Bearing in mind his CV involves stints with the dreadful Stiltskin and (aargh! run away!) the post-Collins Genesis, your reviewer's initial response when receiving RAY WILSON'S solo album "The Next Best Thing" could possibly best be described as mild revulsion.
Yet, while "The Next Best Thing" can hardly be described as a rip-roaring artistic success coming sraight outta the leftfield, it's considerably better than this hack had envisaged and - for a while anyway - reverses this writer's premeditated disdain.
Ray's recent single "These Are The Changes" was a good start, and it's evocative, mantra-like commentary on the state of the post 9/11 World primarily through the words of a succession of American presidents remains stark, atmospheric and as good a place as any for us to ease into Wilson's intelligent rock world.
It's still arguably the best thing here, but certainly the majority of the album's first half convinces. Although slightly histrionic, "How High" showcases the gritty power inherent in the gruff Scotsman's larynx, while the dark'n'mysterious "Adolescent Breakdown" has a chromatic tinge and a touch of Mark Lanegan at the chorus. "Sometimes", meanwhile, finds Wilson demonstrating he's capable of pulling of a sparse, Bowie-ish ballad with just a finely-tinkled grand piano for company.
All of these are worth the price of admission and while both "The Fool In Me" and "Inside" are more in the anthemic vein you might expect from Wilson, they are both rife with emotion and kick up surprisingly effective shitstorms. "The Fool In Me" is also confident enough to indulge in a very Thin Lizzy-ish guitar solo from Scott Spence and audaciously gets away with it.
If Wilson could have kept this pressure up, then "The Next Big Thing" could have ended up as one of the year's major surprises, but sadly he takes his foot off the gas as the album's second half progresses. "MagicTrain" is the early warning sign, initially philosophical in mood, but succumbing to the dreaded arena-sized chorus within 90 seconds or so. The wheezy, Dylan-ish harmonica, meantime, sounds forced in the surroundings and the ensuing "The Actor" is too overwrought to succeed. This time, a harpsichord is dragged kicking and screaming into the plot and again sounds like unnecessary colouring.
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"Ever The Reason" temporarily stops the slide, though Ray's sombre mood pervades and he sounds like he's given up on relationships altogether here, singing "Better to be alone....it has to be said" at the fatalistic chorus. The fact it's pepped up by Amanda Lyons' answering voice is both ironic and effective and it's bitter(sweet) stuff. Unfortunately, it's soon undermined by both "Pumpkinhead" and the closing title track. I don't really understand the significance of the title "Pumpkinhead" in this context, though it appears to be another self-lacerating tirade. Whatever, it's a lot of noise about very little to these ears, and the closing title track sounds like the kind of instrumental The Style Council once knocked out with funky guitar and fanfare trumpet. It's alright, but stylistically confused and a baffling way to bring the album to a close.
Still, while the album shoots its' load early on and limps awkwardly to the finish line, it's still a decent effort from a performer this reviewer would previously have dismissed out of hand. For Ray Wilson, "The Next Best Thing" might be a less commercially successful venture than his previous outings, but it's nonetheless the sound of an artistically-enriched survivor taking important steps towards a more promising future.
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