Machine Translations Seven Seven by: Chris Thompson Tue:04-Dec-07 Label: Spunk Year: 2007 WB rating 68 out of 100

In 2002, Beck released the melancholy masterpiece Seachange, a stripped-back, toned-down album that forewent almost everything that made him what he was. Gone were the loops and samples, the bells and whistles, and in their place were simple, emotive tracks, stripped bare so all that remained was the songwriting.

In the 3 years since Machine Translations’ last LP, 2004’s Venus Traps Fly, J Walker has undergone something of a seachange (or more accurately, a treechange) of his own – a move to regional Victoria, a new child and a progression into producing the music of others changing his outlook on life and on music. The concrete result of this personal upheaval is Machine Translations’ seventh album, Seven Seven.

While not as raw and unadorned as Seachange, it is certainly a step in a simpler direction, eschewing the overdubs and lush instrumentation that have been a feature of the group’s work to date. In a recent interview with Wireless Bollinger, Walker said he was “trying to make everything he put on the record count”, that is, not add layers of instrumentation unless the song actually called for it. But as a result, the album often feels as though there is something missing – as though the material is somehow left wanting for something, even though that thing was never actually there in the first place.

The album opens with ‘Everything Feels New’, both title and song a portent of things to come. Sounding like a bare version of the opening title track from Venus Traps Fly, it does indeed feel new. But it also provides an insight to the broader vision of the album, all acoustic guitar and melancholy but with a hint of better things to come. At 6.33 it is also a hefty introduction to the album, perhaps a little long for its own good.

Follow-up ‘Love Won’t Wait’ is classic Machine Translations, Walker’s distinctive vocals rolling comfortably over a clever-but-simple piano and percussion backing. And when the instrumentation builds up, strings and synths swirling into sitar and harmonies, it feels right and everything is good in the world.

‘You’ll Change’ is bubblegum pop, Machine Translaions-style, jangly acoustic guitar and a natural, upbeat melody providing the most joyful moments on the album. But from there the album moves from track to track without any real direction; ‘She Makes Signs’, ‘The First Stone’ and ‘Need a Miracle’ all passing without really leaving a lasting impression.

And herein lies the problem with Seven Seven; in the past, the instrumentation was part of what made Walker’s songs tick. It is unfair to suggest, as some have, that a great song should still be great when stripped down to its bones. On the contrary, sometimes what makes a song great is the flesh that hangs on those bones. And too often on Seven Seven is a skeleton left standing naked when some flesh would make it far more attractive.

The standout track on the album is undoubtedly ‘Laboratory’, a lover’s lament about the sins of the past. “If there’s ten things I could change about you now, you would be my laboratory and that seems so unfair,” sings Walker liltingly. An unashamed plea for affection, protection and forgiveness in love, it is one of the prettiest songs of the year. Interestingly, it is also one of the most threadbare tracks on the album, and one of the rare occasions such miserly production is called for.

Seven Seven is an intriguing album. Part retrospective, part introspective and part progressive, it never really finds its stride. It is at times touching and beautiful, at times bloated and, frankly, a bit boring. Which is a shame, because with a more focused vision and some pruning in the right places it could well have been another brilliant addition to the burgeoning body of Machine Translations’ work.