Amazon.co.uk Review
Kirsty MacColl's third album in a disappointingly sporadic solo career is a homage to her infatuation with the music of South America and the Caribbean. The songs are decorated with sounds borrowed from the environments that inspired it: the rattling of marimbas, the yelpings of mariachi trumpets, the twittering of songbirds or, occasionally, what sounds like the squawkings of macaques. None of which is a problem in so far as MacColl's voice would still bestow a certain human warmth on an album of martial marches, but too much of
Tropical Brainstorm nonetheless rings hollow. The problem with this sort of musical tourism is that the performer often concentrates too much on getting the details right and not enough imposing their own vision on proceedings. Here, MacColl has roped in capable musicians, but spends too much time lapsing into Spanishchoruses as if to remind us that she knows her stuff as well. It doesn't help that her own usually sure lyrical touch is somewhat lacking--songs that sneer at online onanists ("Here Comes That Man Again") and conspicuous consumers ("Designer Life") are not the sign of an imagination firing on all cylinders. Towards the end of the album, the unfussy, plaintive and ruthlessly direct he-done-me-wrong song "Wrong Again" is a suggestion of what might have been; tellingly, it's the least Cuban-sounding song on the record.
--Andrew Mueller