Artist: Duran Duran
Label: Sony BMG
Release: 2004
Rating: 3.5/5
Of course Duran Duran don’t need any special advertising! The band is a plucky little ship of survivors that sailed through the eighties with great success on its own recognizable formula of the hugely popular wave of the time called New Romantic. What followed was a literal stylistic chasm between the Duran Duran of the 21st century and what they did in the eighties. “Astronaut” is only now kind of bridging that gap. With the exception of a few gems, of course, like Come Undone and Ordinary World from “The Wedding Album” (1995). The album is interesting because it also marks the reunion of the golden lineup, which in the eighties, just by showing up on the scene, caused a real “beatlemania” after “beatlemania”.
The great news is that “Astronaut” really is the opposite of the electro pop “fluff” Duran Duran were penning over the past decade. The very first track, (Reach Out For The) Sunrise, confirms it beyond doubt. A few seconds of opening beat that recall something like New Moon On Monday, then a jump into a light pop banger, tailor-made for some eighties disco club. The guitar is nicely tucked in the background, the keyboards prominent with signature “space” melodies. Finally something solid since View To A Kill! They go for an especially refined and sophisticated approach in the melancholic closer Still Breathing, where an orchestra joins the gently whispering melody, and where they added a breath of “Bowie-esque” dissonance to underline the drama of the song. Then there’s your typical electro funky disco number, the song Astronaut, which follows in style the previous record, “Pop Trash”. It makes for an excellent contrast with the mellow but groovy Bedroom Toys that follows, with guitar played in the style of their older stuff, a la Skin Trade. Duran Duran haven’t forgotten how to write songs with dreamy choruses. They remind us of that in the excellent, more rock-leaning What Happens Tommorow, or in the “lighter”, gorgeously sophisticated Point Of No Return and Finest Hour, where the guys can still get under your skin so convincingly. Expressive choruses are their strongest weapon for winning over the listener anyway, and this time is no different. Throughout the whole record we get to enjoy the emblematic combination of keyboards, guitars and LeBon’s voice, and still, every song has its own special charm, which makes “Astronaut” a very varied record. Happy news for all the “eighties” nostalgics is also that in Point Of No Return the spacey keyboards pull toward their famous Rio, even though the track is cut from a totally different cloth, while Nice pulls, especially along the guitar lines, toward the record “Seven And The Ragged Tiger”. Since the record is tuned to Duran Duran’s eighties legacy, it’s an extra treat to hear John Taylor’s melodic bass line separated out in the production, especially in the “funkified” Taste The Summer.
The production is crystal clear, with the instruments in balance and a pronounced contrast between the beat, the front line and LeBon’s recognizable vocal in the center. This is an album that, despite its title, doesn’t explore new horizons, but instead effectively draws inspiration from their eighties legacy. Duran Duran played their hand very smartly, and “Astronaut” is a cunningly sly album when it comes to caution. It’s an album of reaffirmation that came with the reunion. Of course, there’s no talk here of an eighties revival. Duran Duran played it safe and delivered a secure, modern-sounding, light rock pop album that’s relaxingly fresh and extremely sexy. Something some of us have definitely been waiting for for a very, very long time.
Lineup
Simon LeBon – vocals
Andy Taylor – guitar
Nick Rhodes – keyboards
John Taylor – bass guitar
Roger Taylor – drums
Production
Don Gilmore, Dallas Austin & Nile Rogers
Tracklist
1. (Reach Up For The) Sunrise
2. Want You More!
3. What Happens Tomorrow
4. Astronaut
5. Bedroom Toys
6. Nice
7. Taste The Summer
8. Finest Hour
9. Chains
10. One Of Those Days
11. Point Of No Return
12. Still Breathing
