Producer, songwriter, singer, engineer, and quizmaster of this parish, ROB PETERS has released his first solo album in 15 years, albeit greatly aided and abetted by Dermot ‘Dog’ Walker on electric guitars, the tracks recorded over recent years in an assortment of studios. Titled The Moon That Thought It Was The Sun (Wafer Thin), it bears his familiar Lennon influences, opening with the echoey strum of When We Fall harking to late 60s progressive folk and from whence the title comes and a song about perhaps how limitations or circumstances prevent us achieving our aspirations (“The moon that thought it was the sun/So wanted to shine on everyone/But it was so dark it could not dee far/and lost its way amongst the stars”).
Alive, one of my favourite tracks, is another strum, slower, here with a slight waltztime melody, a reflective, plaintively sung love song about standing by him despite his screw ups (“punctured by idiocy I fall down again … all that I’ve promised you will be there in time… all that we sacrificed will haunt us for the rest of our lives/But you and your persistence has kept us alive”).
The musical mood shifts to take in medieval colours for another stand out, the 6os (and, slightly Bowie) psychedelic folk shaded Madam Misery, an old Peters and Dog number guessingly about bullying those who are different or with mental health issues (“mercurial and agile, they took the piss when he was fragile”), with its woodwind simulating keyboard notes and catchy chorus. A shuffling jazzy blues groove underpins Suse Loves Cooking, a relationship in crisis number (“what has happened to our heart? We were lost in love now we’re drifting far apart”) because “You’re not listening, you only see things your own way”, but looking to try and work it out.
It’s back to70s progressive psychfolk territory for tale of The Bearer Of The Poisoned Chalice (Part One: Descent From The Mountain), another Peters and Dog number, with its pulsing distorted guitars and which, telling of a sorceress “who swept down from the mountain” and “fell upon the village/Like an ancient curse” so that “All children later born were strangers to their kin/The adults withered from within”.
Taking a lazing blues lope with Lennon/Oasis tones, Scapegoat delves into New Testament territory (“leave us with your sorrow but don’t desert us in our hour of blue/Believe us when we tell you that the mystery of this wilderness is you”) with its chorus of “when he comes from back from the darkness he will shine with the stars up above”.
Another infectious folksy strum with a singalong chorus, Long Island, Long Island is a slow shanty call for emotional salvation (“you were my only hope when lost at sea”), followed by A Little Box Of Forgetfulness, a bluesier introspective reflection of getting older (“I was born after the war, then spent my youth lost in the Sixties… Older I took my time to wander/Long hair and drugs were all the rage/Playing music was an answer/I felt that I had come of age...these days…my hair is long once more but greying”) with its nod to current climes (“we live in stranger days than ever/We sing this song to stay alive”).
Given the notes of disillusion, disappointment, despair and desperation that inform several of the songs, a swaying strum heads to a close with hope in the vanguard to take A Leap Of Faith on the wings of love and friendship (“I will walk the Earth if you want me to/I will never leave you ‘cos you’re my soul/I will hold you in your darkest hour …keep me in your thoughts ‘though we’re far apart/I’ll forever me there by your side/I will be the one who halts the tide”), ending with Inside Out, John McQueen on double bass and wurlitzer-like sway as the ripples of time wash up memories and whatever the distance in years or miles “Here in your sigh/We’re entwined/And in my mind/There is treasure inside/For us to find”. Shine on.
Originally one of Birmingham’s great rock hopes of the 80s, DAWN AFTER DARK released three EPs on the nigh legendary Chapter 22 label before imploding in 1991. In 2019, however, they were approached to see if they’d consider getting back together to open for reformed former fellow touring outfit Balaam and The Angel. Such was the response that Chapter 2 owner Dean Brown resigned them and now, with founding members drummer Tony Henderson and singer Howard Johnson alongside new recruits Ollie on lead, Russ Frame on rhythm and bassist Drew Gallon, they’ve released their first music in 32 years, a new updated version of Maximum Overdrive originally produced by AC/DC guitarist Stevie Young, and the all new heads down, hard rocking riff driven Nothing Can Fulfil Me (Without Your Love), sounding like they’ve never been away. A long belated debut album, New Dawn Rising, will be released in December.
Having released her debut single in mid-2020, GABY KETTLE finally has a follow-up with Jamaica (GK Records), an assured slice of jazzy soul that starts of slow before hitting its slinky, prowling piano backed funky groove as she sings about “standing in Jamaica wearing no make up”. Potentially of Knight and Mvula levels, someone should invest in putting an album together.
You should be familiar with the name JACK RUBINACCI from his six albums, most specifically the first two, 2008 debut The Boys at Twilight and follow-up The Opal Tree. What you might not know is that the Anglo-Italian singer-songwriter was prominent on the Birmingham scene in the 90s as part of Honeyman. Now based in Norway, he’s just published Songs & Stories, a memoir of his life and career to date with a background to some of his songs that makes great reading, especially for those who were around Birmingham at the time. The good news is he’s also working on a new album, meanwhile the book can be found at Amazon.
