<< Back 5/8/02 Zero 7 — electronica never sounded so alive By Hunter Pope Psst ... over here. I can’t be too loud or my partner will hear me. She’s busy looking for her Zero 7 CD, which I have deftly snatched. I can’t help it. You know the old adage, “the grass is always greener”? Well, the rest of my CD collection looks like the soundtrack to Romper Room compared to this disc ... which I pretend to call mine. It’s so lush and full of sounds that trickle through my head like soft rain congregating on a tin roof. The title, “Simple Things,” is perfect. It is a soundtrack for life. The intermingling of jazz, orchestra, hip-hop, and trance create mental images of everything right with the world. More than anything it reminds me of the ocean — sounds ripple into waves, and the mellow horns (which pop up throughout the album) are reminiscent of dolphin transmitters. So, you can see why I must have this album for my own. Is it bad that I have taken her most prized birthday present? When I first heard “Simple Things,” I had images of a superpower R&B funk group; kind of like a regal Parliament Funkadelic. I was more than a little flabbergasted when I found out that Zero 7 are two white lads, Henry Binns and Sam Hardakar, who grew up together in North London (and they still live within earshot of each other). Essentially, Binns and Hardakar are a production and remix duo (think Quincy Jones or Lee Scratch Perry). “Simple Things” is almost like a professional version of radio compilation tapes that most of us made growing up. “Sam (Hardakar) used to make amazing compilation tapes, as we all did when we were young,” Binns said in a past interview. “I think that maybe our album is trying to be like that.” The duo first became besotted by electronic and hip-hop music when they went to a Run-DMC concert in the late 80’s. They were bowled over by the sounds they described as “from another planet.” Binns and Hardakar left college to begin apprenticeships at ‘60s pop producer Mickie Most’s RAK studios, where they learned to engineer everyone from the Pet Shop Boys to Robert Plant. For five years they tinkered on other people’s music, summoning inspiration from super-producers like Quincy Jones and ‘60s jazz/soul arranger Charles Stepney, as well as modern influences like DJ Shadow and the French band, Air. They got their first real break when college mate and Radiohead producer Nigel Godrich asked the duo to remix Radiohead’s “Climbing Up the Walls.” (from the 1997 album, “OK Computer”). Radiohead loved the remix, and Zero 7 was born shortly thereafter. The duo began doing their own remixes, and the demand for the two-man electronica band began to thrive like unbridled kudzu. “Simple Things” was released in England in May 2001, and the sensation was almost instantaneous. It went double platinum and last year was nominated for Britain’s highly prestigious Mercury Prize (which one critic called, “a U.K. Grammy that honors music for quality rather than commerce”). Now the lounge storm has hit the U.S. and the fanfare is beginning to ascend much like it did overseas. The duo travels with a full band that includes two vocalists, an ever-expanding keyboard armada and a library of taped samples. The population in the traveling band sometimes reaches 20, but there seems to be no worry of paltry paychecks. Some of their shows have sold out up to four weeks in advance, and the duo has cited that their live shows have been more successful than their rapidly selling debut album. What makes the album so gorgeous is the addition of three platinum-throated singers—Australian singer Sia Furler, Sophie Barker, and male vocalist Mozez (who has been compared to everybody from Isaac Hayes to Richie Havens). Mozez has one of those deeeeep voices that sound like a geyser lifting from a bottomless chasm. Mozez’s soul is inescapable and his larynx is a perfect compliment to Zero 7’s “chill out” aspect. Barker and Furler have aching R&B vocals that recall the Motown mamas of yore. There’s a sacred desperation in their voices that will make any mortal curl their toes in elation. Even more impressive is that Binns and Hardakar wrote most of the lyrics for the singers, while still claiming to be “just producesr.” Mozez gets everything going with the opening track, “I Have Seen.” Eloquent and soulful, Mozez’s voice interweaves amongst the fathomless bass lines, intricate keyboards and subtle violins. There’s a dark pull to the song, and it reminds me of disco ball trapped in a storm cloud. Mozez gets you hyped up for more and he is the harbinger for beautiful things to come. Next up (in between instrumentals) are the mighty divas, Barker and Furler, who trade voices on the radio (and goose bump) friendly, “Destiny.” Yes, it’s destined for huge commercial airplay, but it’s one of those songs that everybody will have an affinity for. It’s gorgeous and drenching at the same time. The gals croon, pout, and wail on this number, and the mellow intensity will make even the lamest pulse throb to life. Furler also brings “Distractions” to life with a range of emotional croonings. Sad in its landscape, Furler discusses the darkness of love as gentle guitars and intruding violins purvey her gloom. This is followed by the equally emotional, “Waiting Lin.” Furler and Barker go back and forth, discussing the selfish intentions of the world. Gloomy, yes, but it’s glossed over by sounds that reproduce mental rainbows (kind of like the Steely Dan mentality — harsh lyrics complimented by soulful elevator music). “Simple Things” also has a global feel that should attract folks of various musical palates. Pay special heed to “Likufanele,” a lounge act number (like most of the cuts) complete with African chants. What also juts out on the album are the lounge chair instrumentals that adorn “Simple Things” like a tasty leisure suit. The electronica sounds on the instrumentals are equal hip-hop, jazz, and orchestra. This goes back to the duo’s love for separate (but compromising) genres. Binns is a jazz and soul lover, while Hardakar likes to delve into the endless catalogs of hip-hop. You can hear it every instrumental. Neither one dominates the other. It’s as if they’re going back and forth, conversing about music they love. Standouts include the bass spiraling, “Polaris,” the ever-ascending “Give it Away,” and the watery feel of “Salt Water Sound” (a bonus track made exclusively for the U.S.). Each instrumental is chock full of explorations, and somehow the duo manages to make a lot of different complex sounds congregate into a simple unified resonance. Thus, the title, “Simple Things”. Perhaps I should give the CD back to my partner. She seems to enjoy it as much as myself, although she proclaims that, “I can never find the damn thing.” I, of course, act stupid, claiming to not know where the CD is, as its verdant sounds volley in my brain. Yes, I will find a way, one of these days, to sneak it back into her disc holder ... probably somewhere on the distant horizon when I tire of such “Simple Things.” (Hunter Pope writes about music and movies for The Smoky Mountain News. He can be reached at w.h.pope@worldnet.att.net)