In trying to figure out why Delgados never reached a level of prominence merited by their astounding 21st-century output, there's two ways of thinking-- could be that their unfathomable capacity for negative thinking turned out to be some sort of self-fulfilling prophecy. Or maybe they really never did fit in-- though they had Dave Fridmann behind the boards at the peak of his powers, he got there by producing bands like Flaming Lips and Mercury Rev who embodied completely opposite attitudes. And though they were at the peak of their powers when domestic listeners were turning their ears to the British Isles, they were the kind of listeners so turned off by Kid A that they were deluded into thinking Coldplay and Travis bore any resemblance to The Bends.
*And now upon the release of his solo debut, *Lord Cut-Glass, Delgados frontman Alun Woodward is still a misfit, even in his own home. While Scotland has been known as of late for producing romantic anthem-toters with bleeding hearts and bleeding ears, Woodward is still the kid in the back of the poetry class casting spitballs. Lyrically, Lord Cut-Glass could be mistaken for Hate's sequel, a call for the utter negation of social contracts. "Even Jesus Couldn't Love You" is a sprawling, initially awkward composition of taunts at an anonymous no-hoper ("did your pony not wuvv you?") that swings between a verse melody that tensely and steadily nudges upward and mantra-like repetition of the song's says-it-all title.
But if Woodward is still wheelhousing it as a wordsmith, Lord Cut-Glass is a significantly more singer-songwriterly affair musically. It's a relative claim: There's still strings all over the place, either mocking in their pizzicato affectations or swaddling madrigal-like minor keys ("You Know", "Toot Toot"), and a female vocalist who sounds suspiciously like his fellow Delgados hatemonger Emma Pollock. "Jesus" and "Look After Your Wife" give off the impression that Lord Cut-Glass could be undercut by overly distracted composition, but most of its remainder is built on a chassis of cowboy chords ("Holy Fuck!" "I'm A Great Example to the Dogs"). But Woodward deflates the puffier song lengths and takes a melodic turn that owes more to Paul McCartney and Stuart Murdoch. "Picasso" has a "Blackbird"-like acoustic lilt that's almost honestly sweet, while the brief piano ballad "Be Careful What You Wish For" recalls "For No One", a low-key indication that Woodward's sarcasm is likely a defense mechanism for genuine loneliness.
Granted, this runs the risk of crossing the radar of only Delgados diehards, who would chalk this up as another one of life's inevitable letdowns: Woodward's snark can cut a little predictable and broad and he'll give into an occasional stale, eyeball-rolling rhyme. But really, Lord Cut-Glass gets an unintentional boost from the recent fortunes of Future of the Left, who rose from a similarly underappreciated act (Mclusky) even angrier and misanthropic than before-- hopefully, Woodward can make a second-album leap the same way Travels With Myself and Another did, but if Lord Cut-Glass can at least be seen as an indication that he has no plans to go soft on us, that in and of itself is a success.
