Graded on a Curve:
Jah Wobble,
Metal Box – Rebuilt
in Dub

An intriguing concept gone terribly sideways, this. Revisiting one of the most adventurous—and sinister—LPs of its time may have seemed like a grand idea to former Public Image Limited bassist Jah Wobble, whose loping, off-kilter playing lent 1979’s Metal Box much of its malevolent charm. The problem is he leaches all of the dread from the original on his 2021 remake, Metal Box – Rebuilt in Dub.

Without John Lydon—whose vocals added pure demented menace to the proceedings—what have we got? A bass pumped up on steroids. Lots of improvisation—much of it bad, because borderline pleasant—that totally dissipates the relentlessly bad vibe of a drone that characterizes the original. And, ultimately, an album that totally fails to put one’s nerves on edge. Metal Box – Rebuilt in Dub isn’t a reimagining of Metal Box, it’s a betrayal of the very spirit of Metal Box, and why anyone would listen to this perverse act of urban gentrification more than once is beyond me.

Wobble—who’s long been one of the most prolific players on the music scene, delving into a dog’s breakfast of genres and collaborating with seemingly everyone, including Can’s Holger Czukay, Ginger Baker, The Edge, and Pharoah Sanders—plays bass, keyboards, and programmed drums. He also takes on John Lydon’s vocal duties, which is unfortunate—I can only describe his generally stilted singing as posh Edwardian wooden. (Wobble’s desultory John Lydon imitation could be the reason some of the originals have been transformed into instrumentals.) John Klein, who plays Keith Levene in the proceedings, sometimes comes through in the nerve-fraying department, but generally comes up short. And several of the original’s best songs have gone inexplicably MIA–particularly “Death Disco” and “Radio 4.”

Opener “Albatross” exemplifies everything that is wrong—and not quite right enough—about Metal Box – Rebuilt in Dub. Gone are Lydon’s vocals and Wobble’s accelerated heartbeat bass. In their place we get a pummeling—Wobble powers through the song hard rock fashion. What it lacks in subtlety and character it makes up for with relentless aggression. What’s missing, and it may as well be everything, is the Public Image Limited version’s sinister alienation, and that clammy-hand-inducing feel that characterizes much of Metal Box. No disquiet here—it’s all power and glory, and there was nothing glorious about Metal Box.

Also missing in action on “Memories” is Lydon’s disquieting warble—what you get instead is the song on steroids, some fluttering guitar by Klein, a trumpet (synthesized? the credits don’t include trumpet) and synthesized strings. You’ll want to listen to it at top volume, but that was part of the beauty of the original—it was queasy-making at any volume. And that’s what’s lacking from Metal Box – Rebuilt in Dub: listener discomfort bordering on panic attack. You can’t listen to Metal Box dispassionately–it doesn’t afford you that luxury.

“Swan Lake” is the LP’s chief offender. Gone are Lydon’s strangled vocals, Klein’s Levene impersonation is sub par, and Wobble replaces the song’s minimalist malevolence with mock concert piano, violin, and other pieces of prettiness that combined with the song’s sheer power, you will hallucinate the Trans-Siberian Express. It’s all a play on the song title’s classical music origins, I suspect, but the results are all so very ‘orrid and tacky, and leave a bad taste in the ear.

“Poptones” is another lamentable Superfund clean-up site—Wobble’s stiff upper lip vocals are a poor substitute for Lydon’s brilliantly sinister performance—what is “Poptones” without his “the cassette played… poptones!” Picknicking—and dying—in the English countryside shouldn’t sound like this. Gone as well is the song’s lopsided feel—Wobble’s bass is bigger, cleaner, and far too linear for its own good. The synthesizers don’t help either. They add a dimension that distracts from the song’s terrifying intensity, and they’re far too… pretty. And the Japanese bit is a needless and counterproductive distraction, as are the jazzy piano interlude, the oompah horns in the middle, and the orchestral end.

It’s all so much clutter. What was so wonderful about the songs on the original was their stripped-down, remorseless drone—prettying them up with instrumental digressions and ornamentation sacrifices their relentless sense of dis-ease. The “Poptones” on Metal Box – Rebuilt in Dub is almost lovely in places—and I can’t think of a worse fate for it.

Wobble’s echo-laden vocals do Lydon a grave disservice on the supersized disco take of “Careering.” Try as he might, he lacks Lydon’s almost supernatural ability to conjure up existential nausea. What Wobble’s vocals sound like to me are placeholders—something thrown in temporarily until a real vocalist could come in and add character. And the song itself is too jazzy for its own good—this is mood music for dancing fools. I suppose you could say the original was mood music too—but the mood wasn’t this… upbeat. It was like being trapped in a car slowly skidding towards a high cliff.

Wobble’s reworking of instrumental “Graveyard” begins as a spot-on reproduction of the original, then opens up into an exercise in what can only be described as easy listening—the piano is too pretty by far, and the strings and horns are pure distraction. It’s all so very nice, and if there’s one thing Metal Box refuses to do its play nice. “The Suit” is a perfect demonstration of how Wobble has pumped up the bass, trading the original’s wonderful disorienting elasticity for raw power. And Wobble’s imitation of Lydon is a sad thing. The improvisation doesn’t help; on Metal Box the inexorable drone was all.

On Metal Box – Rebuilt in Dub far too much happens. And nowhere is this more evident than on the immensely depressing (but not in the right way) take of the breakneck “Socialist.” The original was simplicity itself—all bass and drums complemented by lots of synth burble. Wobble opens it with a voice (and then voices) going “Da da da da da da da da” until you think you’ll go mad, then follows it with some dreamier vocals singing twaddle. Then you get some far too busy percussion, some ferocious guitar, some intensity increase, and lots of other forms of busy work. It has its moments, but by the time those voices come back you’ll just want it to be over, please God please.

Sans Lydon’s vocals bonus track “Public Image” (from 1978’s First Issue) is a wash from the get-go. Wobble’s portentous talk-speak is a desecration, and it doesn’t help that turning up the volume knob detracts from the original’s punk intensity. Nor does much of the silliness that follows. Wacky voices, synthesized voices, it all takes you a million miles from the original’s blowtorch simplicity.

On second bonus track “Fodderstompf,” also from First Issue, Wobble transforms the amusing but nervous-making cacophony of voices in the original into a stiff repetition of “We only wanted to be loved,” which I suspect old Johnny Rotten would have dismissed with a sneering, “Boring.” Then you get a big horn takeoff followed by a jazzy dub jam that ain’t half bad if that’s your kind of thing and a piano riff that is pure Happy Mondays. Not bad for what it is, but what it is is slick—I half expect the Brecker Brothers to burst into the studio and go full Steely Dan on the mother.

On Metal Box – Rebuilt in Dub Jah Wobble engages in lots of free-form improvisation, but wasn’t the very point of Metal Box that freedom is a risible illusion? Metal Box is a suit of barbed wire—you’re trapped in it, it’s horribly uncomfortable, and you have no freedom of movement. It induces aural claustrophobia—it’s indeed a box, and you’re inside it and can’t get out.

In his reinterpretation of Metal Box Wobble takes liberties, but Metal Box allows for no liberties, and by doing so Mr. Jah commits a sacrilege. There are those who will enjoy these remakes, but I would ask them to remember that enjoyment wasn’t on the programme in 1978. The whole point of Metal Box was to leave you feeling paranoid, disquieted—perhaps even a bit nauseous. It locked you naked in the trunk of a Japanese car while a cassette played pop tones, and all you had to look forward to was a bullet to the back of your head.

GRADED ON A CURVE:
D+

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