|
|
Grosse Pointe Blank
Original Soundtrack
|
Released |
1997 |
|
Film summary |
Where do you see yourself in ten years time? 2.4 children and a mortgage, or a career as a professional killer with two cops and a union leader on your tail, perhaps. Marty Blank chose the latter, leaving his home town of Grosse Pointe and going awol for a decade. Forced into attending his High School reunion to complete his latest assignment, Marty is finally given the chance to return home, and rekindle his relationship with the girl he stood up on prom night all those years ago. Can a hitman who has "actually got to like" killing really turn over a new non-violent leaf, and will Debi let him back into her life after a ten year absence? |
|
Album summary |
Imagine returning to your school reunion in ten years time, and the music you would be faced with on that oh-so-embarrassing dancefloor (Mine would probably include 911 and Fat Les). Despite being based around this cringeworthy scenario, Grosse Pointe Blank culls only the finest alternative bands of the eighties to mould a soundtrack which is as evocative of the film itself as of its decade. Class British acts including The Specials and The Clash feature alongside their American eighties counterparts, proving that there was more to the era than synths and eye liner. And not a snood in sight. |
The eighties, home of MC Hammer, the A-Team, and more ludicrous haircuts than an international mullet convention. Ironic, then, that The Decade Taste ForgotTM should play host to the soundtrack of one of the nineties' coolest films. Just as John Cusack manages to make the oxymoron "sensitive killer" into a viable - and disturbingly endearing - characteristic in hitman Marty Blank, so this CD unites the phrases "eighties" and "actually quite good music, really".
The figureheads are all here, with a blistering 'Rudie Can't Fail' from The Clash, and Paul Weller's shamelessly gruff vocals on The Jam's 'Absolute Beginners' to headline proceedings. An all-British selection is rounded off with The (English) Beat sounding menacingly disturbed as they "drift gently into mental illness" on 'Mirror in the Bathroom'.
Alongside a "my God, wasn't that Vanilla Ice just then?" moment with Bowie/Queen's 'Under Pressure', contributions from Guns N' Roses and Faith No More almost tip the balance of the album towards that most reviled of commodities - "rawk". Nevertheless, it regains focus with the welcome inclusion of The Specials at their ska-bending, Madness-baiting best. Although is it me, or does the beginning of 'Pressure Drop' sound alarmingly like Boney M?
Slightly disappointing is a second outing for the Violent Femmes' 'Blister In The Sun', in the form of 'Blister 2000' - essentially a slightly slowed down version of the Lou-Reed-butchering-Status-Quo guitar pulverising original. Much better is Johnny Nash's sparkling 'I Can See Clearly Now', with its optimism driven "it's gonna be a bright, bright sunshiny day" sitting uncomfortably against the darker antagonism of the album's opening tracks.
As always with these compilations, there is at least one notable admission. Where is Motorhead's 'Ace of Spades', soundtrack to the film's gut-wrenchingly hilarious Ultimart shoot-out scene? Where are Echo and the Bunnymen and The Pixies, so tantalisingly promised by Minnie Driver's reunion-cynical DJ? Remind me to save my pennies for the second installment.
The eighties: Not entirely devoid of taste. You just have to look a bit harder. Congratulations Grosse Pointe Blank on a successful search.
See Eskimo's review of 'Grosse Pointe Blank'
