At long last, British pop-rock band Bastille officially released their mashup of TLC’s ‘No Scrubs’ and The xx’s ‘Angels’, featuring the powerful vocals of singer-songwriter Ella Eyre. The track had been a fan favourite since it first featured on the band’s 2012 mixtape Other People’s Heartache p.t 2 and will now appear on the special decennial anniversary edition of Bastille’s debut album Bad Blood, which is due on 14th July and aptly named Bad Blood X.
The original track is a work of art. Melding together the catchy lyrics from an RnB classic about a good-for-nothing man with the sombre, stripped-back instrumentals of an indie ballad about unconditional love, Bastille’s extrapolation of its source material into a rich soundscape is nothing short of genius. The orchestral quality of the heartrending strings, the vibey synth, and the exquisite texture of Eyre and Bastille frontman Dan Smith’s vocals overlapped – all these elements which first enthralled listeners over a decade ago remain intact and, indeed, as incredible as ever. However, the decision to remove the sample from Allfred Hitchcock’s 1960 magnum opus ‘Psycho’ has left the newly released track feeling somewhat bare and deprived of an additional layer of artistic exploration and intellectual possibility.
Bastille’s multivalency is one of its most unique, treasured qualities. The band displays a mindblowing ability to revolutionise, to reinterpret, to reimagine. Often the band’s remixes force its listeners to see the original song, narrative, style and message in a completely different light. Often, quotations from film, literature or wider cultural contexts will be incorporated into the lyrics, bringing in alternative dimensions and relevances. Smith has been open about his love for cinema – specifically horror – his “obsession” from early childhood has transformed into a quintessential characteristic of his music-making. The use of samples is especially explorative in Bastille’s more experimental early projects, such as Other People’s Heartache p.t. 2.
The original ‘No Angels’ opens with a dialogue between Norman Bates – the downtrodden, nervous young man entirely under the control of his abusive mother – and Marion Crane – a glamorously beautiful and modernly resourceful guest at the Bates Motel:
NORMAN: No, uh – well, I run the office, and uh, tend the cabins and grounds, and – and do little, uh, errands for my mother – the ones she allows I might be capable of doing.
MARION: Do you go out with friends?
NORMAN: (Pause) Well, uh – a boy’s best friend is his mother.
Norman’s stuttering, uncertain words are full of a certain vulnerability – despite what he does in the film, there is always an air of pathos surrounding this deeply damaged young man who has been turned into a monster by the mother he idolises. TLC’s lyrics about a man who has no independence, no ambition and no future – a “scrub” – take on a new dimension. Smith’s masterstroke is the bridge when every line of TLC’s lyrics is interspersed with a line from Bates. “If you live at home with your mama” is immediately followed up with “We’re all in our private traps”, then “If you have a shawty but you don’t show love” is modified by “We’re clamped in them, and none of us can ever get out” – the message of the song has to be re-evaluated. Bates is more than some lazy loser who lives with his mother. He is a victim and a product of an environment he cannot escape. Equally, the xx’s song about lovesickness takes on new tones when combined with the context of ‘Psycho’. The obsessive, unhealthy undercurrents of unrequited love become glaringly obvious when considered from the lens of Bates and the destructive devotion he has for his mother.
By no means is the newly released version of ‘No Angels’ a failure. It is still, for the most part, the same beautiful reimagination of two classics that gain so much from being married together. However, I can’t help but mourn the gaps where ‘Psycho’ and the delicate, tortured presence of Norman Bates should be, bringing in another kaleidoscopic dimension to the interpretative experience.
Words by Jui Zaveri
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