Spandau Ballet started well, their slick, slightly angular pop-funk adding a certain something to early Eighties new romantic frippery. Later, especially with the success of global schmaltz-smash “True”, they lost what teeth they had, drifting into cod-soul blandness. Kemp’s career since has focused as much on acting as music, but his recent round of gigs playing Syd Barrett to drummer Nick Mason’s early Pink Floyd tribute band, Saucerful of Secrets, was both unexpected and well-received. It was this that made me intrigued to hear Insolo. I wish it hadn’t. It’s one of the worst albums I’ve ever heard, showcasing Kemp as the most awful M.O.R indulgent.
There’s a place where post-Eighties prog rock skitters into West Coast FM radio smoothness, yacht rock, and tepid jazziness. Insolo inhabits this territory and then some, filled with a cast of session men connected with that world. Think Asia fronted by Bryan Adams, produced by Kenny G. Kemp is revealed as a slick light entertainer with pretensions to art, revelling in clinical over-production.
It’s Kemp’s second solo album - his first was 26 years ago - and thematically it casts an eye backwards, mixing nostalgia with clunkily expounded existential narratives. Try this from “I Remember You”: “You cry all night because the day is so long/Though your tears have never left you strong”. Or how about this, from the same song: “You felt the tightness in your skin/Your eye was sharper than a pin/And every battle you would win.” These is much more in a similar vein.
But lyrical awkwardness is easy to forgive if the music charms or persuades. Instead, Insolo’s sound is relentlessly tame, a watery fuss of complacency, peppered with horrible guitar and sax solos that recall bands such as Chicago and REO Speedwagon at their worst, while uplift is attempted by pleading multitracked choruses. It’s polite music with pretensions. If it were a person, it would be an estate agent with a closely shaved beard and a horrible expensive suit, whose main interest is money, but who spends his evenings sipping G&Ts and feeling he’s deep, literate and sorrowful. But enough. Just avoid.
Below: Watch the video for "Too Much" by Gary Kemp
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