Album reviews: Fiona Shepherd on new releases from Dexys, Georgia and Brenda

Dexys: The Feminine Divine (100% Records) ***

Georgia: Euphoric (Domino) ***

Brenda: Brenda (Last Night From Glasgow) ****

Kevin Rowland is a bold and contrary stylist, an artist following his own nose, often in the opposite direction to prevailing cultural winds. Sometime it works out, sometimes it doesn’t, but there’s no doubt he wouldn’t want it any other way. This is partly why any new Dexys album is an event – plus their relative rarity serves to stoke anticipation.

The Feminine Divine is only the fifth Dexys album of original material in more than 40 years and the first in over a decade. On this occasion, Rowland is joined by long-serving trombonist Big Jim Paterson as well as relative new boys Sean Read and Michael Timothy, but the vision is all Rowland’s as he confronts toxic or at least entitled masculinity, rather over-compensating with his deification of women – the album sleeve is a depiction of the Hawaiian goddess of fire.

Rowland is still soul-searching, with the emphasis on soul. The Feminine Divine guides you on his journey of worship, starting with a song written over 30 years ago. The One That Loves You embodies Rowland’s former ideas of the masculine protector in breezy, brass-soaked R&B style but quickly turns that on its head with an update on another older Dexys tune Manhood. “This is what I really think,” he declares at the outset of It’s Alright Kevin (Manhood 2023). A pubby rhythm’n’blues stomp gives way to a cheery Seventies bubblegum pop conversation between Rowland and his reassuring backing vocalists.

I’m Going To Get Free continues the dynamic between the resolute Rowland and his backing sirens, as he portrays a character emerging from mental health struggles, accompanied by a jolly Hammond organ break and a coda of bright, frothy strings.

“Times have changed and I’ve changed too” he drawls, as he lays out his new femme-centred philosophy on the stealthy pop crawl of the title track. Of course, it’s all about him as he outlines a Damascene conversion in his late Sixties. “I’m sorry,” he offers. “You should be” comes the retort from Maddy Read Clarke.

It’s little witty moments like this which mitigate the more ridiculous elements of the enterprise. In the second half of the album, Rowland tips over into outright adoration of a dominatrix force on My Goddess Is, while guest vocalist Kamaria Castang lays down the law on the steamy funk of Goddess Rules.

“I will worship and adore,” he coos on My Submission, pledging devotion up in the tenor end of his range over soft, dreamy piano and swooning strings, with a twist of David Lynch surreality to the delivery.

And what do the women say in response? Georgia is off in her own ecstatic world on Euphoric, trilling in clear soprano tones over bouncy arpeggiated basslines and housey keyboards on Some Things You’ll Never Know. Mountain Song mixes girlish pop vocals, a darker synth backdrop and twanging guitar in a Chvrches cocktail, while melodic New Order-like guitars, a skittering beat and peppy vocals are blended into stirring dance pop track The Dream. The softer, quieter So What sounds a more ambivalent note: “so what if it hurts, I’ll still do it again”.

Glasgow indie punk trio Brenda, featuring two members of the short-lived but hugely entertaining Wet Look, import that playfulness into their self-titled debut album, though they would say anger is their energy. At the very least, they are poking fun at their targets.

They shoot from the hip on Cease and Desist, emanating Go-Go’s girl group attitude and deliver a basilisk stare of a vocal on High Horse over squelchy synth lines. Microscopic Babe is a plaintive gem of a track about an unfulfilling relationship, with hypnotic interplay between melody and harmony, while Shield is another fine example of how they build atmosphere with bare instrumentation and their haunting harmonising.

CLASSICAL

Janáček & Haas: String Quartets (BIS) ****

Here’s a wild and tempestuous delight, though you’ll have to wait for the very final track in this Leoš Janáček/Pavel Haas string quartet coupling to witness the riotous combination of the American Escher Quartet and Scots percussionist Colin Currie letting rip in the finale of Haas’ second quartet, subtitled “From the Monkey Mountains”. Haas – who died in Auschwitz – was a pupil of Janáček, and the influence is palpable, austere folkish modalities sculpted in gritty, at times whimsical terms. The four movements are punchily performed, their jazzy insinuations cushioning the blow, and in the final movement, called Wild Nights, Currie’s agile dexterity, and the subtleties of his frivolous virtuosity, are simply the icing on the cake. There’s a steamy pungency from the Escher players that is equally excitable in the two Janáček quartets, the so-called “Kreuzer Sonata” and “Intimate Letters”. Glowing tenderness vies with searing fractiousness. Ken Walton

JAZZ

Elina Duni: A Time to Remember (ECM) ****

Swiss-Albanian singer Elina Duni re-joins the quartet of her last, acclaimed release, Lost Ships, for another gorgeous blending of vocal and instrumental timbres. Duni imparts emotional impact while maintaining a wonderfully floating delicacy, couched in keenly sensitive accompaniments from guitarist Rob Luft, flugelhorn player Matthieu Michel and Fred Thomas on piano and drums. This is a beguiling mix of new compositions, traditional Balkan material and standards. Duni’s singing in the title track reminds me of Sandy Denny in its clear, pensive drift, band shimmering behind, and undulates lissomly in two Albanian songs. The wordless vocalising of Dawn soars over rippling guitar and tidal cymbals, while articulation of the lovely Haden-Lincoln number, First Song, quivers lightly above the accompaniment, with Michel’s flute-like flugelhorn and Luft’s guitar taking on edge for the break. Ubiquitous but always challenging, Send in the Clowns is suffused with gentle, knowing regret. Jim Gilchrist

Album reviews: Dexys | Georgia | Brenda