Is Robbie Williams' new album, his eighth solo effort, entitled Intensive Care because of all the attention that has been lavished on it? Or does it reflect the critical condition of his career? Medical attention is certainly merited as this album is positively schizophrenic.
The first single from the album, the off-centre ‘Tripping’, is a perfect sampler for the album as is it is both experimental and yet predictably familiar Robbie territory. It borrows heavily from more established artists, yet it has several trademark cheeky-chappie Robbie raps; it tries to fuse the eclectic and diverse, yet attempts to reassure you that nothing’s changed. Ultimately, the whole she-bang is rather unconvincing and confusing.
Having worked so successfully with songwriting maestro Guy Chambers for so many years, the pressure is on for his new partnership with Stephen Duffy to come up with the goods.
The album walks a fine line between developing Robbie as an artist, but doesn’t relinquish the elements that made him a success in the first place. The tension between old and new runs through Intensive Care like the writing in a stick of corporate rock.
The opening track, ‘Ghosts’, is a sweeping, elegant ballad brimming with classic Duffy melodic romanticism. The prominence of the swooning string section is indicative of a more mature, less poppy direction as all the gimmicky diversions are gone - there are no ‘Jesus in a Camper Van’s’ here! - and musically speaking it is an impressive beginning to this new era.
Lyrically however we are on very familiar ground. Robbie still focuses on his usual subjects: himself, his superstar status, his ‘problems’, his self-doubt and his insincerity.
Musing on his hedonistic drives in ‘Make Me Pure’, Robbie sings of an evangelic impulse to clean up his act (backed by a gospel choir no less, for full faux-religiosity) before the twist of the get-out clause “…but not yet”.
The narcissistic self-absorption reaches a peak with ‘The Trouble With Me’, which strangely doesn’t touch on his unhealthy naval-gazing.
Whilst ‘Spread Your Wings’ has a winning, memorable chorus, it does have Robbie giving a strange Ray Davies / Lola style talk sing through reminiscences over a teenage sweetheart. There is gentleness in this song that also appears on the later track, ‘Please Don’t Die’. The need for someone “to love me and hold me” challenges Robbie into tender, more fragile vocals. Despite borrowing the baseline from the verses of Abba’s ‘Knowing Me Knowing You’ and the 70s disco strings, neither of these tracks will lend themselves easily to Williams’ bombastic stadium strutting.
Where the Williams / Duffy partnership has tried to cater for the showman side of Robbie’s crowd-pleasing entertainment, it comes across as derivative.
‘A Place To Crash’ is a strutting pub anthem wanting to be Elton’s ‘Saturday Night’s All Right For Fighting’ or a Rolling Stones rocker, whereas ‘Random Acts of Kindness’ merely parodies Williams’ own back catalogue with a dull guitar plodder. For all his swagger and bravado live, Robbie will never make these songs work as well as ‘Let Me Entertain You’ or even ‘Rock DJ’.
The biggest tease of the album is the misleadingly-titled, ‘Your Gay Friend’. Not a coming-out song, but one in which Robbie masquerades as a gay man (can you imagine!) in order to remain safely close to an ex who is now married. It might be faintly offensive if the tune weren’t so lame.
The greatest success is where Robbie’s ability to sell a big ballad is fused with the beauty and sensitivity of Duffy’s songwriting melodies. ‘Advertising Space’ may not be the only Elvis-related song currently on the block, but thanks to a great chorus and well-nuanced singing, this will be a new favourite in the Robbie canon of songs.
‘King of Bloke and Bird’, the album’s final track, may be another confessional song, but the wistful and sorrow filled arrangement and the instrumental outro lasting, over two minutes, takes this into a whole different class.
Intensive Care is a corporate compromise that teams up Robbie with a critically lauded but commercially unsuccessful writing partner. They go in several experimental directions without ever leaving the comfort zone of the past success.
Despite assembling a collection of fine songs, the album struggles between satisfying the stadium audiences and producing an album people might actually want to listen to at home.
It’s a worthy effort, but the patient certainly isn’t out of critical condition yet.
Originally published 24 October 2005
Well, at least I spotted the most commercial song which became the next single - 'Advertising Space' - and also I seemed to have got it right in that the public didn't exactly hug this one to their bosom.
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