Album Review
It had been ten years since Platinum Blonde — one of Canada's greatest 1980s powerhouse phenomenas — officially closed up shop — with their last ditch efforts (released as the Blondes) called Yeah, Yeah, Yeah and a posthumous halfhearted live album. Frontman Mark Holmes had been experimenting with music for most of the '90s as a DJ and a studio man, which made the prospect of his first solo project all the more enticing. No. 9 (presumably named after Lennon's seminal soundscape, "Revolution No. 9") plays in an experimental ballpark, especially after the surefire radio-friendly hits of Platinum Blonde. But Mark Holmes is still at the top of his game — and he is gifted! The closest he comes to radio material this time around is "Superheroes," but that is not the point of this album. While Kenny MacLean's post-Platinum Blonde solo material had played it safe — producing melodic gems of albums ripe for Platinum Blonde fans — Holmes has taken the uphill battle: a noisy, frantic, unpredictable panic button of a record. Part acid rock, part electronica, part garage punk, it's as if all the urgency Holmes used to pump into Platinum Blonde suddenly exploded in every direction at once, and the results are a sonic experiment that indeed bears fruit on repeat listenings. No. 9 is also the missing link joining Platinum Blonde and Suede. There is not much point in breaking down the tracks: No. 9 is meant to be listened to start to finish in its entirety (very much like its Beatles namesake song). But it certainly shows the versatility of one of Canada's greatest hitmakers, showcasing a side to him that few had really seen in Platinum Blonde. No. 9 is actually the next logical step after Yeah, Yeah, Yeah — but, in other ways, it seems like it's almost in another dimension.
