Blueprint For A Sunrise

Ever found yourself looking at one of those pieces of modern art – a Tracy Emmett or a Damian Hurst say – and thought, ‘Well, I just don’t get it. It could be genius, it could be crap, I just don’t know’. Listening to Yoko Ono’s first album in five years is not unlike that experience, an analogy all the more accurate given Ono’s status as a genuine multi-media artist.

Designed to work in tandem with her visual medium, safe to say that there’s nothing here that could end up soundtracking the goals on ‘Match Of The Day’ or advertising coffee. This is music as part of a larger concept and, as with all such concepts, it is often pretty hard work. Clattering rhythms, spoken word pieces, Ono’s screeching voice and bizarre lyrics – some of it is plain unlistenable. If there is a concept to the piece than it would probably be an examination of feminism in the 21st century and there are, buried deep amongst it all, some incisive points.

Given her long-standing association with the city, it’s perhaps no surprise that there’s more than a hint of the New York art rock scene about Blueprint For A Sunrise, from Laurie Anderson to Patti Smith to Warhol. In truth, it’s all very alienating – you’re either in or you’re out – and you even get the feeling that the rather pleasant reggae of ‘I’m Not Getting Enough’ is either designed to lull you into a false sense of security or maybe even induce feelings of guilt that one could latch onto something that sounds like UB40 in the midst of all this worthiness.

Blueprint For A Sunrise, then, could be genius, could be crap, buggered if I know. If you need me I’ll be listening to the new Five album.