Thank goodness the quarrels in international pop don’t usually make it into the pages of glossy magazines. Otherwise, the resounding slam of the door that Daryl Franklin Hohl and John William Oates have dedicated to each other would have overshadowed the separation between the footballer Álvaro Morata and the influencer Alice Campello or any other of the summer soap operas that have enlivened the beach chats of recent weeks. The tandem that the American record association certified in 1984 as the most successful musical couple of all time, the duo that until 2022 shared stages on successive tours and that has placed more than 80 million copies of their albums in homes around the world, has not only split between accusations of shady financial maneuvers and reciprocal expressions of “Olympian disdain”, as the song would say. It has also extended its very loud (and talked about) version of the Cold War to the shelves of stores and the search engines of online platforms. streaming.
Don’t miss it. John Oates has released his sixth solo album, paradoxically titled Meetingjust four weeks before Daryl Hall did the same with his sixth LP, a work with a very brief title: D. Pure coincidence? Let everyone think what they like, but Oates had not done any work on her own for six years and Hall had not signed anything in his own name since the LP. Laughing Down Cryingwhich dates back to… 2011. What a coincidence. Hostilities broke out last year with a crudeness and virulence that no one would have imagined in a duo that shared half a dozen number 1s on the American charts and up to 16 songs in the top 10 of the rankings. But neither the lyrics nor the harmony have a chance of prevailing against the damned money, and the blond Hall (now graying) exploded against the dark-haired Oates (who trimmed his moustache with his goatee) when he found out that he had tried to sell on his own to an investment fund the part that corresponds to him in Whole Oats Enterprises, their joint rights company. The disagreements have not only been brought to court, but have even resulted in a restraining order.
Hall follows a style faithful to that of the group, while Oates opts for a more introspective and folk album.
The creators of such colossal hits as ‘Maneater’, ‘Rich Girl’, ‘I Can’t Go for That’, ‘Sara Smile’, ‘Out of Touch’, ‘You Make My Dreams’ and ‘Kiss on My List’ had their golden age more than four decades ago, but they had not stopped frequenting the stage and in 2014 they were included in the Hall of Fame, the honorary blessing par excellence in the United States. On the occasion of the publication of D, however, Hall used the most disdainful of his records to refer to his now ex-partner in Billboard, the bible of the music industry. “All my life I have been a solo artist, regardless of the fact that I worked with, mostly, John,” he said before confessing to being “liberated.” He also acknowledged that he had not spoken to Oates for “a long, long time” and that their last collaboration with pencil and paper in hand dates back “to the year 2000, and there was someone else.”
It seems obvious, in short, that there are no shared dreams to materialise nor kisses to add to the veteran duo’s respective lists: Oates is 76 years old and Hall will be 78 in October. But fans can now enjoy, in compensation, the subtle and unusual creative rivalry that has arisen between the two. Because D and Reunion are works of extremely different, but complementary, sensibilities. And in which their protagonists, although enjoying their sudden artistic bachelorhood, have sought out new circumstantial partners. Daryl gives a very large role as producer to his good friend Dave Stewart, once half of Eurythmics, and this summer he has also embarked on a joint tour with Elvis Costello, a surprising alliance even though the blond from Philadelphia did the second vocals on an old, beautiful and not very remembered song by the bespectacled Liverpool man, ‘The Only Flame in Town’. For his part, John occasionally partners in composition with AJ Croce, son of the late Jim Croce (of ‘Time in a Bottle’ and ‘Bad, Bad Leroy Brown’) and an author less (re)known than he deserves.
All the bridges between the members of that fertile and prodigious tandem have been blown up, so it seems that Hall has made an effort to strengthen his position as the main voice and signer of the extinct couple. D brings a repertoire of calm and identifiable familiarity from the first handful of bars, with an absolute preference for that Philly Soul The sweet and mellow song from the seventies (‘Break It Down to the Real Thing’) that Hall elevated on dozens of occasions to a hallmark. His former ally, however, opts for a much more intimate and acoustic profile, a beautiful and self-absorbed songbook country folk which places its geographical and sentimental coordinates much closer to Nashville than to Philadelphia. And which found the spark of inspiration in the recent 100th birthday of Oates’ father, a day that the old man took advantage of to talk to his son about his imminent “reunion” with his deceased wife. Those nostalgic for H&O will find in D a pleasant and familiar substitute, a trompe l’oeil that reproduces in ‘Can’t Say no to You’ or ‘The Whole World’s Better’ those simple and effective songs that launched themselves headlong into the chorus. But those who do not intend to relive times that are already completely unrepeatable will take with them Meeting the very pleasant surprise of a creator often overshadowed by that partner who today only offers him his disappointment.
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