Shoes combines everything I love about music. It’s all very well for perky pop princesses and production line indie kids with complicated hair to pose and preen, throw around instantly forgettable day-glo tunes and play the commercial game, but I think that they are missing a trick, missing the whole point of making music. Music has its finest moments when it is being dark and sexy, has something to say and someone to seduce, when it shines a light on the seedier and more complicated things in life and Shoes does all that and more.
A slinky, jazz-infused, bluesy-Americana sound beats at the core, violins deliver some ethereal, almost classical lines, pianos shimmer and chime and a saxophone, scientifically proven to be the most sexy, sassy and sultry instrument ever envisaged, oozes through the gaps. And if that wasn’t enough there is real lyrical depth here, flitting across scenes and scenarios, posing questions, seeking salvation, freely mixing the profane and the profound in the same sort of way that Tom Waits or Leonard Cohen would paint literary pictures. Only less weird that the former and less up tight than the latter.
It covers a lot of ground that’s for sure, 4 minutes of this and you will feel like you have lived, loved, longed for and lost enough for a life time.