Published on Feb 3, 2000
“Ladies and gentlemen, we are Morphine, at your service.”
Mark Sandman, lead singer of Morphine, used to open many an
electrifying show by uttering that simple sentence. And that
philosophy also applied to their albums. Yes, Morphine was a band
that was willing to take risks, but for the most part, you were
more than willing to go along for the ride because the rhythm
section would always provide an instantly appealing, driving
beat.
Get ready for a left turn.
The Night marks the first Morphine studio album where the
listener is going to be tested. With the exception of a couple of
songs, there are no rhythms that instantly grab you. Instead, they
are there, but buried in a forest of violas, interesting percussion
arrangements a tri-tar and horse-hair piano.
With
The Night, Morphine opens up the recording studio to more
guests than the latest Santana album. Former Morphine drummer
Jerome Deupree plays on most of the tracks, but still doesn’t
overshadow Dilly Conway’s drum work. Sometimes, the arrangements
get too cluttered, but the willingness to take their band’s music
to the next level more than forgives Sandman’s ambitious reach.
Of course, it’s next to impossible to think of
The Night as Sandman’s last realized musical statement. And
songs like “I’m Yours, You’re Mine” and “A Good Woman Is Hard To
Find” show Morphine more in the experimental arena of their
B-Sides And Otherwise compilation album than
Yes or
Cure For Pain. Sandman’s husky, dark baritone voice moves in
close for a whisper on “Rope On Fire” but then seems like its
filtered through a noise box in “So Many Ways.”
You want the accessible Morphine? It’s here. “Souvenir,” “Top
Floor, Bottom Buzzer” and the beautiful “Rope On Fire” pull
Morphine back to their lethal triple threat of baritone sax, bass
and drums. But for the other eight tracks, expect to do some
combing for a catchy riff.
If you liked Morphine more for their free-flowing prose, than
The Night may turn out to be your favorite album from the
group. Imagery decoractes the album with lines like, “The sky is
filled with question marks, will the chains come apart,” and the
“french fries with pepper” number/word play of “Slow Numbers.” One
thing
The Night confirms in its first listen: no matter where
Sandman wanted the group to go, poetry wouldn’t be far behind.
Dana Colley, a saxophonist so bad-ass that he usually plays two
at a time onstage, surfaces throughout parts of
The Night, but for a good amount of time, he is almost
buried by the percussion. Still, “So Many Ways” automatically ranks
up near his “best five” saxophone solos on any Morphine album. He
is definitely there throughout the album, but it’s his most
restrained effort to date.
Fans disappointed with
The Night will have to wait next year for the next Morphine
release: a live album. Other, more willing fans are in for a
challenge.
The Night is a rewarding listen, but unlike their
masterworks,
Yes and
Cure For Pain, the result isn’t instantly addicting. Throw
The Night in a five-disc changer with the rest of Morphine’s
colleciton and you can see the evolution. Sandman wanted to stretch
the band’s capabilities for
The Night. While his loss still leaves a great void,
The Night gives a fitting coda to an artist who was able to
balance the need to entertain his devout audience while not
pandering to them.