Original Pirate Material

This weekend's Observer Music Monthly gave their album of the decade spot to The Streets for their 2002 debut album, Original Pirate Material. It's the wrong choice, obviously; the accolade should, by definition almost, go to Radiohead for one of their four albums released in the noughties. Admittedly, Kid A came in a solid second, but why? Well, I have to say, I have some sympathy for the Observer's decision. Original Pirate Material was the first album I ever bought and listened to from first to last. Something about the aura that surrounded the music endeared it to teenagers of my generation. We were well below the threshold of the topics under discussion (drinking, clubbing, drugs, and love), and yet you felt as though you were being spoken to, or spoken for. This was music produced with us in mind. Undoubtedly, the social message of the album was strong and, probably, ignored by listeners of similar years, and yet you felt as though The Streets were a band for you and about you. We were being directly addressed through the lyrics spoken, not sung by Mike Skinner in his inimitable, characteristic style. Repeat a line in the school corridors and, chances were, you'd have the next line delivered to you.

I produced this using only my bare wit.
[then, from elsewhere...]
Give me a jungle or garage beat and admit defeat.

Similarly, with not infrequent tenderness, during the song It's Too Late:

We met through a shared view;
She loved me and I did too.

As a whole, the album is not without its faults. It is two or three tracks too long, and it tends to lose its way between the more popular songs. Indeed, a focus or a direction are nowhere to be seen. Those of us who listened to their follow-up, A Grand Don't Come for Free, will know that OPM is weak by comparison, but I agree with the Observer; what OPM brought to British music, a unique gelling of genres, able to bring together grunge and goth, townies and kevs, far outweighs what it lacks in refinement. I relent for those kids, reaching their teenage years, who don't have a voice like The Streets. Where will they turn? The Arctic Monkeys? Perhaps. Snow Patrol? The Killers? Please.