480: The Love We Make

Emancipation (1996)
A sleeper cell of existential skullfuckery. Hidden towards the end of the third disc on Emancipation, this rock ballad is easily overlooked and at first acquaintance you can feel it weakly dancing up and down graphic equalisers of Ford Mondeos across the country. Wearing the skin of Chris Rea and taking vague lyrical inspiration from Abbey Road closer The End, it invites dismissal as being baby boomer AOR. But on the seventh listen the high fidelity varnish cracks and numb horror leaks out. The tide of the lyrics tug you towards a single blinding light, as the beat echoes across the primal void and guitar rains down like heavenly fire. Written for the brother of Wendy (and tambourine player on Around the World in a Day) Jonathan Melvoin after he died of a heroin overdose, the more you listen to The Love we Make the more it morphs from bland sermonising, through painful poignancy, into the eventual heat death of the universe sandwiched between the album’s upbeat title track and Joan bloody Osbourne. Beware ye – if you gaze long into album orientated rock, album orientated rock also gazes into you.