Recorded in a "cathartic fit of despair" at home on a four-track over the winter of 2000/ 2001, VINNY PECULIAR'S second album "Non-Compliance" is something of a departure and certainly a rugged route march away from the sardonically catchy guitar pop he's moulded into his own image over the past few years.
Alone, intimate and almost voyeuristically personal, the 14 songs here are stark exercises in minimalism, delivered by Vinny in monologue style, with usually only the sparest of keyboard frills for company. Aside from a little textural work on "God Spot", no guitars are detectable at all and the early hours confessional style recalls the maverick likes of John Cale, Julian Cope and Baby Bird's Steven Jones.
And, it must be said, it's wholly introverted stuff. Indeed, if you're expecting the guitar hooks and pithy wordplay you'd usually associate with one of Vinny's records then my advice is to close the door quietly and slip out now. However, if you're drawn to darker nights of the soul, you should definitely stick around, for then there's plenty to relate to.
Opener "Billy Fisher" gives you some idea of the record's looming presence. Built around a nighmare-ish ambient drone, it's the down side of the cheery Billy Liar-style persona of someone who's based their life around deception and is a strange, obsessive reminiscence. "I have created so many lies to justify my weakness" mutters Vinny as the hairs begin to stand to attention on your neck.
"War All The Time"s up next and it's about as close to pop - albeit in a diseased, numbed-out form - as "Non-Compliance" gets, with low-key beats entering the equation. Actually, it recalls the kind of atmospheric setting Martin Hannett used to create for John Cooper Clarke and finds Vinny picking at the scabs of domestic disharmony. "The Christmas crackers are exploding in your face, but you were never here and I was never there in the first place", he relates with both sadness and a tangible air of bitterness.
Domestic unhappiness also creeps into tracks like "Evil Nature" and "Payback Time". The former is very reminiscent of Baby Bird's home recorded albums and finds Vinny suggesting "we buried each other deep in resentment", while "Payback Time" is an ultra-fatalistic mantra which ends in a swirl of electronic locusts and is truly dislocated. Indeed, even when Vinny brightens the corners musically (like on "Uncomfortable" which has a tinge of Xmas and what I think could be a celeste) it's usually in alliance with half-whispered, regret-fuelled musings. The end results are often unsettling, but wholly captivating all at once.
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Typically, religion gets a look in on "God Spot" and the kooked-out "Baby Jehovah", where Vinny indulges in a Dylan/ Kerouac-esque stream of consciousness ("Word salad crumbles in vacuum-cleaner cash cow"), while "The Last Day Of Cool" is not a million miles away from the semi-autobiographical set-pieces of the recent VP album "Growing Up With...." Indeed, with its' school-bound scenario ("On the last day of school I set fire to the volleyball nets with a borrowed cigarette lighter"), it's almost the flipside of that album's "We Tried To Drown Our Music Teacher In 1974" and could also be viewed as a blueprint for "Growing Up"s similarly prank-filled "Egg Incident."
So it's undeniable "Non-Compliance" requires a leap of faith if you're expecting a further bout of Vinny Peculiar's bittersweet songs about love, life and loathing. However, the album's superficial miserablism can't destroy the insight and inspiration that's become the hallmark of all Vinny's releases and thus "Non-Compliance" is another worthy addition to a fascinating canon of work.
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