FEATURE:
Remakes and Sequels
Kate Bush’s Director’s Cut at Fourteen
_________
THIS time around…
when speaking about Kate Bush, I want to look ahead to the fourteenth anniversary of her ninth studio album, Director’s Cut. I take issue with people who say this is not a studio album because it is a one (an album) where Bush reworked and re-recorded older songs. Calling it a remix album rather than a studio one is incorrect. Director’s Cut is a new work and a new album. The first of two she would release in 2011. The second, 50 Words for Snow, arrived that November. Not much has been written about Director’s Cut. A few reviews and the odd piece but, largely, it is ignored and overlooked. Seen often as one of the less worthy albums of hers. If you look at album ranking features Director’s Cut often comes eighth, ninth or tenth. Granted, it is not in my top five Kate Bush albums, though I look fondly on Director’s Cut and would not write it off or see it as significant. Definitely part of the cannon. Director’s Cut revisits songs from 1989’s The Sensual World and 1993’s The Red Shoes. The songs were remixed and restructured, three of which were re-recorded completely. All of the lead vocals on Director’s Cut were recorded new, as were some of the backing vocals. The drum tracks were reconceived and re-recorded (Steve Gadd on percussion). Released on 16th May, 2011 through her Fish People label, this is unique in Kate Bush’s discography. The one and only time she has reapproached songs that first appeared on other studio albums. Rather than seeing this as remixing old tracks and this not being a studio offering, it very much should be seen as a completely new work. I think that her choice of tracks to explore are interesting. I have said before how some inclusions – such as Rubberband Girl (originally on The Red Shoes), Deeper Understanding (originally off of The Sensual World) and even Flower of the Mountain (originally titled The Sensual World) – are maybe odd and songs you might expect to feature, those such as Why Should I Love You? (The Red Shoes) and Love and Anger (The Sensual World) are not included.
It is interesting to learn why Kate Bush decided to embark on the album that would become Director’s Cut. Almost six years after she released the magnificent double album, Aerial, her mind was maybe thinking back. Before embarking on an album of all original material, there was this sense of some of her older work needing to be reassessed and re-recorded. I can appreciate there are stresses and some unhappy memories associated with The Red Shoes. In retrospect, the album does not sound as warm and rich as it could have been. Perhaps too much machinery and technology at her hands when she produced The Sensual World. Wanting to strip these albums back and ensuring that only essential layers and sounds remain. Not only can we see these older songs in a brand new light. I know people were compelled to look back at the albums the songs are from. I am repeating things I have said before though, when thinking of Director’s Cut, we need some context. In this 2011 feature from The Guardian, there is some useful detail and background:
"I think of this as a new album," Bush said. Though some of the 11 tracks were first issued more than 20 years ago, all have new lead vocals, new drums, and substantially reworked instrumentation. Three of the songs, including This Woman's Work, have been completely re-recorded. "For some time I have felt that I wanted to revisit tracks from these two albums and that they could benefit from having new life breathed into them," Bush explained. "Now these songs have another layer of work woven into their fabric."
The Sensual World is perhaps the most changed of these tracks – it has not even retained its original title. Now called Flower of the Mountain, the original lyrics have been replaced by a passage from James Joyce's 1922 novel. "Originally when I wrote the song The Sensual World I had used text from the end of Ulysses," Bush said. "When I asked for permission to use the text I was refused, which was disappointing. I then wrote my own lyrics for the song, although I felt that the original idea had been more interesting. Well, I'm not James Joyce am I? When I came to work on this project I thought I would ask for permission again and this time they said yes ... I am delighted that I have had the chance to fulfill the original concept”.
Prior to coming to some reviews, I want to bring in part of an interview from 2011. Interview Magazine asked some interesting questions I wanted to highlight. There were not that many interviews conducted around the release of Director’s Cut. It is a shame. A certain level of apathy from the press. Maybe Kate Bush wanted fewer interviews around this album as she knew she would be releasing another one shortly afterwards. In retrospect, the level of exposure and attention paid to Directors Cut was underwhelming. I think people should explore this album as many unfairly criticise it:
“Bush’s most recent album, Director’s Cut (Fish People/EMI), offers reinterpretations of 11 of her previously released songs, with new vocal performances and instrumentation. “Flower of The Mountain” (originally released under the title “The Sensual World”) is typical of Bush’s expansive musicality. A time-traveling ode to sensual surrender, the song draws on Arabic melodies to create a primal, ancient atmosphere. “Song of Solomon” is a slow, bouncing, bass-heavy blues groove, stretched out and slowed down as if played in zero gravity. “Lily” is a mad vision of fear, fire, funk, and biblical name-dropping. The content of the songs is equally diverse; on “Deeper Understanding,” she even offers a futuristic high-concept R&B ode to the addictive false solace of the Internet. But the finest and most startling moments on Director’s Cut are the simplest and most stark: “Moments of Pleasure” is a painful meditation for voice and piano, and the aching melancholy of “Never Be Mine” should literally come with a warning—it will stop you in your tracks.
Despite all the 52-year-old Bush’s successes, she has chosen to lead a very private life. She has only toured once and has generally been reticent about giving interviews. But when I spoke with her by phone from her home outside of London, she was gracious, easy-going, and anything but reclusive.
DIMITRI EHRLICH: I thought we’d begin with talking about Director’s Cut. Let’s talk about “The Sensual World” [off 1989’s The Sensual World]. I know that when you first recorded that song, you had originally wanted to use some text from James Joyce’s Ulysses, which is always a favorite on pop radio here in America.
KATE BUSH: [laughs] Yes.
EHRLICH: But the Joyce estate refused permission, and now, 22 years later you finally got the okay.
BUSH: Yes, originally, as you say, I wanted to use part of the text, and approached for permission, and was refused. I was a bit disappointed, but it was completely their prerogative—they were being very protective to the work, which I think is a good thing. So I had to sort of go off and write my own lyrics, which . . . They were okay, but it always felt like a bit of a compromise really. It was nowhere near as interesting as the original idea. When I started to work on this project, I thought it was worth a shot just asking again, because they could only say no. But to my absolute delight—and surprise—they agreed.
EHRLICH: Looking at your lyrics to “Song of Solomon,” I found it interesting how you juxtaposed sexuality with spirituality. What inspired that?
BUSH: Well, it was quite an interesting process for me to go back and re-sing these songs because, for all kinds of reasons, they’re not the songs I would write now. I can’t really remember what my thought process was when I wrote that one originally. I just thought it was one of those songs that could benefit from a revisit. That was just one of the songs that popped into my head. I didn’t really take a great deal of time choosing the list of songs, I just kind of wrote down the first things that came into my head.
EHRLICH: It’s funny. I’d think revisiting those songs would almost be like looking at old photographs or reading old love letters from a long time ago, because as a songwriter, the emotions that you’re tapping into are the most primal, raw, and immediate ones. Was it strange to step into the emotional clothing you had worn 20 years ago and see how it fit and wonder, Who is this person?
BUSH: Yeah, it was. At first, it was quite difficult, and, at a couple of points, I nearly gave up the whole process. I found that by just slightly lowering the key of most of the songs, suddenly it kind of gave me a way in, because my voice is just lower now. So that helped me to step back into it. And although they were old songs, it all started to feel very much like a new process and, in a lot of ways, ended up feeling like I was just making a new album—it’s just that the material was already written. When I listen to it now, it feels like a new record to me.
EHRLICH: Why did you decide to re-record existing material rather than do something new, or just release the old versions remixed, or whatever?
BUSH: Well, I really didn’t see it as a substitute for a greatest hits package, but it was something I’d wanted to do for a few years. I guess I just kind of felt like there were songs on those two albums [The Sensual World and The Red Shoes (1993)] that were quite interesting but that they could really benefit from having new life breathed into them. I don’t really listen to my old stuff, but on occasion, I would either hear a track on the radio or a friend might play me one, and there was generally a bit of an edgy sound to it, which was mainly due to the digital equipment that we were using, which was state of the art at the time—and I think everyone felt pressured to be working that way. But I still remain a huge fan of analog. So there were elements of the production that I felt were either a little bit dated or a bit cluttered. So what I wanted to do was empty them out and let the songs breathe more.
EHRLICH: Your music has always been defiantly different than American pop. Do you have a love-hate relationship with classic American pop? Do you just find it boring, or is there something about it that you secretly enjoy as a guilty pleasure?
BUSH: [laughs] What a thing to say! No, I mean, god, some of the best pop music ever has come out of the States. Some of that Motown stuff is some of the best songs ever written. It’s not that I don’t like American pop; I’m a huge admirer of it, but I think my roots came from a very English and Irish base. Is it all sort of totally non-American sounding, do you think?
EHRLICH: In a good way. Your music is very original—especially the lyrical structure. It doesn’t have the kind of obvious rhyme structure and subject matter.
BUSH: Oh, well, thank you. I think with some of the rhyme structures that might be connected to the fact that I do sing in an English as opposed to an American accent, which a lot of English singers have done.
EHRLICH: I went to Oxford for a period while I was in college, and we used to say America and Britain are two cultures separated by a common language.
BUSH: I think it’s a very interesting observation. I think I was just lucky to be brought up in a very musical family. My two older brothers were, and still are, very musical and very creative, and music was a big part of my life from a very young age, so it is quite natural for me to become involved in music in the way that I did.
EHRLICH: What were your early lyrics about when you began exploring composition?
BUSH: Initially, I used to just play hymns that I knew.
EHRLICH: Interesting that your music is so adventurous, melodically, because hymns tend to be very simple, so it’s interesting that you came from such a grounded place.
Bush: Well, I just sort of used to tinker around, and then I moved on to the piano. My father was always playing the piano. He played all kinds of music—Gershwin, all kinds of stuff. He was really a hugely encouraging force to me when I was little. I used to write loads of songs when I was really young, and he was always there to listen to them for me. And it was a really wonderful thing that he did because he made me feel that they had some worth, even when they didn’t really. And he was always very honest with me. He’d say if he didn’t think perhaps one song wasthat good, or he liked that one. What was greatwas that he’d give me that time, and would always come and listen when we’d written something. So, you know, he was fantastic because he gave me the sense that he believed in me.
Ehrlich: Your lyrics often seem highly personal, but some of your earlier songs drew on more cinematic source material, like old crime films for “There Goes a Tenner,” the British horror movie The Innocents [1961] for “The Infant Kiss,” and even The Shining [1980] for “Get Out of My House.” How do these sorts of influences make their way into your work? Is it a conscious thing, or does it just happen?
BUSH: Well, “Get Out of My House” was more to do with the book than the film, just to say that. But whatever is going on in your life when you’re writing has to somehow seep into your work. And maybe if my songs feel personal, that’s very nice. I like that. I take that as a great compliment. But there are very few that really have any sort of autobiographical content. I guess that you could say that “Moments of Pleasure” has some autobiographical content, probably out of all the songs I’ve written. But I think what is great is that if anything that I do is interesting to somebody else, then I really don’t think it matters at all what I had originally intended. If people like the song, or they can draw some feeling from it, then I’m really happy about that. Quite often, lyrics get misunderstood—and I never mind that either. I guess what all artists want is for their work to touch someone or for it to bethought provoking”.
I will wrap up soon. However, before doing so, it is worth getting some critical perspective. First up is NRP and their words. It was hugely exciting and unexpected when Kate Bush announced Director’s Cut. Since 2011, Bush has reissued albums and looked back. It was quite rare back in 2011. Not many occasions when she spent time and effort re-engaging with previous work. You know she must care deeply about The Sensual World and The Red Shoes but felt that something was missing. A new opportunity to record the songs so that you can feel and hear what was perhaps missing first time around:
“Bush is best known for her canonized 1985 album Hounds of Love. It's tempting to call that record a turning point in pop: It's as weird as it is catchy, as intelligent as it is danceable. And it's only gotten better with age.
Four years after Hounds of Love, Bush released The Sensual World, on which the uncompromising singer did something out of character: She compromised. The album's title track was conceived as a distilled version of Molly Bloom's soliloquy from James Joyce's Ulysses. (If you're like me and just couldn't make it to the end of Ulysses, you may remember the passage from Sally Kellerman's impassioned reading in the Rodney Dangerfield movie Back to School.) When Bush approached the Joyce estate about using actual passages from the book, the estate declined, leaving Bush to paraphrase the text as best she could. (So Dangerfield got the thumbs up, and Bush didn't? Who says the man didn't get any respect?)
In the eyes of fans, The Sensual World hardly suffered from the limitation, but "good enough" never sat right with Bush. So, more than 20 years later, she asked again — and this time got the answer she was looking for.
The opportunity to remake the song motivated Bush to tinker with other entries in her discography. The result is Director's Cut, a collection of 11 revamped songs that made their first appearances on The Sensual World and 1993's The Red Shoes. With new words and vocals, "The Sensual World" has been re-christened "Flower of the Mountain." Bush re-recorded all of her vocals and the drums, but left most of the other instrumentation untouched, including Eric Clapton's guitar in "And So Is Love." (Okay, so she's made a few mistakes here and there.)
For those familiar only with Hounds of Love, Director's Cut is bound to open eyes. It's less energetic, hardly danceable, and it at times resembles the work of Bush's duet partner Peter Gabriel. But give the songs time. Let Bush's songwriting sink in. Just like her, you'll find yourself wanting to return to them”
The second and final review is going to come from Pitchfork. I have found a few very positive reviews. Many tend to be the sort of three-star middling ones that hint at positives but also feel that there is something futile about Director’s Cut. Many preferring the original versions. I feel that Director’s Cut allows us to get this wonderful perspective on songs that have new gravity and meaning with a lower and older voice singing them. Especially tracks like This Woman’s Work and Moments of Pleasure:
“Director's Cut transforms songs from 1989's The Sensual World and 1993's The Red Shoes. Sometimes crucial elements (rhythm tracks, vocals) are re-recorded. Some aspects (like certain guest performances) are left unchanged. Occasionally an entire song gets a note-by-note remake. It's a major and unexpected reinvention of familiar and very time-bound material, not quite "new" and also not quite what fans have been playing for years now. The very different mix of Director's Cut changes not just the sound but the emotional kick inside many of these songs. What was once the work of a shy woman who came to roaring life on record is now just as often subdued, reflective, inward-looking. It's worthy of standing as its own entry in Bush's discography, without necessarily replacing the albums it draws from.
At the time of its release, The Sensual World seemed both up to date and not of its time. The glossy studio-obsessive production sounded definitely of its moment, fitting for the era of booming drums and reverb-soaked pop trifles from bands like Fine Young Cannibals and INXS. But the songs, and Bush's performances, were stark reminders that she actually came out of the same tradition that gave us the operatic vocals of prog rock, the jazz-tinged complexity of the Canterbury psychedelic scene, the unashamed theatricality that led to Peter Gabriel dressing up like a giant daffodil. It made for a strange hybrid, the smoothness of the Big 80s meets the complexity and expressionism of the prog 70s. Much of the record's tension came from wrapping shiny pop accessibility around songs that might burst into emotionally raw strangeness at any time. Bush played to the moment, but couldn't be contained by it.
By the time of The Red Shoes-- with its prog structures, guest-star guitar heroics, world music touches, all given another dose of pop polish-- Bush's music was too ornate to fit in with the stripped-down "realness" of alt-rock. It was also still too defiantly individual to sit alongside the work of her 70s and 80s peers, many of whom had moved into comfortable, profitable, and bland MOR singer-songwriter territory. Her moment hadn't so much passed-- though it'd be hard to point out anyone else making music that sounded like this at the time-- as she'd become a genre-of-one. The fussed-over textures and genteel folk touches of adult contemporary peeled back mid-song to reveal naked eroticism, rage, joy, Bush's voice spluttering out wordless weirdness or leaping into ecstatic ululations.
What Bush has done on Director's Cut, put simply, is to strip the 80s from these songs. (That goes for the Red Shoes material, too, even though the album was released in the 90s.) The gigantic drums and digital polish, what both dated the music instantly and gave it that stark contrast between accessibility and the deeply personal, have been replaced with less showy rhythm tracks, and a warmer, more intimate atmosphere. On the original "The Sensual World", the elements drawn from Celtic folk felt like striking intrusions in an all-digital world. Renamed "Flower of the Mountain" here, those rustic elements no longer feel quite so out of place, whether you found the original an intriguing hybrid or an awkward merger of old and new. The songs still don't have the feel of a band playing together, but they have a new unity, even the synthetic elements part of a lovingly handcrafted sound. "The Red Shoes", another Celtic-inflected standout, with one of Bush's wildest performances, gains a new intensity precisely because the instruments no longer feel so sterile”.
I do love the tone and feel of Director’s Cut. When critics rank the album as bottom or last, they always say that these new versions will never replace the original. That was never the aim. Rather than seeing it as Kate Bush covering her own songs, you need to see Director’s Cut as fresh work. A series of eleven new tracks. As a body of work, they hang together. Granted, I would replace maybe three of the tracks and bring in three that I feel would work better. I think I mentioned before how the tracklisting is unusually out of balance. Bush was obviously going to open with Flower of the Mountain as that was sport of the whole reason for Director’s Cut. However, it is very middle-heavy. Ending with Rubberband Girl seems odd as I feel that This Woman’s Work would have been a perfect closer. However, these niggles aside, we should show more respect for Director’s Cut. Released on 16th May, 2011, Bush’s ninth studio album cleared the path for 50 Words for Snow. As nobody else will write about Director’s Cut ahead of its fourteenth anniversary, I felt that it at least deserved…
THIS recognition.