Until the release of 2001's Sex, Age, & Death, The Happy Club was my favourite Geldof Solo album. It has all kinds of layers to it. It is hilariously funny, beautiful in places, and always articulate. Here, we begin to see the fearlessness of Geldof's more mature solo work emerge. And why shouldn't he be fearless? I mean, he's Saint *#@%ing Bob, right? No one can question his commitment to making the world a better place.

So if he wants to sing a song trying to understand the nasty strains of nationalism and ethnic hatred which have been infecting parts of the former eastern block countries, he's going to do it. If he wants to get silly, he's going to do that too. And he's got a band which can keep up with his restlessness.

The looseness and the sort of Celtic zydeco sound from The Vegetarians of Love are still there in The Happy Club, but augmented by some welcome electric guitars, organs, and saxophones. There are musical and lyrical tips of the hat to Van Morrison, Ray Davies, Bob Dylan, and others (including the Bee Gees). Much of the album is a rollicking, intelligent good time. Occasionally it shifts gears to reflect upon politics, mortality, and the soothing of the soul. Then, before you know what hit you, it's back to the party.

Room 19 kicks things off with a Motown/zydeco romp through a heated telepathic conversation between disembodied brains of famous dead Soviet-era Russians sitting in jars on a shelf in some closed-down lab. What could be better? The words "I feel free" get a whole new meaning.

A Hole to Fill next steals the show with a simple three-chord folk-sounding, semi-satirical exploration of personal emptiness. The abyss has never been so much fun! The second verse will make you laugh out loud. I'm not going to quote it. If you don't know it, you'll have to go get the album and listen for yourself! Harmonica, violin, and accordion take turns soloing, then all three mix it up at the end in a mighty effort to fill the void.

The Song of the Emergent Nationalist buries the vocals deep in the mix in a way that suggests the twisted national ids that emerged in former Yugoslavia  when Soviet-style State control was lifted. It brings to life the deep longings which must be at the heart of such Frankenstein-monsters-of-state. The song is startling, ominous, and draws no neat conclusions.

Attitude Chicken raves things back up again and takes it to a new level, complete with chicken sounds. Geldof has never been so outrageously funny. He sends up political correctness so effectively within the body of the song that the final verse denouncing it outright seems to me to be unnecessary. We got it, Bob. Some of the piano bits sound like they are being pecked out on a concertina by a chicken.

Yeah, Definitely is pure, feel-good depression and sickness. These are long-time Geldof themes, but here, he's having a blast reclaiming them from Morrissey and various Goth-sters. Very catchy acoustic pop.

The House at the Top of the World. A lovely spoken-word piece over evocative new-age acoustic and organ sounds. Probably for the die-hard fans only, but, hey, that's me. The first few times I listened to this, I thought it was just an extended introduction to the next track--because it is an engaging narrative of reminiscence, and The Soft Soil is a powerful meditation on memory and spirit.

The Soft Soil is beautiful, emotional, comforting. Great poetry. Passionate delivery. A real creative tour de force. If you don't know why Geldof is going with the more acoustic and experimental sounds and you don't understand why he doesn't just go back to the sound of The Boomtown Rats, listen to this song. This is why. This is the payoff for the stylistic restlessness. Pure beauty.

A Sex Thing is perhaps the world's first roots/disco song. Diddles and funk. The acoustic instruments add a sensuality which cannot be found in electronic dance music. The sexual lyrics are life-affirming. Great groove. And just rickety enough to suggest real bodies and real emotions--bass and drums for the accelerating and slowing pulse, accordion for the lungs breathing heavily and having air squeezed out of them.

My Hippy Angel is expansive, absurdist, and spiritual. Great vocal performance. Both the EEC and the USSR are mentioned even though they didn't really ever exist simultaneously. Did they? But Bob's hippy angel can transcend time for the sake of rhyme. Good for her! Look, fishies don't have knees, either, if you wanna get technical!

The Happy Club is the  album's title song and it, in a way, states its thesis. I'm going to be happy, OK!? And I'm going to have fun. But I'm going to do it in a way that is interesting to me! Of course, it is told from the point of view of the latest in a series of female stand-ins for the emotional side of the author. And it sounds great. It starts out with a riff that sounds exactly like the Kinks' "Victoria," but then builds something very different and very joyful on top of it.

Like Down on Me is built on an industrial-sounding guitar riff, humming, and beautiful, shambling dada lyrics. I'm a sucker for good dream-imagery anyway, so this one's for me. Yep.

Too Late God seems too flip at first, but is also very honest, self-deprecating, and funny. It is the most "Irish sounding" thing on here, but lyrically, there's nothing traditional about it. It is about the ravages of age upon the figure, the psyche, and the spirit. Mid-life confusion is sent up, but admitted to. He also announces a very--perhaps too--deliberate putting aside of formal spirituality...at least until he turns 70.

The Roads of Germany is openly in the style of "BD," AKA Bob Dylan--but articulate in a way Dylan himself has never been. The lyrics are phantasmagoric like the early, great Dylan songs. But "BG" brings all the ideas back home at the end of the song. The guitar playing is awkward-sounding and absolutely right for the tune. It's that fearlessness again. And the restlessness.

- RS Wayment