M.G. Boulter. With Wolves The Lamb Will Lie. Harbour Song Records

wolves

Aside from his duties with The Lucky Strikes and his in demand session player status (with Simone Felice and Blue Rose Code among others) M.G. Boulter is the poet laureate of the Thames estuary detailing the (often) sorry dreams and aspirations of those who populate the faded grandeur of Essex’s Southend and Clacton and hymning the meeting of water and land. His 2013 album The Water Or The Wave was a captivating collection of bittersweet songs with a somewhat folkish feel to several of the songs and with lyrics that at times recalled the sardonic strokes of Richard Thompson’s pen. For With Wolves The Lamb Will Lie Boulter has forsaken his estuary for a trip up north to Sheffield where he recorded the album with producer Andy Bell and a fuller backing band including woodwind and strings giving the album a more layered and at times sumptuous sound than its predecessor. Indeed much of the beauty here is in simply letting the arrangements wash over you while Bell has captured the bass and drum sound perfectly offering a solid base for the lilting and lifting guitars that float through the songs.

Boulter’s pedal steel colours the opening songs, both brisk, almost country rock numbers, their breeziness belying the dark lyrics contained within. Opener Sean or Patrick tells of a down and out character seeking refuge in booze and prone to grandiose notions comparing himself to Hemingway while the protagonist of In Sight of The Cellar is resigned to his delivery job, vicariously sharing life from outside bay windows with silent TV flickering but refusing to succumb to despair. This sunny side up musical mask is henceforth abandoned however as the music becomes more introspective and the arrangements more elaborate.

His Name Is Jean features a wonderful string arrangement over a fine woody double bass as Boulter sings of a parent reminiscing with pride regarding the son called Jean. Lyrically reminiscent of Loudon Wainwright there’s an ambiguity here with Jean/Gene’s gender not fully disclosed, nor is the manner of his “moving on” but there’s no doubting the tenderness and fragile beauty of the song. Lalita is a dreamlike trip into Boulter’s own memories, of a girl who followed his band and the murder of an acquaintance although the memories are vague and there’s a sense of regret that we don’t make more effort to know people. The string arrangement here is suffused with sadness, the vibraphone tying the song somewhat to sixties singer songwriters such as Tim Hardin.

There’s another burst of energy on the frantic The Last Song which races along with a fine soaring chorus and some nifty guitar work but the pop baroque keyboard of The Defeatist’s Hymn and rolling percussion amid the mysterious rhythms of Some Day The Waves are the highlights of the latter half of the album. Indeed Some Day The Waves throbs with mystery and slowly reaches its climax in a manner that suggests a weird combination of ESP act Pearls Before Swine and Fairport Convention circa A Sailor’s Life while the lyrics are poetic and again quite mysterious, WB Yeats sunk in ghosts and woods and trees. Nature and visions inform many of the songs. Starlings is a startling piece that is like Red Riding Hood reimagined as a self cutting girl at the mercy of men who prowl while Carmel Oakes is a girl sick of life who offers hope to a hopeless commuter who may be the man at the station referred to in Some Day The Waves.

Despite the grim subject matter Boulter offers glimpses of light. The promise that one day life will get better in Carmel Oakes and the cry to raise your sights and see the sun on Brother Uncles is reinforced on the closing Let Light In where he references the biblical quote the album is named for. It may be reading too much into the album but that’s the sense we get from the words, like Dylan they are open to discussion. However you approach it With Wolves The Lamb Will Lie is a beautiful listen and one that will repay repeated immersion in its wayward and woody intricacies.

website

Harbour Song records

 

Bob Collum & The welfare Mothers. Little Rock. Harbour Song Records

If you’re in Basildon and happen across a chap who looks like an accountant carrying a guitar case then our advice is to follow him and see where he’s playing. Odds are that this suited and bespectacled character is Bob Collum, an Oklahoman who for several years has lived in Essex. Long enough it seems for the sound of South London and the Thames Delta to percolate into his fibre and in particular that mix of country, rock, blues and R’n’B that informed the likes of The Kursaal Flyers, Eddie and The Hotrods, Roogalator and eventually flowered in the mature work of Elvis Costello and Nick Lowe.

Like Roogalator’s Danny Adler Collum has the advantage of actually being an American and one supposes this gives him a bit of a head start when it comes to conjuring up visions of the country in song. In fact Collum states that the album is in some ways a look back at what he remembers of America, an angle that is uppermost in some of the songs. Of these Johnny Held Them Down is the most obvious as Collum goes into Costello and the Attractions angry mode to stamp on the Confederate flag while Locust Grove abandons any attempts to sound Essex bound as Collum delivers an excellent, stark and haunting ballad that recounts a murder that occurred in Tulsa in 1977. Elsewhere there’s a fine acapella introduction to Seven Kinds Of Sorrow before the song swings into country rock territory as practiced by the likes of Poco back in the days, Poco being an apt comparison as the fabulous pedal steel work by Allan Kelly is up there with Rusty Young. Kelly is key to the album’s overall sound with his fat and sweet playing while Marianne Hyatt (another US ex pat) is a fine vocal foil to Collum throughout. It’s a pity that her showcase, Superdome, is slightly overwrought as opposed to the loose freewheelin’ style enjoyed by the rest of the songs. Her duet with Collum on the wonderfully dippy honky tonk duet Good Thing We’re In Love more than makes up for this as her sassy ripostes in the chorus bear comparison with Tammy and Dolly and the more recent efforts of Lou Dalgleish of My Darling Clementine. Like My Darling Clementine’s tales of marital disharmony it’s excellently delivered with a deep twangy solo from Martin Belmont who recently performed a similar role on Hank Wangford’s dissection of country waltzes.

Elsewhere the chunky rhythm section of Paul Quarry and Gareth Davis along with Collum’s gutsy guitar are joined by Peter Holsapple on organ for the sweeping title song while Wasted Wonderland is a fine example of what Danny Adler called “gusha gusha” music, laden with hooks and a fine sinewy backbone as Kelly’s pedal steel punctuates the song throughout, a sound that is captured throughout making this a very fine offering indeed.

website