Seasons of the sparks

Songwriters like Adrian Crowley belie the myth that the future of music lies with flashy bright new things. Time, longevity and commitment to his own vision have basically allowed him to develop into the best songwriter in the country by stealth, without ever resorting to gimmickry, fashion or desperate changes of direction. In answer to the question of how his records have changed – each record is the same, but it’s even more the same. He’s circling around the platonic Adrian Crowley record and he’s getting closer to it.
So a certain resolute toughness underlies this batch of beautiful Al Stewart/Leonard Cohenesque pastoral reflections. His production pallet’s expanded out from effected guitars to strings, harmoniums, glockenspiels, woodwind, organs, and strange percussive effects. And with those ingredients he depicts real geography and landscapes – gardens, rooms, wishing seats and colonnades he’s seen and spent time near, in which strange, oblique little stories about blind men and bee keepers can occur, all pinned down by his strong gentle baritone.
Reviewing records is a very imprecise activity. Let’s face it, good musicians score on their own terms and it never quite matches up to a marking system from the department of musical education. I’d have given the first Adrian Crowley record 3 out of 5, but each subsequent album has improved by at least one star. This means that the current Adrian Crowley record should get about 8 out of 5. Unfortunately I’m not allowed do that (sigh). So 5 it is.

Key track: ‘Squeeze Bees’