The best track here (for me) is opener Cold Heart, thanks to the disco genius of Australian producers PNAU. I didn’t think the Stevie Nicks song was either of their best work (but fun to hear) and he has perhaps controversially added himself in to the last song Glen Campbell ever recorded. The Young Thug collaboration feels vibrant, the Eddie Vedder duet punches above its weight, with a clearly energised Elton blistering through three minutes of hectic honkytonk.
He reworks Pet Shop Boys with English indie upstarts Years and Years (not sure the world needed this, but to each their own) and there are decent originals that range from soulful ballads to disco bangers. One Of Me featured on Lil Nas X’s debut and The Pink Phantom likewise popped up on the last Gorillaz record. The excellent Metallica cover featured on the recent, massive re-release of The Black Album. There’s a mix of covers and originals and tracks you may have heard elsewhere before. Then you realise, you’re so grateful someone did.
When he sings, “ Every single morning you have to face yourself”, and Anita Clark whispers back, “ and it’s not much fun”, you laugh and cry at the same time, simultaneously wondering why anyone would dare put such confronting, personal thoughts in song form. Wryly funny, uncomfortably relatable, poetic, but laced with philosophical truth and an honesty rare in pop. The latter captures his band’s rousing energy with a dreamy chorus that echoes superficial, yet deep-seated human fear. Middle-age haunts the middle section, as physical insecurity and contemplation of our weird biological forms permeates through I’m A Bit Out Of Shape, My Naked Body and Who Would Want To Be Lonely. Such are the aural realms Buda dwells in. You can easily draw lines to classic Springsteen or Dylan, Dire Straits or Kurt Vile, if you wanted. More like a gentle breeze than a hurricane, Here Comes The Wind fades in layered guitars, then soft, wordless vocals, before the drum fill defibrillates the song to life. He’s responsible for terrific, self-deprecating love songs (often riddled with endearing shyness) and more than a few quietly confident, exuberant anthems.
His trademark dash of bright pink lipstick contrasts against rosy, wind blushed cheeks and a solemn middle-distance stare captures the album’s sense of seriousness in the face of madness.Ī favourite son of The Phoenix Foundation, Luke Buda is a jolly good songwriter who isn’t jolly often, but never takes himself seriously enough to be considered a naval-gazer. Just two years later, the image on Vesuvius showed a bearded Buda looking downwards, his face reflected beneath a mountain, presumably of worry.īy contrast, Buda boasts our hero twelve years older and wiser, replete with a blonde, curly wig. REVIEW: Luke Buda’s latest release features a fetching self-portrait on the cover consistent with the visual theme of his solo albums.Ģ006’s Special Surprise sported boyish good looks, shining under a sweptback fringe, staring down the barrel and brimming with the confidence of youth.