Studio Masterpiece

Not to Be Played Before 11 P.M.

Few, if any album length recordings can be listened to comfortably at any time of day (or day of the week for that matter). Imagine listening to Back in Black while you poured your 7 AM coffee or throwing on Kind of Blue before a night on the town. Yeah, it would make perfect sense to some people, but for most, the musical content vs. real-life context would be jarring. There are 'morning records', there are 'afternoon records,' and there are 'evening records'. There are also double duty records like Born to Run, which covers the ground from mid-afternoon to roughly midnight (on a weekend) or, say, anything by Timo Maas which shouldn't hit the speakers until at least 2 AM (in a club) but could be used for a drive-time pick-me-up.

Of course, you might be in a late-evening frame of mind (meditative?) when its 3:30 in the afternoon. In this case you should, by all means, throw on a late-evening record. There's no law against it, but your co-workers might worry about you. In this writer's mind, there has been no late-evening record over the last 20 years that has been better conceived or produced than Hats (1989) by The Blue Nile. In fact, I would venture to say that Hats is a studio masterpiece and one that sounds surprisingly fresh sixteen years later.

Essentially a one-man band (Paul Buchanan) complimented by permanent session players (Robert Bell, Paul Joseph Moore), the Blue Nile are not well known outside of Great Britain. It is there, though, that their respectable fan base has come to know them as studio perfectionists. To be a fan you must be very patient, as they have released only four records over the last 20+ years. Each one is a reward from beginning to end, though, as songwriting, solid musicianship, pristine production, and beautifully fractured vocals converge. There is no other band quite like The Blue Nile.

On Hats, the band's second release after Walk Across the Rooftops (1984), Buchanan creates a song cycle that perfectly captures the romance of after hours city life. In a mere seven songs and in under forty minutes, the nighttime urban landscape comes vividly to life. From taxi-cabs and commuter trains to restaurants and cozy bistros where couples share their own private universe, Hats paints a vision of the city that only exists in the halcyon moments of a young romance. Like a winter recollection of a summer afternoon, the world Hats paints is idyllic and nearly unattainable in reality, but perfectly realized on five inches of plastic.

The record opens with a whisper on "Over the Hillside." Slowly, as a processed snare clicks to life, synths and an economic rhythm guitar emerge to the fore. Before a moment passes, Paul Buchanan's voice enters and the first-time listener is most likely taken aback. Buchanan possesses a somehow perfectly imperfect delivery. As he sings, it is difficult to tell if he is even in tune half the time, but this is how Hats achieves such a human quality despite the use of so much studio wizardry.

"Over the Hillside" sets the tone for the record but not the meter. Track two, "The Downtown Lights," skips to midtempo and adds lush instrumentation that builds to fantastic crescendo, as Buchanan professes his adoration for the city. Next comes "Let's Go Out Tonight" which, like no other song I can recall, captures the enchantment of courtship (and life before children).

"Headlights on the Parade" marks the emotional peak of Hats. With a more organic piano melody layered over synths and a pulsing rhythm section, this is the closest thing to a single on the record (I believe it was one in England). This far into Hats, it becomes apparent how Buchanan's voice is mixed perfectly, track after track, within the immaculate production.

After two more beautifully realized tracks, Hats closes with "Saturday Night," which again captures what all us city-folk remember or envision life to be when we look backward or forward. paul's world, unfortunately is never in the present ('right now' just can't live up to the hype). Still, within or outside the context of the song, few lyrics are as honest and in the moment as, "She'll love me all the way... It's Saturday Night."

While the last few paragraphs were spent describing the songs on Hats, I am led back to where I started: expressing how perfectly this recording, as a whole, suits late-evening listening. While decidedly romantic and ideal for when one is in the company ofanother, it is also surprising how well solitude is served by Buchanan's opus to the city and to love. As noted, the world he sings about is difficult to reach, unless you have your headphones on.