FogBlueInSanFran
Well-Known Member
I know this is going to read like I hate this, and it's true I didn't like it that much, but I admit it grew on me as I listened. The way to put it is . . . I didn't so much dislike this record in execution as I do the idea of this record.
Somewhat like Leonard Cohen, and unlike Lou Reed (who regularly observes OUTSIDE himself -- a critical distinction), we once again have depressive, emotive poetry at the centerpiece, with the music sometimes an afterthought (again, unlike Lou Reed, who's better at writing hooks). At least it's often about love and not about whatever the hell Cohen's subjects are.
Once again, we have complaints from some of you about the voice. It doesn't bother me in the least. The voice doesn't matter, to the listeners who love the artist, nor to the artist, nor should it. It fact it's just more evidence that this is often a poetry reading, and when I'm in a a cynical and chippy mood, it's music instead of poetry because music might sell and poetry doesn't.
Dark moods not periodically offset with humo(u)r nor cynicism nor sarcasm nor anger (save for one tune) may be the symptom of a disease (depression) to which this artist tragically succumbed, but that doesn't resonate with me emotionally, unless he can express pain I can identify with. Normally he doesn't, in part because he offers little empathy to anyone else in these songs either -- "Good Day To Die" is an especially egregious example of this. Contrast this with our very first record. John Cougar Mellencamp is regularly putting himself in the shoes of others, which is an appealing idea even if the idea doesn't always come off. At least Gavin Clark doesn't try to fake being someone else, unlike Billy "I'm A Garage Mechanic Who's Fucking Christie Brinkley" Joel.
All this means I just find this self-involved too often. What's sad is it doesn't sound like the music is cathartic even for him. Listen to Foo Fighters' "The Colour and The Shape" -- it's the story of longing and an ultimately broken relationship, but in the end Dave Grohl finds a "New Way Home." There's redemption. I just don't find Gavin Clark's struggles sympathetic nor edifying -- but admittedly his tale is one of no peace, just pain. It's tragic. But even in tragedy there's an arc, and there isn't one here. His songs are JUST sad (mostly), and I'm never THAT sad.
Anyway I'd rather listen to something beautiful when I'm truly down in the dumps, and to me this record isn't beautiful that often. "Lips" -- which at least sort of leans in the direction of a heart laid bare with some hope for a future -- is the closest this comes. "Hard Sun" is pretty too, musically, but the lyrics just drag me back to a man with whose pain I struggle to identify.
Ok, that's all the bad stuff about the "idea" of the record. Let's go back to the music, which is sometimes pedestrian, but which definitely also has its moments -- in fact, on my third listen, it suddenly hit me, there are a number of tunes to like. Of the quiet ones, I liked "Crazy on the Weekend" okay, but we do thankfully have a backing band once in awhile, and on "Chasing The Dream", it gives a tune a real lift, and on "Spinning Around The Sun", the what-I-think-is-a-squeezebox offers a bit of differentiation. I can see why "Monkey Dead" was the single -- there's a strong Robert Cray vibe here and this feels like a song -- and a really good one -- not a moan. "Loud Crowd" allows a little (okay . . . a LOT of) Pink Floyd to seep in, and I that was another one of my favo(u)rites here, in part because it doesn't really seem to belong.
I duly took a sharp intake of breath when I saw "Animal" was 7+ minutes long, and unfortunately Spotify doesn't have the lyrics to this one tracking the song -- but I got enough out of it to recognize the struggle between two sides of the artist, or maybe three sides, with the Stone Rose-y section interplaying with the crunchy rock and roll interplaying with the murky sad parts. Not really for me, but I liked the attempt to break free from the rest of the record the song evidenced.
So what to make of this? Normally multi-tempo-ed records appeal to me, and here I hear some (but not enough) music that grabs me. Single-theme records don't appeal, and the lyrics here clearly don't. Yes, there is something noble about pouring such sadness into the world, and while I don't know what exactly is torturing this man, torture is awful nonetheless.
I want to give it between a 4 and a 5. I'll go 5, because City has Erling Haaland. See? Something to smile about.
Somewhat like Leonard Cohen, and unlike Lou Reed (who regularly observes OUTSIDE himself -- a critical distinction), we once again have depressive, emotive poetry at the centerpiece, with the music sometimes an afterthought (again, unlike Lou Reed, who's better at writing hooks). At least it's often about love and not about whatever the hell Cohen's subjects are.
Once again, we have complaints from some of you about the voice. It doesn't bother me in the least. The voice doesn't matter, to the listeners who love the artist, nor to the artist, nor should it. It fact it's just more evidence that this is often a poetry reading, and when I'm in a a cynical and chippy mood, it's music instead of poetry because music might sell and poetry doesn't.
Dark moods not periodically offset with humo(u)r nor cynicism nor sarcasm nor anger (save for one tune) may be the symptom of a disease (depression) to which this artist tragically succumbed, but that doesn't resonate with me emotionally, unless he can express pain I can identify with. Normally he doesn't, in part because he offers little empathy to anyone else in these songs either -- "Good Day To Die" is an especially egregious example of this. Contrast this with our very first record. John Cougar Mellencamp is regularly putting himself in the shoes of others, which is an appealing idea even if the idea doesn't always come off. At least Gavin Clark doesn't try to fake being someone else, unlike Billy "I'm A Garage Mechanic Who's Fucking Christie Brinkley" Joel.
All this means I just find this self-involved too often. What's sad is it doesn't sound like the music is cathartic even for him. Listen to Foo Fighters' "The Colour and The Shape" -- it's the story of longing and an ultimately broken relationship, but in the end Dave Grohl finds a "New Way Home." There's redemption. I just don't find Gavin Clark's struggles sympathetic nor edifying -- but admittedly his tale is one of no peace, just pain. It's tragic. But even in tragedy there's an arc, and there isn't one here. His songs are JUST sad (mostly), and I'm never THAT sad.
Anyway I'd rather listen to something beautiful when I'm truly down in the dumps, and to me this record isn't beautiful that often. "Lips" -- which at least sort of leans in the direction of a heart laid bare with some hope for a future -- is the closest this comes. "Hard Sun" is pretty too, musically, but the lyrics just drag me back to a man with whose pain I struggle to identify.
Ok, that's all the bad stuff about the "idea" of the record. Let's go back to the music, which is sometimes pedestrian, but which definitely also has its moments -- in fact, on my third listen, it suddenly hit me, there are a number of tunes to like. Of the quiet ones, I liked "Crazy on the Weekend" okay, but we do thankfully have a backing band once in awhile, and on "Chasing The Dream", it gives a tune a real lift, and on "Spinning Around The Sun", the what-I-think-is-a-squeezebox offers a bit of differentiation. I can see why "Monkey Dead" was the single -- there's a strong Robert Cray vibe here and this feels like a song -- and a really good one -- not a moan. "Loud Crowd" allows a little (okay . . . a LOT of) Pink Floyd to seep in, and I that was another one of my favo(u)rites here, in part because it doesn't really seem to belong.
I duly took a sharp intake of breath when I saw "Animal" was 7+ minutes long, and unfortunately Spotify doesn't have the lyrics to this one tracking the song -- but I got enough out of it to recognize the struggle between two sides of the artist, or maybe three sides, with the Stone Rose-y section interplaying with the crunchy rock and roll interplaying with the murky sad parts. Not really for me, but I liked the attempt to break free from the rest of the record the song evidenced.
So what to make of this? Normally multi-tempo-ed records appeal to me, and here I hear some (but not enough) music that grabs me. Single-theme records don't appeal, and the lyrics here clearly don't. Yes, there is something noble about pouring such sadness into the world, and while I don't know what exactly is torturing this man, torture is awful nonetheless.
I want to give it between a 4 and a 5. I'll go 5, because City has Erling Haaland. See? Something to smile about.
Last edited: