The Night

It's a little disconcerting reviewing the new album by an artist who died over six months previously, but this album stands as the last will and testament of Mark Sandman, Morphine's singer, songwriter and bassist, who collapsed and died on stage last summer.

Morphine were always an intriguing band whose stock-in-trade was a sort of edgy, noirish jazz-rock which made them stand out from the crowd but also, commercially, left them out in the cold.

The Night has a haunted, intense and claustrophobic feel to it that brings to mind the dark mutterings of early Nick Cave. 'Like A Mirror' even has a Martha Lee as its heroine - just the kind of gal who'd pop up in Murder Ballads, no? Yet the title track, which opens the album, has Sandman coming over all Leonard Cohen on us, piling on the metaphors as he addresses Lilah, his femme fatale whom he hopes is "waiting for me across a carpet of stars". It's a stunning start that sets the tone for the rest of the album.

'So Many Ways' and 'Souvenir' show just what a great rhythm section Morphine had: the clear, insistent drumming; the drowsy, weary bass tones that ground the songs in a sort of permanent midnight. But the witching hour has its seductive qualities too: 'Top Floor, Bottom Buzzer' recounts first the anticipation, and then the thrill of going to a great party with your good friends while 'I'm Yours, You're Mine' and 'The Way We Met' focus on more private pleasures.

It all ends with the slow burn-out of 'Take Me With You', which brings the curtain down with depressing finality on an album and a band who were difficult but ultimately rewarding.