Mercury Music Prize

I've grown rather disillusioned when it comes to music awards.  When it's clear that nobody thinks the Grammy's are going to the right people, it's hard not to be.  But I still believed in the Mercury Music Prize, an award given to the "Best British Album of the Year".  It's important to note that "The Year" is not the calendar year, but the 12-month interval that they find convenient for scheduling the award presentation.

This year, that presentation was yesterday.  The award was given to Elbow's The Seldom Seen Kid.  I admit, this is one of the 12 nominees that I have not heard in full, and while a couple listens to the iTunes samples provide reason for hope, they also provide reason for concern.  I'll reserve judgment until I get a chance to get a better read on the album, but right now I'd dub them a slightly more adventurous version of Travis, if not Coldplay.

Elbow plays against type for the Mercury voters, although their tendency towards electronic artists has been less pronounced in the new millennium.  I still thought they'd go for Burial's Untrue, an electronic album from a subgenre they had yet to honor (dubstep) that truly is extraordinary.  A dark, atmospheric album that not only manages to sample both Christina Aguilera and the Metal Gear Solid video game, but to do it in the same song.  But the voters are clearly no longer as devoted to electronic music, and Elbow has won the prize.

To put this in perspective, here's a brief history of the past winners (that I've heard):

1992: Screamadelica by Primal Scream.  Having abandoned their Stones worship and embraced the new generation of stoner, Primal Scream made what is considered the defining album of the Madchester scene.  A dance record with psychedelic sensibilities of classic pop records from the 60s (like "Movin' On Up", which sounds like The Stones with a dance beat) that was perfectly suited for Rave culture and its new drug of choice: ecstasy.

1993: Suede by Suede.  Although history has declared Blur's Parklife the defining record of BritPop, Suede was the genre's first big statement.  America was firmly in control of the rock world after Nirvana had slain the hair metal dragon, and Britain needed to reestablish itself as a major power in the rock world.  Parklife is indeed more "British", in the manner of Ray Davies and Paul Weller, but Suede was the album that gave UK rock its swagger back.  Not that the Americans took much notice.

1994: Elegant Slumming by M People.  Here the proclivity for electronic acts shows up for the first time, with this House record taking the prize over the aforementioned Parklife.  I think that I just don't get House music, but this record does not resonate with me at all.  

1995: Dummy by Portishead.  Having missed out on Massive Attack's Blue Lines (1991), The Mercury voters acknowledged this revitalization of the Trip Hop genre.  With no disrespect to Shara Nelson, Beth Gibbons gave Trip Hop the voice that it's dark moods yearned for, and the brilliant production on this album only adds to the haunting impact of the record.

1996: Different Class by Pulp.  And BritPop roars back.  After Blur and Oasis, Pulp completes the holy trinity of BritPop, and Different Class is the reason why.  An astoundingly catchy dissection of class warfare and sex, Jarvis Cocker's band finally struck gold here after 12 years of on-again-off-again toil, making them by far the oldest band to win the prize.

1998: Bring It On by Gomez.  Opening with synthesizers and effected guitars that would fit on a Primal Scream record, "Get Miles" eventually settles into a bluesy groove that underpins the kind of Joe Cocker-ish voice that I didn't think existed anymore.  Such bluesy elements later mingle with delightful indie pop and more electronic flourishes, making for an inspired choice over the better known Urban Hymns  by The Verve.

2000: The Hour of Bewilderbeast by Badly Drawn Boy.  Badly Drawn Boy's debut is an ambitious record that calls on a diverse group of sounds.  Opener "The Shining" has a great melody and an intriguing arrangement built around a single cello and a single french horn (along with the more traditional acoustic guitar and piano), and the abrupt but calculated transition into "Everybody's Stalking" is attention grabbing.  A solid if long-winded record.

2001: Stories from the City, Stories from the Sea by PJ Harvey.  The first true veteran to win the award (since Pulp were all but completely unknown for the first 10 years of their existence), this record finds Polly Jean abandoning the searing alt-rock of Rid of Me and the warped blues of To Bring You My Love, aiming for a more pop sound.  While this was still not Top 40 material, her embrace of melody and fuller productions was still winning, even if some of her old bite is missing from the lyrics.

2002: A Little Deeper by Ms. Dynamite.  R&B gets its due here, as Ms. Dynamite presents a record that tackles weighty subjects like domestic drama and death without being as cliche as many of her peers.  And while her lyrics still lack the originality to make a big statement, the melodies and arrangements are good enough to make for a truly solid record.  Ms. Dynamite is the British Lauryn Hill, having left So Solid Crew, won over fans and critics with this debut, and since fallen off the face of the earth.

2004: Franz Ferdinand by Franz Ferdinand.  Taking Gang of Four's dance-punk hybrid to the masses by focusing more on sex than politics, Franz Ferdinand became a flagship band of the Post-Punk Revival, introducing the genre to millions who didn't know it even existed.  The singles are great, but the album tracks are very good as well.

2005: I Am a Bird Now by Antony and the Johnsons.  A gorgeous album that explores themes of gender identity with a seriousness absent from previous androgynous rockers like Bowie, but also touches on less controversial topics like abusive relationships, death, and loneliness.  Antony's voice is an instrument of rare beauty, and the arrangements (from the perfect simplicity of "Hope There's Someone" to the weary horns of "Fistful of Love") are stunning.

2006: Whatever People Say I Am, That's What I'm Not by Arctic Monkeys.  The first time that a world-conquering mega-album was given the prize, after the dishonoring of Radiohead's OK Computer, Blur's Parklife, and Oasis' (What's the Story) Morning Glory?.  An engaging rock album that introduced a great new lyrical voice in Alex Turner.

The 1997 prize was given to Drum 'n' Bass collective Reprazent for New Forms, the 1999 prize to Asian Underground artist Talvin Singh for Ok, the 2003 prize to "grime" rapper Dizzee Rascal for Boy in Da Corner, and the 2007 prize to dance-punk/New Rave band The Klaxons for Myths of the Near Future.  All were debut albums.