Despite Cale’s technique and appropriation of elements and technologies others his age would baulk at, it is hard not to dismiss the fear that his contemporary work is an endeavour of graft in the face of critical senility. Extra Playful is an exercise in nominative determinism, a claw-back from the Prince-meets-noirish-pretensions of his last studio album blackAcetate. Has John Cale lightened up? I doubt it, but he has lain off the kaossilator and gamelan slightly; there is even scant viola. Instead, Extra Playful has mixed more standard rock musicianship with a subversive underbelly of experimentation that leads into an improbably Balearic finale. But what might be a more accessible offering may not be better to the average Cale fan, and the value of this EP is dubious.
The opening two tracks are two of the most outwardly welcoming songs John Cale has made since 1985s Artificial Intelligence. This is not representative of their quality though. ‘Catastrofuk’ is pretty much alternative rock for grumpy old men in leather trousers, screaming mid-life crisis. It has moments that are sonically ear-catching, but is mostly a bit shit. He claws back some credibility – as if John Cale could lose credibility; he could even record with an ageing, bereft of ideas Metallica … er… - on ‘Whaddya Mean By That’, opening with the drones Cale is so adept at constructing. Nonetheless a long-term criticism of Cale arises - the lyrical clumsiness that sometimes infiltrates even the best Cale songs ekes out: "Feels like dancing on the head of a pin, watching and waiting for you to begin." This line is redeemed by his opulent South Wales baritone. Still any redemption is sullied as the chorus can be summed up in two words: Lightning Seeds.
‘Hey Ray’ indulges Cale’s pretentions, not the good harmonically rich beguiling soundscapes, but the threadbare street-crawling dirty old man trope. He relives his past and cold war fear to little effect. Why John Cale would bother doing this is beyond me. ‘Pile a L’heure’ is the type of Balearic junk that would suit track 21 on an Ibiza chill-out 2003 album. Ironically the album finishes with a song called ‘Perfection’. In fairness it is possibly the best song on the EP, but it is more in style of a song from blackAcetate without the irritating falsetto, and a Bowie song from Scary Monsters. It should nonetheless be filler knowing what Cale was/is capable of. He has been ambitious with this EP, but that is to be expected. I am admittedly a huge fan of his, but I would prefer to remember his work as a composer, producer and arranger than a pop or rock song writer. Cale’s musical intelligence and creativity are undoubted, but wasted on songs that are below him.