Alastair Bickley
MV Fresher
I love Midnight Voices!
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Midnight Voices - The Album...
« : 17.11.24 at 13:34 » |
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Having purchased Luck of the Draw at the launch gig last year and loved it l thought that it was about time l caught up with the disc to which it is a companion, Midnight Voices of 2007: Volume 1 of the Clive James/Pete Atkin Songbook. Here are a few reflections which l thought I'd share - with apologies for the likely repetition of comments made at the time of its release, and subsequently.
The first thing to consider is the effect of the changes in Pete's voice after an interval of 30 years or so since the originals were recorded: clearly older: lower in pitch and more textured rather than higher, sweeter-toned as in the originals. There is a particular pathos attending songs that have to do with age, loss and regret, and it is easy to assume that the voice has grown into these songs with the passage of decades and filled them out. But of course it has always fully possessed them: the originals in no way suffer from the comparison. One can only marvel at how two young artists were able to embrace such subjects - age, decay, disillusion - so persuasively at such an early stage. It is a huge testament to the humanism and empathy of their project. The two versions of Senior Citizens illustrate this perfectly. Also rather obviously Thirty Year Man and Sessionman's Blues. And how these two songs call out to be set side by side! - always 'placed together though they never meet'. But on this disc they do at last.
Now a few more notes on individual songs, very approximately in the order that they appear on the album. Much of what l have to say about Pete's singing is encapsulated above, so what follows has mostly to do with the arrangements.
Laughing Boy... The clarinet solo in this deeply ambiguous song (about a sensitive loner. Or what is going on? - Discuss!) - it's the high-pitched squeaky one in b flat - found its way immediately into my top 10 list of favourite solos on any instrument. 30 seconds of pure delight! Thank you Alan Barnes for this gem.
Thief in the Night... for all its boldness of approach (which excludes the subject instrument from the accompaniment) the sombre tone does not work for me. One definite plus is hearing a shakuhachi put through its paces: a sort of super-breathy Japanese alto flute. Another is Simon Wallace's beautifully poised piano work. But the richness of the original comes from the contrast between the darker aspects of what the instrument represents, the vigour of the guitar's opening melody and the upbeat tempo generally. The loss of this emotional range diminishes the song. An interesting adventure, but for me not a success.
Sessionman's Blues: l can't resist digressing a little at this point in respect of the earlier version of this song on Secret Drinker (with apologies for noting something that has almost certainly been pointed out before). The soloist at the lovely 'doubling on baritone' moment at the end is Ronnie Ross - who sidles in a similarly louche way into the final moments of Lou Reed's biggest hit Walk on the Wild Side - another perfect moment, and possibly the most famous jazz sax solo in pop. I'm tempted to misuse the word 'iconic'. He taught the teenage David Bowie who remembered him when he came to co-produce Transformer, the 1972 album that relaunched Reed's career. Here he is a couple of years later, again evoking that world-weariness to which the baritone sax is so well suited.
The Flowers and the Wine. I have to confess myself wholly wedded to the original in this instance as well, with its slightly brisker pace, its minimal double acoustic guitar work plus bass and the lightest of emphasis from drums. It's short, but absolutely long enough without the repeat of the final verse. There's not a note or a second too many.
Hard on the heels of a song whose arrangement is largely unchanged (the perfect Beware of the Beautiful Stranger) one where it could hardly be more different: The Master of the Revels, which rounds the album off. Here a free jazz swirl forms the backdrop for that familiar vocal line rather than the circus sideshow band of the original - which nonetheless gets a ghostly oompah walk-on moment at the end in a nod towards the song's history. This is genius: a radical reimagining that acknowledges the original. For me it is the best thing on the album.
That's most of what l have to say, without making this contribution overlong. There's lots of gaps - in fact it's mostly gap - for other people to fill in, and very welcome. The non-gap bits are very much up for grabs as well. So do feed back.
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