Portishead – Third

Waiting for Portishead's third album, aptly entitled THIRD, was a 10 year wait, but it was completely worth it. They push the sonic extremes even more, adding a lo-fi density to "Silence," as Gibbons' voice cuts through the noise. The sad, ghostly "Hunter" has a dark growl waiting in its belly, while the reversed tones of "Nylon Smile" convey an underlying tension. The folksy opening of "The Rip" gives way to a more electronic backing, as Gibbons' swoon and flies with the melody. But the builds and disappearances of "Plastic" show that their paranoiac sound hasn't completely faded, but has instead gained a new form of expression, as evidenced on the tense "We Carry On." But the banjo-based simplicity "Deep Water" shows that they've got plenty of moods and influences up their sleeves, as the rough-hewn "Machine Gun" blasts down the niceties, opening a space for the cello and psychedelia of "Small" to fill. They can even make a hurdy-gurdy sound menacing, as on "Magic Doors," before returning to the melancholy smokiness that first sealed their sound with "Threads." Let's hope it's not another 10 years before we hear from them again...

This is the album Portishead should have made and released in place of Portishead. So many of the tricks that album employed for effect are fortunately gone. But what is in place of the grand sweeps, builds and scratchy backdrops is done with on the surface, half the effort and achieves twice the dread and melancholy that their previous two albums hinted at and deeply wanted to be, but weren't capable of. This is still Portishead with Beth Gibbons AM radio quality lost and found voice. The one that garnered so much praise with Dummy, but with a singularly more confident backdrop and none of the bells and whistles that tagged them and left them in place in time.
This is soundtrack music of the highest order.
Mean, high, lonesome, driving and very psychedelic.