Das Capital - The Songwriting Genius of Luke Haines

This latest collection, sadly, is unlikely to change this state of affairs with its re-recorded versions of old favourites interspersed with three new songs. There is also a not so secret ‘hidden track’ lurking at the beginning of the CD, comprising an introductory suite of even more old favourites from the Haines back catalogue. The up-dated settings coat the songs in candy-sweet strings (or “luxuriant orchestral delirium”) to provide a contrast to the acid rancour of the lyrics. Musically it wouldn’t be out of place on Radio 2 but lyrically it’s post-watershed (in an indefinably disturbing, rather than sweary Parental Advisory, way): perhaps queasy listening describes it best.

The new songs first, then: ‘Satan Wants Me’ is a lightning history of the various manifestations of the horned one in modern pop culture, from clownish disciples like Aleister Crowley to the Keanu Reeves/Al Pacino cult turkey The Devil’s Advocate. With its galloping strings and catchy chorus, it should be the number one song in hell any day now. ‘The Mitford Sisters’ is a rather well-timed gem, given the recent death of Diana Mitford, about mad horny aristos and their love of fascism (or at least individual fascists). ‘Bugger Bognor’ is a lushly orchestrated fantasia, with an icily beautiful coda, woven around the famous last words of George V.

Of the re-makes, I’m less fond of ‘Junk Shop Clothes’ and ‘Lenny Valentino’ in their new arrangements, but that’s because the originals are so perfectly realised already, but the rest I think are worthwhile re-tailorings. Most successful are surely the tracks that top and tail the CD: ‘How Could I be Wrong’ (from New Wave), now re-tooled with the “greatest sax solo in the history of popular culture” according to Haines’s sleeve notes, and ‘Future Generation’ (from How I Learned to Love The Bootboys), a great song rather let down in its earlier incarnation but now buffed up so that it finally lives up to the boastful claims made in the lyric.

Haines relishes the role of gainsayer and and general all round grumpus (see the recent interview in Word magazine) but I like to see him as a pop George Sanders; cynical, amused, urbane and sophisticated and an upholder of standards that have withered away elsewhere. When I went to a preview screening of ‘From Hell’ last year or so I saw Luke Haines and companion sitting a few rows in front of me. Call me an idiot but I was rather disappointed that, as we all filed out of the screening room, Haines held the door open for me to go through, rather than, as the persona suggested by his recorded output would surely have done, holding it open just long enough for me to get to it and then letting it slam shut so that I would be left standing there, my nose touching the door, listening to the muffled sound of his sneering and malicious laughter echoing away in the distance. This album captures that sound.

'Das Capitol' is composed pricipally of re-worked, or better yet re-discovered, songs from Haines' extensive back-catalogue, but they are far from pale shaddows of their former selves but grandoise, orchestral masterpieces. They are not just a more than welcome excuse to bring the songs to public attention, but actually map the change in culture that has taken place over the past decade, with the fashion tendinng towards bigger and better ideas with smaller accessories.

So this is more than an innovative greatest hits. The orchestra adds a fullness and lush quality to Haines' previous sparcity, and changes the emphasis of his message. This is necessary as Haines' albums all have a self-contained theme: class, fame, terrorism, nostalgia, and the various offings chosen for exhibition have to be melded into a cohesive whole to sit alongside one another comfortably.

The three new songs reveal that, unlike many other bands I grew up admiring, Haines has not lost his touch. This may be because Haines' interests change over time, so his lyrics are never stagnant. Nor are his vocals treated as a mere aspect to the musical mix, there solely from necessity. He has stuff to say, and it is worth hearing. 'The Mitford Sisters' is particulary good - did he know Diana would die so soon after its release? Prophetic.

Of course, as Haines says, this project was also conceived with the design of pointing out to people what is under their noses, and if it does that for even a handful of people, it will have been a worthwhile exercise. Buy this album - Luke Haines is not touted as the best lyricist in Britain for nothing. He is right - he is a genius.