- Music
- 14 Mar 05
The younger generation of Irish singer-songwriters have tended to obscure Luka Bloom's place in the firmament. But with this more reflective and introspective album (his 10th), he restores himself to his rightful place in the pantheon of intelligent and passionate songsmiths with his uncanny ability to see the power and meaning in the atoms of daily life.
The younger generation of Irish singer-songwriters have tended to obscure Luka Bloom's place in the firmament. But with this more reflective and introspective album (his 10th), he restores himself to his rightful place in the pantheon of intelligent and passionate songsmiths with his uncanny ability to see the power and meaning in the atoms of daily life.
Apart from the polished glow of a title track that evokes the nostalgia of religious ritual, this is nowhere more obvious than in the deliciously evocative 'Gypsy Song', a track spiced with the sultriness of the Middle East and Eastern Europe or 'No Matter Where You Go, There You Are', which tells the sad tale of an Algerian Muslim carpenter. 'City Of Chicago' is a bleak reflection on the Famine, while 'Primavera' is a poignant meditation on the ramifications of growing old(er). 'June' is one of the few songs to move up a gear, stirring the senses a la Van Morrison and 'Thank You For Bringing Me Here' is a remarkable love song to his parents.
Two instrumentals, the plangent 'Peace On Earth' and the zestful, but sadly brief, 'Larry Rediconês Bow', show how Bloom can paint pictures with metal and wood too, and he is well served by the subtle contributions of Pat Collins' expressive fiddle and Mohamed Bouhanna on derbuka.
Dominated by a voice more languorous and at ease with itself, Innocence is the less frenetic work of a man growing in maturity and wisdom, but still willing to take the road less travelled. We should take that road with him for a while longer yet.