Saturn's Pattern

Weller’s magpie tendencies pay dividends.

Saturns Pattern may lack an apostrophe but there’s nothing missing from his musical grammar. He’s still in his prime as a musician.

Weller's 12th solo album is characterised by cut-ups and sound collages, built around riffs and grooves. There are fadeouts and fade-ins mid-song, vocals come heavily treated, instruments are strafed with sound effects. Essentially, Weller is making a virtue of his processes. [Jun 2015, p.65]

In the classic sense this is yet another worthy piece from an undeniable master.

Not many rock icons can pull off such a thoroughly incredible late-career renaissance, but Saturns Pattern demonstrates that Paul Weller is currently in the thick of one.

A modestly sized, nine-track snapshot of the singer in a more appealingly inward phase.

When he indulges in a wash of Vox organ and a rush of 12-string guitars, or when he updates Curtis Mayfield on "Phoenix," they play like transmissions from the past on an album that is focused on the now, and the willful, harmonious collisions of history and the future give Saturn's Pattern its kick, while the warm thrum of the grooves gives it its soul.

Saturns Pattern is an album to wallow joyously in, even if the songs are as whimsical as Weller’s approach to punctuation.

While it might not feature too many songs the faithful will be hollering for at gigs, it's crammed full of ear candy. [Jun 2015, p.98]

Such a willingness to experiment is often claimed to be the secret of his longevity, and if that throws up the odd clunker now and again, the other results more than make up for them.

Weller's 12th solo album is a robust binding of the experimental tangents on 2008's 22 Dreams and 2012's Sonik Kicks into taut, acid-flecked turbulence and modern-dance synthesis.

The presence of old Jam oppo Steve Brookes on slide guitar during a pop-art inspired In The Car, meanwhile, only adds to the sense of Weller returning to what he knows best. [Jun 2015, p.94]

Twelfth solo album Saturns Pattern backs up recent promises of another shift in sound, sending him into uncharted, acid-spiked waters.

Though only nine songs long, Saturn’s Pattern is as close to heavenly as Weller’s ever been.

With the thunderous blues-rock of “White Sky” (where his voice takes on gospel fervor), the glam momentum of “Long Time,” and the watery vibe of “These City Streets,” he remains defiantly all over the map.

Far more satisfying are the contemplative songs, in particular These City Streets, wherein the new and old Weller are reconciled.

While the celestial sound-effects sometimes make Saturn’s Pattern sound like the soundtrack to Lost In Space or a retro computer game, generally what you can clearly hear is that Weller is creating music confidently again.