Pop Solid as a Rock

CHUCK PROPHET
Underworld London

In 1989 Chuck Prophet was the snake hipped, guitar slinging foil to Dan Stuart's punch-drunk sheriff in American rock'n'rollers Green On Red. Ten years on Prophet pursues a fitful solo career to the delight of a religiously devoted few. Now 35, he betrays the lived in stolidity of an Arsenal defender, but fortunately he remembers
what his two hands are for. And he still knows how to frame a well-oiled riff.

"Here's another mean spirited ditty that might come back to haunt a guy", he beams. The song is Credit, the sort of dipso hard-luck tale Prophet can apparently turn out at will, and his playing imparts thesame outrage the protagonist felt when his little gold card ("as gold
and thin as Kate Moss") was snipped before his eyes.

Prophet doesn't so much play the guitar as grapple with it, And the combined effort singing at the same time prompts spumes of drool to issue forth and soak into a black shirt rather too tightly buttoned for comfort.

His efforts are buttressed with marvelous empathy by a band
comfortable right across the spectrum of urban white soul.
Keyboardist Stephanie Finch braves a mouth to mouth duet on Tune Of An Evening, a heartbreaking country lament updated from Prophet's 1990 solo debut Brother Aldo, while pedal steel and electro-mandolin chores are all in an evenings' work for Max Butler, who as a member
of desert symphonists' Calexico knows the real deal when he sees and hears it.

In a perfect world, Chuck Prophet would be inducted into the Rock'n'Roll Hall of Fame tomorrow.

KEITH CAMERON