Joe Jackson
Hope and Fury
earMusic
When the second single “Fabulous People” was released in advance of the full album, I was a little nervous about what was to come on April 10. I wasn’t crazy about it. As a long-time Joe Jackson fan, I wondered if the forthcoming record would live up to the promise of being “Bicoastal LatinJazzFunkRock.” What I heard was certainly a timeless narrative, but musically, I was underwhelmed. “Welcome to Burning-by-Sea” was a much better intro to Hope and Fury, and I’m glad it kicks off the album.
Fortunately, the full release gave me solid reason to listen in segments over a few weeks, absorbing each of the nine tracks on their own merit, as well as the big picture. Jackson has been pegged as an artist who constantly changes his style, but it’s an authentic shift, not a marketing ploy. He insists that most of his albums are part of “his own mainstream,” although I’ve enjoyed his side trips into jazz influences and love letters to life in New York, My father’s repeat plays of “Jumpin’ Jive” on our family eight-track machine in the late 1970s pleasantly surprised my sister and me. Joe Jackson struck a good nerve in a listener who favored Eddy Arnold, George Jones, and choral classics. That’s a tall order.
Peppered heavily with Latin percussion, theatric vocal delivery, and all the unapologetic writing that Jackson is known to dish out, the shine on Hope and Fury is the sophisticated pop-adjacent sound that isn’t trying too hard to spit out another hit like “Is She Really Going Out With Him” or “Sunday Papers,” although having the magic production wand of Pat Dillett (They Might Be Giants, David Byrne, Soul Coughing) doesn’t hurt.
“The Face” is my pick for alternative radio rotation, with a strong keyboard break, shifting tempos, and the signature guitar work of Teddy Kumpel. It brings back memories of the skinny tie decade, when Look Sharp was our mainstream. It’s a new sound, but with all the layers that separate Jackson from the safety dance that is current pop music.
Kumpel’s vocals add perfect depth to “After All This Time,” a vulnerable narrative that pares down the theatrics in favor of simple percussion and lyrics that look inward.
“See You in September” wraps up the album with a sweet memoir-flavored tone, embracing aging, lamenting the year gone by, and anticipating small pleasures. Jackson’s voice still resonates with the curiosity of youth but the wisdom only years can bring as he sings.
So I’m slumming on the seashore / And switching off my phone / Watching children building castles in the sand / And grownups skipping stones / It’s a job that someone must do.
Don’t toss the skinny ties just yet. If Hope and Fury is simply Jackson’s direction du jour or the beginning of a lengthy experimentation in sound, I’m here for it.
