26 February 2000
Our previous number one, Gabrielle’s ‘Rise’, featured the sort of inspirational content now more associated with social media. We’ve seen a similar shift to Instagram with this number one’s theme of literal travel as metaphorical journey of ‘authentic’ spiritual self-realisation. Alex Garland’s The Beach, visualised by Danny Boyle’s film adaptation, was a massive pop-culture hit at the turn of the millennium. I have the feeling that The Beach’s potent image of young Western tourists ‘discovering’ a secluded, secret paradise just off the traditional south-east Asian backpack trail is the social media travel-brag’s creation myth. Not that these places were ever secret or undiscovered for the locals, of course, but maybe The Beach is an artefact of the pre-Internet world; is there anywhere now on Earth that hasn’t been visited, reviewed and selfied online? Think about that next time you’re on a dating app and swiping left-right-left on the same countless pictures of Machu Picchu and the sign at the top of Kilimanjaro.
Anyway, ‘Pure Shores’, from the film soundtrack, is all I have consumed of The Beach’s universe. (I haven’t read the novel because at the height of its fame I was busy studying other novels. I haven’t seen the film because the reviews weren’t good. Now read on.) The swoosh and flutter of its ambient electronic chillscapes, courtesy of collaboration with William Orbit, are certainly easy on the ear. Unfortunately, below those pleasant sonic layers there isn’t a song of great substance. Its verses, such that you can hear under the washes of synth and reverb, are all woolly cliche about “searching places to find / A piece of something to call mine”. Its chorus isn’t catchy, just insistent. Its topline melody isn’t memorable or even noticeable. Much like looking at someone else’s holiday photos, ‘Pure Shores’ initially piques your curiosity but soon gets tiresome.
