Review Summary: It just came out very naturally.
What do you think of first when you see the term ‘singer-songwriter’? For me it’s sung poetry, acoustic guitars, people like Jacek Kaczmarski, Wojciech Belon and Paweł Czekalski, and most of all, the irreplaceable sense of intimacy their songs have to them. Despite having a soft spot for this type of music, its representatives from abroad remain stranger to me (aside from the inevitable Bob Dylan). Suffice to say, when presented with John Martyn I was intrigued. Without further ado...
Bless the Weather thrives on a range of moods. Composed mostly of serene acoustics with occasional electric accents, it makes good use of the not-so-wide space between the dreamy and the earnest. The opener is slow, and warm like a rest in sunlight, with John dreamily singing
Life, go easy on me/Love, don’t pass me by. The title track speeds things up while, subversively, dipping into melancholy and confronting changes, the good and the bad. “Just Me” is pure joy, a tranquil love song with accompaniments by John’s wife Beverley. This goes on throughout the record, but then we have the oddballs. “Sugar Lump” kicks in amidst the folk rock with its playful rock n’ roll antics, providing a high dose of energy fairly early into the album. “Glistening Glyndebourne”, the album’s instrumental masterpiece, is six-and-a-half minutes of guitar and piano verve and messing around with echoplex. Make no mistake – it doesn’t feel monumental, simply impressionist. It perfectly encapsulates Bless the Weather’s light and spontaneous atmosphere and more than any other track evokes the feeling of staring at the rain. This larger and somewhat more notable form is contrasted by a very short vocal display of happiness in a rendition of famous “Singin’ in the Rain”. I must say, this one’s a great pick to include on the album as it fits the overarching motif of weather. Speaking of which...
The album was recorded after John and Beverley had moved from London to the seaside town of Hastings and you can clearly tell how much the local weather has influenced the words.
Bless the weather that brought you to me, curse the storm that takes you away.
Watching the simple things to help me grow along/Loving the notes you bring to help me sing my song/Rowing back down my river, trying my best to be me/Rowing back down my river, singing my songs to the sea.
The Sun’s in my heart and I’m ready for love. The way they’re delivered leaves nothing to be desired. John sounds natural, engaged and provides some really memorable bits, displaying his ability to evoke different emotions while keeping away from dramatism. Not to mention the man knew how to keep balance, usually following the singing with a decent bit of an instrumental outro.
According to John, the writing and recording of
Bless the Weather went quickly and spontaneously. Said spontaneity is what I attribute part of the album’s appeal to – it’s easily digestible and no song, even the lengthy penultimate track, feels like dragging. What we have here is pretty simplicity and, most importantly, pleasure that seeps from the author to the audience. Make sure to come here when you’re in a mood for serene music and some water imagery.
