In Music : John Holden - The Great Divide

 It's A Mystery!

          An Album of Songs

With John's sixth project, I find myself asking a question. Why, beyond glancing at the Affirmative Family, do I dig into this particular series of contemporary music that began to emerge from John Holden in 2018?

It's definitely about intelligence.  John offers storytelling across a wide range of subjects, from murder mysteries and ancient artefacts to recent political history and, of course, light satirical observations on how the world is moving. That intelligence, therefore, sits in the tradition of Fairport Convention's storytelling, but unlike a certain rock keyboard player, the music echoes the curious effect of discovering Tutankhamun's Tomb, the bombing and resurrection of Coventry Cathedral, an Olympic race, and, come to that, Venice.

It's also about being self-effacing; John is in that old tradition of the North. He does not have a posh accent, which means, in English terms, he is underestimated, and he has what we call no 'front', nor does he take himself too seriously. He takes the music seriously.  So the music is powered by an authentic love of the subject and the humble, modest act of music-making rather than some vainglorious idea based around look at me. That means the music is brief and concise. He sublimates himself to his art.

He would say he is not a great musician; well, that's up to him, but he can write a mean tune, and that's where I want to start. 

The Great Divide opens with an aching, beautiful plea to love; you can feel the writer's pain, frustration, and helplessness as the tenor voice warms to John's message. Then everything changes; the tune is played entirely differently, quick, sprightly, before developing a more anthemic, stately grace. Another drop-off before we head into a shuffle, and this is one of the great successes of this project: unhurried, fine, elegant playing that insinuates the tune into your head and lets the music breathe. There is no insecurity or manic trying too hard. The transitions are unforced and very musical. If this is progressive rock, it is not in the arrangements or playing; it is in the sense of journey. When the contralto female voice comes in, we have already travelled some way. A plaintive-sounding ' violin ' comes in, and then the male voice returns, a little more gentle, before the voices join together and the violin celebrates. The male voice wraps itself around the female's more resigned understanding of where they are. The final third is a fitting musical epitaph for this relationship, and I cannot help but wonder that John is doing something which few broken ties do. Find peace inside the dichotomy of not wanting the past and yet having a fond legacy love. Such is the pervsity of the human experience; sometimes, though not always.

Stormwarning is graced by Peter Jones, who needs to be at his most passionate and beguiling to carry this off. The intoxication we cannot forgo is expressed not only in the voice but also in the guitar; it just cannot leave the scene, and it mines every corner of this obsession until it finally fades into the night. In the meantime, the listener can air guitar to their heart's content. Like TGD, the guitar playing on this piece from Luke Machin is allowed to run on without ever becoming tedious, or 'please move on'. 

Runes starts with a Wakeman County Airs vibe, but that's just Part 1. Part 11 is the real jewel of this piece. The voice, the sounds, channel the early Middle Ages,  an Anglo-Saxon dirge, slow, stately, surrounded by strong metallic playing. It conjures up weaves of natural fibres, swords being forged, gold being smelted and a rugged beauty. Utterly fantastic imagining. Sertari's voice is robust and tough but still warm and musical, and a massive get for this piece.  At the end, the mood of the first section returns, almost turning it into a Concerto.  

Leaf to Blade reminds me of this project's great success; it's John's best album of songs. Iain Hornal's voice has a lovely smoky sound, and he sings the libretto very formally, allowing the fireworks to come from John's instrumental pitches. I am going with the Eagles as the template. 

The lyrics, like so much these days, should encourage us to think deeply about why we got here and what circumstances allowed such a man to secure the highest office in the land of a democracy, and yet evince so much disquiet; enough said.   

With The Jewel Was Ours, I am reminded of another reason I love John's music. It's English, or more accurately, from an English point of view. This Jewel with PJ on Vox feels so familiar and comforting, as is the subject. The detective is thoughtful, self-sufficient, arrogant, and vulnerable. Oh, and he loves classical music and sang in a choir. Oh dear, am I looking in the mirror! The music that surrounds Pete's voice is full of intrigue and change rather than long, elegant soloing. Orchestral Stabs, short runs on keys and guitars, but it's not choppy, over-complicated or distracting. It serves the piece. Peter brings it all together and carries the ride out with chorus and verse, and so musically. Such intelligent music making! Oh, I do not do crosswords, but I love nothing better than to walk in Christchurch Meadows with the ghosts of the two professors.

Sandcastles, with Sertari on vocals, burning organ, honky tonk piano, and a pushing bass, riffing rhythm guitar, John enters the door marked soft soul. This is definitely not Prog Rock Mark 3, no loud/ soft, endless intro, just great, intriguing music. I can imagine Jools Holland playing on this. It would have been interesting to add soul backup singers via programming, just fleetingly.

Art and Craft is four square in the territory of the superb Home Service with John Tams. Some brass (pronounced BRAS in John's part of the world). Iain Hornal (yes, he worked for those well-known solicitors Anderson, Rabin and Wakeman) sings in a more open style, with less of his own twang. John's accompaniment is every bit as artistic as the G4 (whose work I fell in love with in 2015 before the magic hat hit the drums that night). Lovely repeating chorus, a bit of a choir; this is the kind of thing that Mr Holden excels at. A jangling guitar motif, a clipped bass sound, some amazingly adroit drumming, before the magic beard man from Canada envelopes us in his magic. Michel St Pere is not so much gothic as pure Cathedral on this piece, and so perfectly judged. An artist shows their real gift when they know to stop, and so shall I.   

Well done, Lad.            

To explore John's musical world and purchase The Great Divide, go to https://johnholdenmusic.com/