The Cranberries: Everybody Else Is Doing It, So Why Can’t We?
Translated from Spanish by
The Cranberries were founded in May 1990, and after publishing an EP call “Uncertain”, they released their first album “Everybody Else Is Doing It, So Why Can’t We?” in 1993.
Their debut album has sold over 8 million copies worldwide, although it hasn’t sold 17 million copies as “No Need To Argue”, we can say that album sold well because of the first album.
The beginnings are never easy, but The Cranberries are the exception. When the album is released, people is indifferent to it, but its release in United States a year later, companied by a successful tour, makes a re edition of the album, and then it got the first place in UK album charts. The album in that year had long life, with songs like “Linger”, full of brilliant arrangements, “Dreams”, a positive song that mix the power and melody tension, and “Pretty”.
The guitarist Noel Hogan co wrote all songs, except three of them, with Dolores O’riordan, showing a wonderful talent when they played the songs.
O’riordan wrote songs full of romantic reflections, and she made clearer that she has a voice that many Opera performers would like to have.
The Cranberries surprised everyone in the world of music since the beginning, because they navigated against the fluid of Grunge, Hip Hop and House genres, music that used to conquer the first places in rankings on the entire world. The recipe: sounds of guitars from Rock Indie and Post Punk influences, some elements from Celtic music, and a powerful and touching voice.
The Cranberries: Everybody Else Is Doing It, So Why Can’t We?
What The Cranberries made and got during the 90’s begins was not common, especially with their albums names. When Grunge and G – Funk were very famous (Nirvana, Dr. Dre), with “Everybody…”, Cranberries got number one spot in the England charts, a some time later they got more success in United States.
Guitarist Noel Hogan, who was the band’s center in that time, co-wrote all the songs, except 3, with Dolores O’Riordan, showing a nice “economy” when they played, which with Stephen Street’s production got a big projection and some delicate waves of quiet rhythms.
O’Riordan offers us lyrics full of romantic reflections, and she made very clear that she has a vocal ability that many opera performers want to have.
The best 2 songs from the album, that got a lot of success, are “Dreams”, a strong song that mix the melody tension with excellent rock moments, and the melancholic “Linger”, full of really impressive chords arrangements.
Listening to “Everybody…” is a real pleasure to ears, showing an excellent voice of O’Riordan, and the work of a young band creating a beautiful synthesis of sounds.
Source: Unknown (maybe it’s Melody Maker)
Author Jennifer Nine
GRADUAL pleasure, this one. Not because it takes long to sidle beneath your skin, because it doesn’t. But it spreads like a slow smile on the face of the one you love.
Personally I think it has a lot to do with the letter “r”. Coming from a country where this consonant is pronounced properly, I’ve a certain sympathy for the Irish, who do it too. Dolores O’Riordan knows, among other things, how to use her ‘rrrr’s, and it’s a jumping-off point to understanding the lovely undentimentality of her voice, and it’s curling, brisk, quiet touch.
Take “Linger”, for example, though not my copy. It’s got lots of “r”s, and you hear them loud and clear though the Jimmy Webb-colored strings and all the other gentle sounds (guitar, always the pristine guitar) that producer Stephen Street sifts our with a careful, even hand. And maybe it’s because of those sharp corners that, help up against The Sundays (to whom they will always be compared, for the pos-Smiths atmospherics as much as for the girl singer/dreamy guitar pop configuration), The Cranberries sound infinitely less cultivated. In the sense of picket fences, tidiness, and prim preciosity, that is.
You’d be hard-pressed to find a point on this record where loud, angsty bits underscore The Cranberries’ proud intentions. Although at points, it’s true, the drums thud with a blood-pulsing command (“Wanted”, “Still Can’t”) that does the work of any screaming riffs you’d care to name. Or, on “Pretty”, which does everything but ape its title in the way you’d expect, the whiff of a New Order-ish melancholy bass line tugs at the memory banks.
If there’s a lyrical agenda for this record, and I don’t doubt that there is, The Cranberries make it shimmer and dance just outside the reach of our ears. It might well be about the gulf between the short names we give things – regret, defiance, love and no-longer-love-and the shifting, exclusive truth of what they become. Each time Dolores sins “I don’t want to leave you / Even though I had to / I don’t want to live you / Even though I still do”, (“I Still Do”) each repetition offers greater, sadder little truths. Or, on “Dreams”, whose buoyant dynamics are as exhilarating as watching a horse’s legs gather into a gallop, she exclaims “It’s never quite as it seems / Cos you’re a dream to me,” with such evident, painspoken delight that it makes more comparison.
Life many small things, Dolores’ voice is neither as simple nor as frail as it seems, and there’s a world of headstrong energy inside it. It’s in the weird ululations that conclude “Dreads”, verging close to the unearthly; it’s there, too, in the brittle bones of “Waltzing Back”, in which she gulps, “Who gave them the right?” over and over, as thirsty for justice as for air. The bleakly gorgeous, piano-haunted “Not Sorry” shows she could easily be Mary Margaret O’Haza, or Sinead, if she liked. And in contrast, and with equal ease, she makes “I Will Always” a dreamy amble, and the album-closing “Put Me Down” all effortless meringue-clouds and sun showers.
Countless times, while listening to this record, I’m on the verge of recognizing some favorite, forgotten song, something sad or comforting. But I can’t seem to pin any of them down, as hard as I think around the dusty corners of my record collection. I think, in fact, it’s simply the sound of this record, already all the way though to my bones.