Music Review: Marc Almond, The Dancing Marquis

By Melissa Bratcher

As a young record buyer, all I needed to know about decadence, I learned from Marc Almond. His records taught me about Jacques Brel, euphemisms for masturbation, the grand alienation of aging out of your passions—you know, the stuff of life.

Now, ages later, it’s delightful to know Marc Almond hasn’t tamed his decadent leanings, and that both his writing and voice have gotten better with time. He was always a fine writer, able to capture a moment or a mood with an artfully placed word and a bit of cleverness. He wasn’t always the greatest of singers, though he did show that with passion and a well-versed torch song, you could overcome any vocal limitations. Don’t dream it, be it, and all that.

Marc Almond’s new extended EP compiles two previously limited edition releases, as well as two new tracks in addition to two remixes. This makes a total of ten tracks, which sounds suspiciously like an actual album, rather than an extended EP, but I digress.

On The Dancing Marquis, Almond collaborates with illustrious producer Tony Visconti (T. Rex, David Bowie) on the title track. “The Dancing Marquis,” with its clever lyrics, has Almond in marvelous voice and is a muscular strut of a song. Visconti adds a weight and meatiness to the proceedings, aided by crack guitar work from Sigue Sigue Sputnik’s Neal X. The guitar playing on “Death Of A Dandy” (dedicated to Marc Bolan and Sebastian Horsley) from Daniel3 is adroit and strong, setting up a counterpoint to the sweet and sad, though witty, requiem (“Place the mirror on your bedside/Kiss the only one you love”).

Jarvis Cocker wrote the first-rate “Worship Me Now,” with Almond as messiah or devil (take your pick). Cocker sings back up on this louche, gospel choir-backed bit of goodness. There are two remixes of “Worship Me Now,” and the Starcluster remix is a bit less obtuse than the Spatial Awareness mix. Former Libertine Carl Barat, who co-starred in the 2012 opera Poppea with Almond, wrote “Love Is Not On Trial.” Barat joins on vocals, though listening to him with Almond is to compare silk and sandpaper. Almond sells the song beautifully, while Barat croaks along like a debauched Blixa Bargeld.

What Marc Almond has always done so well is evoke and provoke: seedy motels, desperate nights out, torment and hopefulness. “Idiot Dancing” is one of those songs—alive and thrilling, a night on the town, abandon and excitement. “So What’s Tonight” is a gorgeous companion piece, an urgent, dark night song, about going out and embracing the darkness and possibility. Steve Nieve adds lovely piano. Almond’s voice is effortless and brilliant, especially around 3:50, in which he slips into an enchanting falsetto.

Marc Almond didn’t stop, did he? Always moving forward, always writing, always innovating, but staying true to himself. You can count on Marc Almond to express the unseemly bits of the human experience, as well as the beautiful parts. On The Dancing Marquis, he does both, and it’s just exquisite.

The Dancing Marquis was released by Strike Force Records on June 16.