Tropical Brainstorm

I say this not as a reactionary curmudgeon, but as a longtime fan of Kirsty. From the very first time I heard her backing vocals on the Smiths "Ask" and "Golden Lights", to the first time I managed to track down and imbibe every second of her fantabuloustic 1989 LP, "Kite", I've always thought of Kirsty in the same way that I think of Dylan, Elvis (Costello, that is), and Lennon. Pretentious as that might seem, it's an undeniable truth that Kirsty was one of the most gifted songwriters this trite world has ever known. The horrific tragedy that was her death (killed by a speedboat, right in full view of her children) and fact that she will never sing another beautiful note of music is utterly heartbreaking to me.

But I still can't let all these gushy feelings about Kirsty taint my true opinion of "Tropical Brainstorm", which is that it represents her weakest and most musically shallow work since her 1981 LP, "Desperate Character".

Wow, someone hand this man a bulletproof vest! I understand that many "Tropical Brainstorm" devotees will be highly offended, but all I can do is hope that they take an opportunity to lock themselves in a room with "Kite" or "Titanic Days" (or even "Galore") for several weeks, and then see if they come out bearing the same conclusion about this album that I did.

My biggest problem with the album, not surprisingly, is the awkward pastiche of Cuban and Latin influences in many of the songs that everyone else seems to be going absolutely ape$*!# over. Opening the album with "Mambo de la Luna", "In These Shoes?" and "Treachery", back to back, leaves you with the unsettling impression that you are supposed to be taking this seriously as a mature fusion of Latin and Pop. The only problem is, I can't.

It's not that I dislike Latin music--I am actually quite fond of it--it's just that when I hear a native British pop singer like Kirsty trying to perform it, two harrowing words enter my mind: Gloria Estefan. It's Latin-lite for the masses, which is fine, but a superly-duperly talented musician like Kirsty should not be the one doing it. Yes, it was cute when she did it as a novel one-off ("My Affair", from 1991's "Electric Landlady" LP) but when stretched out over the duration of a 55 minute album, it becomes embarassingly superficial and unbearably corny.

This isn't to say, however, that this belongs in the same section of the record store that holds multiple lonely copies of "Van Halen III". Far from it, in fact. It contains enough genuine moments of brilliance to make it worth your coin. When Kirsty uses Latin influences as a springboard to originality (and not just a watered down carbon copy of said "influences"),"Brainstorm" really shines. "England 2, Colombia 0", where Kirsty is at her usual sarcastically bitter lyrical-self, is a perfect example of the good that can come about by assimilation rather than imitation.

The other stunning highlight is the hauntingly ethereal and pathetically emotional "Autumngirlsoup", which is probably the album's best song, and would have fit perfectly on her solemn "Titanic Days" LP. If Kirsty's emotional, audible gasping in between its verses (and especially her plaintive sigh at the very end of the track) doesn't send a reverbrating chill up your spine, then you simply don't deserve the gift of life.

Conversely, the cybersex confessional of "Here Comes that Man Again", is spectacularly awful, and represents some of Kirsty's absolute worst lyrics ever...I've heard better lyrics than that in a Massengil commercial.

I'll grant you (and every other latecomer to the Church of Kirsty) that overall, Brainstorm is indeed a "fun" album. And I am fully aware of Kirsty's newfound obsession with Cuban culture in the years before recording Tropical Brainstorm. I just think it's sad that Kirsty will forever be remembered by the unwashed masses mostly for her "novelty" tracks (i.e., "There's a Guy Works Down the Chip Shop Swears He's Elvis", "They Don't Know", "My Affair" and "Fairytale of New York"), and not for the huge collection of intelligent and sincere songs she has written that can easily match unassailable classics like The miths "The Queen Is Dead" in sheer artistic timelessness.

The way "Tropical Brainstorm" is presented--especially in the choice of "In These Shoes?" as the album's big hit single--does little to change this notion, and further paints Kirsty into the minds of the general public as simply "that British singer who writes those cute, catchy little tunes". And as much as many of us don't want to admit it, "Brainstorm" wouldn't have been nearly the critical success that it enjoys now, had Kirsty not died. A harsh statement? Maybe. But do I really need to pull out the names of Kurt Cobain, Selena, Aaliyah, Jimi Hendrix and Sid Vicious, et. al., in order to prove my point?