Keep the home fire burning
Rufus Wainwright wanders through the corridors of his life with trademark flair on one of his best albums yet, says Roisin O’Connor, while the Dalai Lama releases his first LP
Rufus Wainwright Unfollow the Rules
Rufus Wainwright has always been a daredevil, but his new album is still a shock. Unfollow the Rules, the baroque pop artist’s ninth record, finds him settled in domestic bliss and looking back fondly on his hedonistic past.
Reaching middle age is an interesting landmark to acknowledge with such a bold artistic statement, less so once you realise Wainwright wanted to emulate the classic periods of Leonard Cohen and Frank Sinatra.
Now a father and married to his longtime partner, he sings with contentment, not complacency, as he saunters through the corridors of his life. Recorded in the same LA studios as his career-launching debut, Unfollow the Rules is full of Wainwright’s trademark flair, with lush, symphonic arrangements set next to stripped-down piano ballads.
Over the creeping keys of “Early Morning Madness”, Wainwright addresses drug addiction in his wearied, lopsided drawl. With the sweeping romanticism of “Peaceful Afternoon”, he serenades his husband Jorn Weisbrodt: “Between sex and death and tryin’ to keep the kitchen clean/ Remember wild roses bloom best in ruins forever after”. “Romantical Man” is perhaps the epitome of Wainwright, a sprawling epic in which he yearns for a jaunt around his favourite London spots then calls to his late mother: “Can you hear me? I’ve made it through.”
Producer Michael Froom (Randy Newman, Roy Orbison) understands when to let Wainwright indulge himself, and when to rein him in – this album is elaborate, but never cluttered. There are gorgeous, paredback harmonies on opener “Trouble in Paradise” that nod to his fellow California residents, The Beach Boys, and a clarinet that wraps itself around a Sixties-sounding guitar line. On “Damsel in Distress”, inspired by Vogue editor Anna Wintour, Wainwright jumps forward a decade with hand-claps and shimmers of percussion that pay homage to Joni Mitchell.
There are times when Wainwright extends his gaze beyond life at home. The buzzy space opera “Hatred” provides an ominous soundtrack for the forthcoming 2020 election; elsewhere he makes stark reference to temperatures rising. It doesn’t take long, though, before he feels the need for some “Alone Time”. Age has not dimmed his rich tenor; if anything, it’s given it more texture. You feel wholly reassured as he croons: “Don’t worry, I’ll be back, baby”. This is one of Wainwright’s finest albums.
Dalai Lama Inner World
The Dalai Lama made his Glastonbury debut in 2015 with a speech, and crowds singing him a happy birthday. Five years later, as he turns 85, he is releasing his first album.
Given that the proceeds from Inner World are being donated to educational charities, and that the Tibetan spiritual leader’s wise teachings at its core – on compassion, humanity, children and the future – are intended to effect positive change, I would love to recommend it. Sadly, I cannot.
Mantras chanted by His Holiness are rhythmically woven into wafting new-age concoctions of flutes, chimes and strings. The opening track, “One of My Favourite Prayers”, features the Dalai Lama reciting
verse – by the Indian scholar, Shantideva – that expresses his devotion to helping others (“For as long as space endures, and for as long as living beings remain, until then may I too abide to dispel the misery of the world”). It’s set against a soothing backdrop of floaty pipes and free-form guitar-picking.
As an album to meditate or relax to, this is adequate, but there is little to distinguish the shapeless instrumentation from any you’d find in a luxury spa. Except, perhaps, “Ama La”, which endorses the special responsibilities of mothers in instilling empathetic values in their children, while showcasing Anoushka Shankar’s sitar-playing with a performance that is transporting in its gentle otherworldliness.
In 2015, the Dalai Lama was persuaded to make Inner World by his longtime student from New Zealand, Junelle Kunin, who co-produced the album with her husband. “Music can help people in a way that I can’t,” the guru responded. That, of course, depends on the music. Elisa Bray