FEATURE:
Second Spin
No Doubt – Tragic Kingdom
___________
I have been a huge admirer….
of No Doubt for years now, and I think the first album of theirs I really connected to was their third, Tragic Kingdom, in 1995. That album turned twenty-five last week and the band - Gwen Stefani – vocals, Tom Dumont – guitar, Tony Kanal – bass, Adrian Young – drums, percussion, and Eric Stefani – piano, keyboards – are incredible throughout. It was, sadly, the final album to feature keyboardist Eric Stefani, who left the band in 1994. There are a couple of reasons why I am putting Tragic Kingdom in this feature. For one, it is still underrated. I am going to bring in a couple of positive reviews later, but many were a bit unsure of the album and only really liked it for the huge single, Don’t Speak. Maybe there was that pressure for every song to hit that high peak but, that said, seven singles were released from the album between 1993 and 1995 – including another major hit, Just a Girl. By combining some Ska, Punk, Pop and Rock together, Tragic Kingdom is a very broad album and one that explores various territories. There are horns on a few songs, some incredible twists and turns and more than enough gold to keep even a casual listener hooked. I also want to feature Tragic Kingdom, because it is a really solid, satisfying and rewarding listen! This was the first album where Gwen Stefani led with the lyric writing, and I think many were not sure regarding the shift on tone and sound.
I opinion this is No Doubt’s most personal, affecting and best album, and I really like Stefani’s lyrical voice and how much of herself she puts into the music. Her vocals are incredible throughout, and the rest of the band are committed and at the top of their game – no sense of disharmony or like the band were moving apart. It is a shame that Eric Stefani was soon to depart, but one looks back on Tragic Kingdom twenty-five years after its release and marvels! I am disappointed there were mixed reviews because, alongside the big singles I just named, we have the brilliant opener, Spiderwebs, alongside Happy Now?, and Sunday Morning. I think there is something interesting in each of the fourteen songs, and there are only a couple of numbers on the album where Gwen Stefani does not write – including the album’s title track at the end. Tragic Kingdom is a wonderful album, and I think it is one of the best of the 1990s. In their review, this is what AllMusic had to say:
“Led by the infectious, pseudo-new wave single "Just a Girl," No Doubt's major-label debut, Tragic Kingdom, straddles the line between '90s punk, third-wave ska, and pop sensibility. The record was produced by Matthew Wilder, the auteur behind "Break My Stride" -- a clever mainstream co-opting of new wave quirkiness, and, as such, an ideal pairing. Wilder kept his production lean and accessible, accentuating No Doubt's appealing mix of new wave melodicism, post-grunge rock, and West Coast sunshine.
Even though the band isn't always able to fuse its edgy energy with pop melodies, the combination worked far better than anyone could have hoped. When everything does click, the record is pure fun, even if some of the album makes you wish they could sustain that energy throughout the record. Tragic Kingdom might not have made much of an impact upon its initial release in late 1995, but throughout 1996 "Just a Girl" and "Spiderwebs" positively ruled the airwaves, both alternative and mainstream, and in 1997 No Doubt cemented their cross-generational appeal with the ballad hit "Don't Speak".
One cannot fault the success of Tragic Kingdom. The album eventually peaked at number-one in December 1996 with 229,000 copies sold, spending nine non-consecutive weeks atop the chart. It was listed second on the 1997 Billboard 200 year-end chart (behind the Spice Girls' Spice). The fact Tragic Kingdom enjoyed such success and was still making waves so long after its release shows what a great album it is! The band celebrated twenty-five years of Tragic Kingdom last weekend. As Billboard report, Gwen Stefani reminisced fondly:
“On her own Instagram account, Stefani shared another old No Doubt snapshot and simply wrote, "thanks for 25 years."
"We had no idea what was going to happen when we were writing these songs," Kanal wrote on his post about the group's classic album. "Through all of the fun and challenging times, we were just a group of friends on a mission to express ourselves musically. Sometimes It felt like it was us against the world but our love for our band got us through it all."
"Every part of this album was real as f---," he said. "The writing, the recording, the touring, the shows, doing press. All filled with joy, rawness, discovery, excitement, heartache, exhaustion, gratification and beauty. No amount of time that passes will diminish the things we accomplished and experienced together.
"To everyone that embraced Tragic Kingdom and made it a part of their lives, you have my never ending appreciation and gratitude. You guys are incredible. You gave us the fuel to continue creating, keep playing, write more songs and release more albums. Happy 25th Tragic Kingdom to us all," he said to their fans”.
As I said, there were some negative or mixed reviews. I think this one from Entertainment Weekly is one of the more galling and dismissive:
“All of which is business as usual, except that female rock stars like Gwen Stefani aren’t supposed to exist anymore. In our newly progressive times, women play electric guitars and openly spew their feelings. Girls with guitars are so prevalent, in fact, that hearing one on the radio or seeing a woman-led band in a video is no longer startling — which, in itself, is progress. The ”angry woman” variation on this trend has been validated by the petulant whinings of Alanis Morissette and has led to the marketing of any number of disparate singer-songwriters — Tracy Bonham, Patti Rothberg, the Beth Hart Band — as her successor.
The rub is a major one — namely, few are buying any of those albums (except, of course, Morissette’s), and they are buying No Doubt’s. Is it because most of the Alanis-ettes haven’t made memorable music, or could it be that, as anti-progressive as it sounds, the general public still wants its female rockers to look and act like stars? With her pouty voice and glamour-girl looks, Stefani is more than happy to play the starlet. Her voice verging on a girlish hiccup, she can write mewling lines like ”I’m waiting for him to rescue me” (from ”Excuse Me Mr.”) that are worthy of the rescue-me blankness of Mariah Carey’s entire repertoire”.
Luckily, fans and many critics love the album, but I don’t think it is played as much as it should be! I really admire the album and, before finishing with a great recent article that marked twenty-five years of a classic, I want to source from Pitchfork’s review of Tragic Kingdom from March:
“Gwen’s Tragic Kingdom-era pain was incandescent because it felt off the cuff, uninhibited, and barely removed from its cause. You saw that up close in “Don’t Speak,” the breakup ballad that pushed No Doubt’s success over the edge, topping the Billboard airplay chart for 16 weeks. Starting in late 1996 and continuing for much of 1997, flutters of Spanish guitar and angelic whispers of “hush hush, darling” were inescapable; for those listening across radio formats or watching MTV at the time, the song’s ubiquity reached “if I hear this one more time…” levels. But people also could not look away from the saga of Gwen and Tony, SoCal ska’s Stevie and Lindsey. Every night they’d hit the stage and seemingly be forced to relive their split through “Don’t Speak,” a song musically at odds with nearly everything in their upbeat catalog.
Not every song on Tragic Kingdom is overtly about the breakup or the frustrations of girlhood—this is ’90s California ska, after all, a few mostly positive chillers are required. But the album tracks skew cheesy, especially now. Ska bands of the era would sometimes show off their funk chops with a disco cut on their LPs, but No Doubt’s take, “You Can Do It,” is plagued by fake disco strings and a guitar jangle that borders on musical clip art. “Different People,” a brass-and-keyboard-led ska track about how the world is big and diverse, has the tension of a child’s picture book, and the depth of one too. Eric’s musical-theater-strikes-back closer “Tragic Kingdom” is cringeworthy in highly specific ways: the sampling of theme-park announcements, the egregiously drawn-out tempo changes, the fact that it seems to be about how evil Walt Disney is. (Besides, on an album like this, the most tragic of kingdoms is actually Gwen and Tony’s love story, not the suburbia surrounding Mickey’s castle.)”.
No Doubt followed Tragic Kingdom with Return of Saturn of 2000 – and album that differed from Tragic Kingdom but won some great reviews -, but I think their peek was in 1995. It would not be long until Gwen Stefani stood out alone and became one of the leading female Rock stars of the 1990s (she released her debut solo album, Love. Angel. Music. Baby., in 2004).
I just want to finish off by bringing in some words from a udiscovermusic feature that discussed Tragic Kingdom’s themes and how, though some defined it by its singles, it is such a rich album that cannot be ignored:
“Despite its sunny veneer, Tragic Kingdom is widely acknowledged as a breakup album – not just of romantic relationships. During the making of Tragic Kingdom, Gwen’s brother and bandmate Eric Stefani left the group to become an animator on The Simpsons, while her boyfriend and bandmate Tony Kanal also ended their eight-year relationship, leading to the jilted-lover’s pop anthem, “Don’t Speak.” On a scale of One to Fleetwood Mac, the band’s internal dynamics lay somewhere in the middle, but heartbreak is a powerful motivator, and is responsible for the most affecting tracks on the album, from “Happy Now” to “Sunday Morning” and “End It On This.”
Tragic Kingdom is not merely just the sum of a few singles, it also contains some unexpected surprises. While everyone with a pulse knows “Don’t Speak,” not everyone remembers the underrated ballad “The Climb.” With its bluesy opening and theme of self-reliance, it’s one of Eric Stefani’s lasting contributions to the album. There’s even some disco-funk courtesy of the slapping bassline of “You Can Do It.” Another surprising sonic moment comes at the end, the title track being an operatic ska song with more drama than an 80s musical soundtrack and an unexpected shredding guitar solo courtesy of former heavy metal guitarist Tom Dumont. Even as Tragic Kingdom progresses, No Doubt never lose their pep, finding a wonderful crescendo on the foot-stomping “Sunday Morning,” complete with Motown-esque “whoa whoas”.
Twenty-five years after its release, I think Tragic Kingdom warrants new praise and attention. I do not hear many of the songs on the radio; perhaps you’ll get Don’t Speak on there, but a lot of the songs never really get an outing. It is a phenomenal album from the Californian band and one that still sounds fresh and surprising today. The 1990s produced more than its fair share of immense albums, but I think No Doubt’s Tragic Kingdom stands out…
IN a competitive and incredibly strong decade.