Customer Reviews

Blue Bell Knoll

5 star:		(22)
4 star:		(2)
3 star:		(1)
2 star:		(1)
1 star:		(1)

 

 

Music critics have not been kind to this album. I have read this album described as a failure of sorts. It seems the "experts" felt that the Twins were resting on their laurels, after cranking out some of the most introspective and melodic music of the early-to-mid eighties. With song titles like The Itchy Glowblo Blow, Spooning Good Singing Gum, and A Kissed-Out Red Floatboat, perhaps they were also taking themselves a little too seriously. Accusations abound about Blue Bell Knoll being the zenith of prettiness for prettiness' sake, forsaking in the process any depth or gravitas. Yet, many fans describe this as either their favorite CT album, or among their favorites. Who is to be believed?

I have a theory about why Blue Bell Knoll isn't critically praised. The reason has to do with the timing of its release. It succeeded two very important albums, the seminal Treasure, and the highly conceptual Victorialand. Conversely, it was followed by Heaven or Las Vegas, which broke with the past and established the Cocteau Twins' mature sound. Sandwiched between those albums, Blue Bell Knoll doesn't seem to break any ground, thus inviting dismissal, which is a mistake.

If you think about it, Blue Bell Knoll was the end of an era in musicmaking. After their early "post-punk" efforts (the Garlands album and the Lullabies / Peppermint Pig EP's), the Twins found their signature sound. After Blue Bell Knoll, however, they hit middle age soundwise, and were forced (perhaps) to stay relevant in the wake of a changing music scene. Much of the change was achieved by scaling back and lifting a few veils. Then, three albums later, they sounded the death knell, calling it quits.

Blue Bell Knoll is a bit like floating lazily down a river atop an inner tube. The Twins weave a sound tapestry that is uniformly beautiful and ethereal. The only vague bit of melancholy is Spooning Good Singing Gum.

It would have helped if the Cocteau Twins had composed a song of equal strength as Carolyn's Fingers. Just about every other full-lengh album in their canon achieves this effect. Sugar Hiccup is mirrored by My Love Paramour, Ivo by Lorelei, Iceblink Luck by Heaven or Las Vegas, Bluebeard by Evangeline, etc. Don't get me wrong- there is NO filler in Blue Bell Knoll, but Carolyn's Fingers does stand apart from the rest.

For fans of Heaven or Las Vegas, a precursor can be found in A Kissed-Out Red Floatboat, a shimmering, exquisite blend of Elisabeth Fraser's soulful lower range, and angelic upper range, spread across a percolating backdrop.

My personal favorite, aside from the obvious choice of Carolyn's Fingers, is Suckling the Mender. That high note Elisabeth sings midway through is jaw-dropping, a mighty feat for one who isn't classically trained.

Really, the whole album gives you great pleasure. The opening title track begins with an electronic equivalent of a spider spinning a web.

Contrary to folk wisdom, the Cocteau Twins' Blue Bell Knoll album proves that God is in the details.

Cocteau Twins have been my favourite band since a couple of years after they started out. I've bought everything, searched out collaberations, solos, etc. Bands typically come in and out of your favour, or you still like them but just don't play them any more. Cocteau Twins are one of the exceptions - I just don't get tired of listening to them. I've played Blue Bell Knoll on a regular basis, ever since it came out. There's so many layers in the mix and the songs are gorgeous. This record contains their most breathtaking work, in my opinion. I can't recommend it highly enough.

The Cocteau Twins created what is known as "Dream Pop"-- a very apt term. It's lush, rich, and layered with guitars and vocals on top of more guitars and vocals. When this specific cd came out in 1988, many Cocteau Twins' critics derided it. Their previous albums had a lush, gorgeous side, but had a darker side, as well. Critics had claimed that they had forgone their darker side to become more 'commercial' as Blue Bell Knoll was their first cd of entirely lush, ambient melodies-- truly dreamy pop music with no darker side at all. And, although many critics disliked it, all the fans immediately fell in love with it.

This cd is astounding to listen to. From the moment you press play to the moment it's over, you can get completely swept away in this sound. There is really nothing else like it. Musical bliss is how I'd describe it. It's atmospheric. It's rich. It's melodic. It's all-encompassing. If you haven't heard The Cocteau Twins before, then describing them adequately is a very difficult feat-- since there's no other band like them.

I remember back in the late 80s, I listened to this album less often than I'd listen to Victorialand and Treasure. I also listened to some of the band members' work that they had done separately. This Mortal Coil was a favorite of mine and included vocalist Elizabeth Fraser (whose cover of Tim Buckley's Song to the Siren was quite almost as gut-wrenching as the original). However, over the years, this specific album is perfect while I find their other albums just don't appeal to me quite as much as they used to.

Blue Bell Knoll is perfectly sublime.

Six years of sonic exploration culminates here in artistic triumph. The Cocteau Twins began with the somewhat harsh and angular "Garlands" in 1982, before ascending into sonic bliss with "Head Over Heels" (1983), the bewitching "Treasure" (1984) and the beautifully austere ambience of "Victorialand" (1986). Along the way, the band released a series of EP's that continued to explore and refine their signature sound (with the 1985 double EP "Tiny Dynamine/Echoes From A Shallow Bay" probably their most successful from an artistic perspective).

Blue Bell Knoll stands at the pinnacle of the Scottish trio's career because it strikes such a perfect balance between the bounding creativity of their previous work and the commercial sheen of their subsequent releases - in other words, it catches the best of both worlds. Even better, the songwriting is top notch and all three members of the band are in fine form. Robin Guthrie's enormous palette of guitar textures continues to grow in maturity and subtlety. Elizabeth Fraser is also at the peak of her powers, and Blue Bell Knoll testifies to her growth as a vocalist, while bassist Simon Raymonde proves equally adept at supplying the melody and holding down the bottom at the same time.

All the songs here are nothing less than magnificent, but particular highlights include "For Phoebe Still A Baby" which perhaps epitomises the dream-like aspects of the band's sound like no other song in their catalogue. "Suckling The Mender" is also notable for Fraser's astonishing vocal performance and Raymonde's buoyant bass, while the savagely poignant "Ella Megalust Burls Forever" closes the album on a definite note of farewell. Guthrie, Fraser and Raymonde would continue to pursue their unique sound through more commercial territory on subsequent releases, yielding such memorable albums as "Heaven Or Las Vegas" and their swansong "Milk And Kisses", but never again would the band return to the illustrious heights of this album. Blue Bell Knoll is their masterpiece.

Though their other albums are incredible, this one stands above all of them. Everything that makes them so addictively blissful to listen to comes out at its highest zenith here; their lushness, their mystery, their absolute sense of joy and ecstasy. Perhaps the addictive nature of their incredible music warrants a warning label - naah, all we need are more warning labels.
One can almost feel the gentle hands of a mother cuddling one close and warm when listening to "For Phoebe Still a Baby", and the pure natural happiness of "Cico Bluff" is like a long kiss from a childhood sweetheart. And all the other songs demonstrate Fraser's awesome range and Guthrie's mastery of guitar atmospherics to the point of astonishment. But my absolute favorite is "Suckling the Mender", with its gentle latin groove and the indescribable lushness of Fraser's voice and Guthrie's guitars blending together (how the hell does she hit that high note??). If I was left on a deserted island with nothing but that song, I would probably die very happy.
This entire album is an escape to a musical euphoria that no drug can duplicate. It's a musical spa treatment! One of the true diamonds of my entire collection.

To be fair, I thought the original album, even the cd release, was amazing. The remastered version is definitely an improvement, but the improvements are fairly minor in nature. The individual tracks (vocals, guitar, drums, bass, synths) all are a bit brighter and more distinct, hence less "muddy." The original mix was a bit treble-heavy and could sound washed out at times, and that is counterbalanced in the remaster by the clarity given to the individual tracks. If you are a fan of the group and already own this album in its original format (whether vinyl or cd) and have been thinking about replacing it, I'd recommend going with the remastered version. If you're thinking about giving BBK to a friend who is not familiar with the group, give the remastered version. If you're expecting to hear something that sounds incredibly different from the sound of the original version, I suspect that you may be disappointed. All in all, I believe this is an improvement on an album that was already pretty darn close to perfection.

This wasn't my introduction to the beauty that is, nor was, the Cocteau Twins. I'd long before heard their more primal, darker stuff from "Lonely is an Eyesore," dark nights at various clubs around the SF Bay area (Vortex, I-Beam, One Step Beyond), caught videos on MTV back when MTV played videos and 120 minutes was awesome...with Kevin Seal and such....and would also hear them on local radio stations such as KSJS, KFJC, and even KITS (Live 105) when it was decent too. Back when 4AD was still an independent label, and finding its releases was somewhat hard and novel...before Ivo sold out. But then, this album came out. One night, I heard "For Phoebe, Still a Baby" on KSJS, though, of course, I had no idea what the name of the song was at the time. I immediately fell in love. It was so beautiful, so touching, so...enrapturing, if that's even a proper word. Ultimately, I slaved away enough at my menial, minimum wage job (which, at the time was barely $4.25/hr if I remember) long enough to go lay down the cash for the lp at Tower Records in SF...or was it Streetlight?...can't recall those details now. But anyway, I digress...lp was amazing. Beautiful gatefold, gorgeous stuff, through and through. Still is today, when countless imitators have come and gone, this is as timeless and beautiful as it always was. Get it, get it, get it...you will not regret it...even 20 years from now...which it's almost been since this came out.

Music is indeed a very personal experience. I remember first hearing BLUE BELL KNOLL in 1988, not too long after its release. Since I wasn't terribly familiar with the Cocteau Twins at that time, my initial impressions were of two or three (or maybe more) women (presumably French) singing what seemed to me equal parts lullaby, siren song, neo-folk, and - I don't know -- Arabic ululation perhaps? I remember rushing to find a copy of BBK (on vinyl, natch) after being seduced by the title song and "Carolyn's Fingers." (And incidentally -- are those Carolyn's long skinny fingers on the grainy album cover? A long-gone friend said they resembled a stylized depiction of Yoko Ono and John Lennon lying on the beach. Whatever.) Then I made a tape for drives to and from high school and wherever the day took me; and then the associations began: I don't think I can listen to "Cico Buff" for instance without picturing the flat oversized snowflakes parachuting into the ditches while I tried to keep that miserable two-toned Escort L on the slippery county road. And then "A Kissed Out Red Floatboat" (appropriately) reminds me of enduring a painfully ungoth ride on my parent's pontoon boat daydreaming of escaping and/or fleeing the Midwest.

Now it's nearly two decades later (gasp!), I'm still "imprisoned" in the Midwest, and each and every Cocteau Twins song, especially those from my first CT album BLUE BELL KNOLL, is like a very particular time capsule. They remind me of "that little phrase" of music from Proust's SWANN'S WAY that serves as a poignant memento of Swann's early love for Odette. But no need to get so literary about it. Cocteau Twins make very unique music, conducive to daydreaming, wistful recollection, and just plain feeling good - if even in a sometimes begrudging gothic sort of way.

Of course, I've dispelled my first impressions since 1988. If you haven't yet, well, then you should know that Cocteau Twins is a (now-defunct) Scottish band comprised, at least in the most common manifestation, of Elizabeth Fraser, Robin Guthrie, and Simon Raymonde. (Their debut album and first couple 12 inches featured Will Heggie in lieu of Raymonde. A few other things were done without Raymonde who either had not joined yet or was on hiatus - as in the case of VICTORIALAND.) The subject of lyrics is a controversial one. The late Cocteau Twins music is very discernibly English, but many people maintain that this was not always the case. The number of theories and supposed interviews with Ms. Fraser on this topic have yielded as much debate -- at least in the mid-80's heyday -- as the JFK assassination. Whatever the case, gibberish, English, or foreign tongue, it's just great music.

Shortly after the release of HEAVEN OR LAS VEGAS, BBK's follow-up, Alternative Press published a blurb, as I recall, referring to Cocteau Twins as "ABBA for the college set." I was furious -- not because ABBA wasn't cool in its own kind of anti-doctrinaire way, but because the comment seemed to suggest (in my admittedly defensive interpretation) that the band was something frivolous - as "frou-frou" perhaps as those midsummer fires. My question is: What's frivolous about catharsis?

At any rate, BLUE BELL KNOLL and 1984's TREASURE mark the Twins at the height of their powers. (At the obverse end of the spectrum, I'd situate HEAD OVER HEELS, but keep in mind though that even a lesser Cocteau Twins effort, being after all still a Cocteau Twins effort, isn't all that bad.) And they're all magical, multifoiled conduits to a mini-golden age in music - when you scoured the music bins for any and all 4AD releases (Colourbox excepted, Colourbox always excepted) waaaaay before the Warner Brothers distribution deal - when a Cocteau Twins imported CD cost twenty-four bucks and was available only at the neighborhood hole-in-the-wall indie record store - and when after a long, long, long search you finally snagged that "Peppermint Pig" 12" at Wax Trax and your collection was finally complete.

Please note that this review pertains only to the remastered 2003 edition of this album, not to the content of the original release--which is brilliant, amazing, etc, etc... words don't express, though many have been written. My disappointment stems from the remastering itself. Aside from the cranked-up volume, there is simply no improvement over the sound of the original master. And there are some serious deficits: The feedback ending of the title track has been curtailed (too boisterous?), and the synth ending of 'suckling the mender' suffers the same fate. These are not such minor quibbles as they might seem-- little details like these are the interwoven gems in Blue Bell Knoll's sound tapestry, and if anything should have been opened up and showcased a bit. I expected as much from Robin Guthrie after his work remastering the hits for 'Stars and Topsoil'-- notice his treatment of the ending to 'Sugar Hiccup'. And idiosynchrasies continue: the bass on the new version may be a tad fuller, but it must come at the expense of the drums, which have noticeably less impact. I listened to them one-after-another and I couldn't believe what I heard. This was my first purchase of a Cocteau Twins remaster, and it's totally changed my plan to get the whole collection-- ask anyone, I've always said the early Twins' albums could really use a remaster. This was just absolutely not what I had in mind.

While they flew well below the radar of mainstream radio and MTV in the 1980s and `90s, the Scotland pre-shoegazers Cocteau Twins pioneered their own brand of dreamy, sophisticated music, shrouded in a heavenly yet spooky mystique. Guitarist Robin Guthrie created dense, atmospheric layers of sound with his unique manipulation of heavy delays, distortion and feedback loops. This provided a fitting backdrop for vocalist Elizabeth Frazier's haunting soprano voice, her lyrics often cryptic and indecipherable, further lending to the group's sense of mystery.

The music of the Cocteau Twins is hard to describe - and even harder to compare to the work of any other band. Words like heavenward, ethereal, chilling and ominous all come to mind, but certainly don't fully capture their complex and alluring beauty. The Cocteau's exploration of guitar and voice as textures rather than lead instruments became the blueprint for later British indie bands, most notably My Bloody Valentine, whose chief sound-smith Kevin Shields is indebted to Guthrie's sonic experimentation.

Their 1988 album, Blue Bell Knoll, is a quintessential example of the Cocteau Twins' indefinable sound, and is my personal favorite of their catalogue. When I first heard it, I didn't know what to make of it. Soft rock on acid? Half-asleep new wave? I let my guard down and gave the music a chance to affect my psyche, and that it did. As transcendent and compelling now as I imagine it was to listeners when it was released, Blue Bell Knoll fast became one of my favorite records, and you'd be surprised at how many contemporary rock bands cite the Cocteau Twins as a major influence. Challenging and pacifying, lulling and disconcerting, a start-to-finish listen of this album is like a night full of lucid dreams that you remember hours after waking.