Clearly someone who’s never subscribed to U2’S assertion that “ambition bites the nails of success”, Lancastrian singer/ songwriter with a difference GLYN BAILEY has been positively revelling in his glorious obscurity for years. In the press release for his third LP ‘The Disturbance’, he celebrates his under the radar stance, stating “some seek obscurity; others have it thrust upon them.”
The sad fact of the matter is that he’s probably right. While I’m loathe to admit it, the terminally ailing music industry has long since turned its’ back on smart, cerebral thorns in the side like Bailey. Critics can man the rooftops and shout of his merits until the cows troop on home, but in the 2011 scheme of things they probably won’t get him a sniff of a record deal, never mind help him sell decent amounts of records.
Thankfully, Bailey has no problem swallowing this unfairly bitter pill and going his own sweet way regardless. For this, I’m truly thankful, for his new album is his third great record in a row, following on from 2005’s ‘Toys from Balsa’ and 2007’s ‘Songs from the Old Illawalla.’ Hearteningly, Bailey has gained a full (and pretty virtuosic) band, The Many Splendid Things, since his last outing, although there’s continuity of sorts as lead guitarist Phil Senior was also instrumental in bringing ‘Songs from the Old Illawalla’ to fruition.
‘...Illawalla’ was flush with songs about everything from the 2006 World Cup to paedophile clowns and the dubious wisdom of attending school reunions, but Bailey’s clearly not lost his touch or his splendidly skewhiff take on the madness of the world around him over the past three years. This time, the subject matter takes in Marc Bolan’s final mini ride, the unintentionally negative influences your family thrust upon you and (I think) Louis Walsh, but whatever the vignette, it’s always thought-provoking and vividly realized.
While ‘The Disturbance’ is primarily an Indie-going-on-Rock record, its sonic palette is refreshingly broad. Opening track ‘The Old Illawalla’ references his previous album, but it’s surprisingly atmospheric and hard-rocking and could almost be early Faith No More if you squint hard enough. The lyrics present an intriguing slant on the old Blues man’s pact with the devil at the crossroads (“Satan came and we made a trade/ my mortal soul for wealth and fame”) while what sounds like an order of Gregorian Monks drop by to add backing vocals.
|
Elsewhere, songs like ‘Louis’ and the urgent parental advice commentary ‘Fuktup’ (sic) also rock pretty hard, while the feedback and dissonance only serve to ramp up the tale of an isolated loon with kidnap, terror and the apocalypse in mind (“when it all kicks off, I’ll be listening to God and the BBC”) on the evocative ‘BBC Bunker’.
Tracks like ‘Beautiful Corpse’, the XTC-ish ‘God for the Day’ and ‘The Bolan Tree’ are superficially more standard Indie guitar fare, though the latter’s bizarre take on Marc Bolan’s tragic final taxi to Barnes Common (“we’ll meet less than a mile from home/ waiting is a casket dressed with pure white swan”) exists in a macabre, but graceful place that’s very much of its’ own design. It’s creepy stuff, but not half as goose-pimple inducing as the clammy and voyeuristic ‘Waiting Game’ which supplies a finale almost as unwholesome as ‘Home Again’ did on The Auteurs’ debut album ‘New Wave’.
Ultimately, ‘The Disturbance’ probably won’t even throw a brick through a window, never mind start a riot commercially, but that doesn’t alter the fact it’s a really good record. If you like your mavericks on the erudite side, you should give Glyn Bailey a chance. He makes languishing in obscurity sound pretty damn vital to these ears.
Glyn Bailey website
Glyn Bailey on Myspace
|
