3 Extraordinary New Albums to Listen To

I’m reminded of the anecdote about Spanish film director Pedro Almodóvar during the shooting of his first movie in 1980, right in the middle of the Movida Madrileña boom. The film was called Pepi, Luci, Bom y otras chicas del montón, and past the halfway point of filming, the director ran out of budget. But Almodóvar, influenced by the philosophy of French New Wave filmmaker Jean Luc Godard and his famous idea that “anything goes to tell a story,” made a radical decision. He simply stood in front of the camera and told the ending himself. It was such a creative, innovative, and profoundly disruptive narrative tool that it became the perfect solution for finishing his film, though in the end, he managed to complete it.

That same spark of ingenuity in the face of adversity resurfaced with a recent idea from John Carpenter, the legendary horror filmmaker behind masterpieces like Halloween and Escape from New York. Carpenter, who has also directed gems such as The Thing, came up with a fascinating concept for a film he would call Cathedral, named after the English doom metal band of former Napalm Death member Lee Dorrian. The plot was set in an abandoned church with an elevator that descended straight into hell itself. But when he ran the numbers, Carpenter realized the project was unviable, the costs skyrocketed and no one would want to invest in the movie. Remembering Almodóvar’s anecdote, however, he didn’t give up. He decided not to make the film, but shared the story with his wife, Sandy King, a talented director and producer who runs a comics publishing house. He asked her to turn his idea into a graphic novel, and so, without the financial burden of a feature film, the story of Cathedral came to life on paper.

But Carpenter didn’t stop there. Passionate about the minimalist soundtracks he composes for his films, he decided to create one for the graphic novel. The recording became a family project. He was joined by his son, Cody Carpenter, a multi instrumentalist obsessed with keyboards and capable of creating mind blowing atmospheres. He also brought in his godson, guitarist Daniel Davies, son of Dave Davies, the legendary guitarist of The Kinks. Dave, let’s remember, is one of the true inventors of the heavy metal riff, just listen to You Really Got Me, a track that Van Halen’s cover turned into an absolute anthem. With his son and his godson, Carpenter forged an album titled Cathedral, a work that vibrates with the influence of Mike Oldfield and his Tubular Bells, as well as Goblin, the creators of the soundtracks for Dario Argento’s films. It’s a masterful fusion of classic horror cinema with the power of Daniel Davies’s fierce guitar, and everything points to Cathedral possibly being considered John Carpenter’s first heavy metal album.

Speaking of family albums, Mystic Liverpool, the new work by Jah Wobble, the legendary English bassist, has just been released. As a young man, Wobble was part of a circle of friends known as “the four Johns,” along with John Lydon (who would later become Johnny Rotten of the Sex Pistols), John Wardle (who would become Jah Wobble himself), and John Simon Ritchie (who would become Sid Vicious, the second bassist of the Sex Pistols); the other “John,” John Grey, never went into music. While Sid could barely play the bass but “farmed aura” like no one else, Wobble developed a unique artistic sensibility. His obsession with reggae and dub led him to become one of the iconic musicians of English post punk alongside Lydon in Public Image Ltd. He collaborated with Brian Eno, Massive Attack, Sinéad O’Connor, and even musicians from Can, one of my favorite bands. His solo discography explores dub, ambient music, electronics, and world music.

Wobble surprisingly confesses that his favorite song, the one that changed his life and opened the doors to the music he loves, is “Strawberry Fields Forever” by The Beatles, a track that, according to legend, mentally broke Brian Wilson in the mid sixties when he was trying to surpass the Beatles and, upon hearing it in his car, felt he could no longer win the battle against them. Now, on this new album, Wobble surrounds himself with his family: his wife, director of the Chinese orchestra in London, and his two sons, John and Charlie, who play drums and violin. Together they perform versions of Strawberry Fields Forever, Norwegian Wood, and Tomorrow Never Knows. It’s another family album, an intimate and experimental tribute to the psychedelic and more experimental era of the Beatles, which reminds me of collaborations like those of Yoko Ono, Sean Lennon, or Les Claypool of Primus. Wobble, with his sons, achieves an amazing and moving album.

And if we’re talking about English experimentation, I can’t fail to mention Shane Embury, the bassist of Napalm Death, and his first solo album. I was expecting a grindcore record from him, but Embury has pulled Bridge to Resolution out of his sleeve, an electronic music work that left me open mouthed. Nothing like the music we know him for; rather, it approaches the synth pop sound of the eighties, with influences from the post punk of Killing Joke, and an ethereal, experimental atmosphere that recalls Norwegian bands that moved from black metal to synth pop, such as Ulver. It’s a fascinating album, even if it sometimes becomes a bit monotonous, but it’s a risk I applaud. That a musician who must be around sixty years old, with a career as fierce as Napalm Death’s, decides to dive into exploring the electronic music he was passionate about as a young man, demonstrates a courage and authenticity that inspires.

That’s why I say: well done to Shane Embury and his

Bridge to Resolution. Well done to John Carpenter and his first heavy metal album. Well done to Jah Wobble and his very fine tribute to the Beatles. All of them, whether from necessity or pure creative desire, have known how to reinvent themselves, take the risk, and remind us that risk is the only path to surprising us and connecting with us in a deeper way.