Review Summary: A surprisingly inventive album from possibly the least well-known Academy Award winning artist in circulation.
As per usual, we were late in organising our trip to Berlin – a mad rush to finalise accommodation, itineraries, things to do and places to go – when we discovered that Glen Hansard would be playing Admiralspalast the evening of our arrival. My recently unwrapped ‘This Wild Willing‘ played in the background whilst we discussed if we could make it in time for the show. While we played with the idea of attending, my wife mentioned that what we were distractedly listening to, did not have the same infectious appeal she had enjoyed when I’d dragged her and some friends to a small but fantastic gig to see him on his tour promoting previous LP, ‘Between Two Shores’.
I tried to explain that the album seemed to dust off some of the bleaker, more indie-tinged atmospheres I’d fallen in love with on The Frames’ album ‘Burn the Maps’ and less those of his Oscar-winning OST ‘Once’ or the subsequent The Swell Season LP’s whose driving singles, mixed with his collaborative, warm, folky-rock live show had bewitched her, but this was met with apprehension. From my first listen, what niggled at me was his overly restrained vocal delivery that clashed with his past statement of having been able to be a successful busker being entirely dependent on having “a potent voice”.
Two days later we were seated on the balcony of the opera house, last minute tickets in hand and after a satisfying support act, Glen opened his set with ‘Fool’s Game’, the third track from his new album. I did not recognise it at first and I worried that the formal setting and the confirmation of that low-set, almost mumbled voice filtered through a vocoder might lose my wife’s interest. When the song erupted - a fireworks display of drums, brass, triple guitars, bass, triplet of strings and piano but with an all-important roar from Hansard himself, pitch-perfect and perfectly audible over the band’s explosion - I am not ashamed to say that I shed a tear of relief and relaxed to enjoy the show.
The song segued into an acoustic guitar solo courtesy of Javier Mas and a delicate, female vocal outro in Iranian, highlighting one of the elements that differentiate this album from the rest of his solo work : a widened, musical palette.
Glen redirected the solo album he was working on almost on his own when he chanced upon some musicians at a gig in Paris that he invited to record with him; the recording sessions hence became like his live show where a minimalist, structured approach degenerated to become an inclusive, collaborative effort, in true Irish troubadour tradition.
The curtain goes up and we are greeted with the slow-burning, lead single ‘I’ll Be You, Be Me’, a murmured crescendo in the vein of The Dears with an almost electronic beat that traces the base upon which strings grow into a noise infused outro.
As the other musicians take to the stage, the instruments begin to enrich the performance. A piano riff introduces ‘Don’t Settle’ as Hansard begins to relax his voice somewhat. As the piano riff grows in intensity, strings swirl in the background and a trumpet rises above the crescendo, Glen brings it back down before the music swells again and he continues to increase the pathos in his performance.
The aforementioned show stopping ‘Fool’s Game’ brings the house down and the album has only reached its third track. I find it almost impossible to see how he could have released a song of this sort before this album but it is without a doubt one of his highlights.
The band are now in full swing and the Eastern elements shine through on ‘Race to the Bottom’, a mid-tempo almost jazzy number complete of Persian kamancheh, ney and setar and a Greek bouzouki riding over a rich brass and percussion baseline. ‘The Closing Door’ maintains the varied instrumentation of the previous track but grows both the tempo and the sense of brooding intensity that infuses the first part of the album; if I didn’t know any better, I would almost liken it to a collaboration with Talvin Singh.
At this point, as some of the audience would consider it the moment to return to the bar, it is worth noting that I have not heard Hansard so despondent since the afore-mentioned ‘Burn The Maps’. Whilst he doesn’t infuse it with his usual, more joyous approach, ‘Brother’s Keeper’ and ‘Mary’ harken back to a more traditional Hansard sound that, if still stuck waiting for your beer, you would almost feel relieved you are not missing a highlight of the show.
Regaining your seat in time for the onomatopoeic ‘Threading Water’ with its tinkling piano underlying small fills make Glen’s impassioned crooning literally feel like the listener is experiencing a summer shower or watching a light squall on a lake and it is a standout of the second half.
‘Weight Of The World’ is a gracious, delicate jam that runs the risk of losing the public’s attention again; whilst this often happens on his other works due to the sheer resonance of their stand-out tracks, on ‘This Wild Willing’ it is due to its normality compared to the musical inventiveness showcased in the former part of the album. ‘Good Life Of Song’ rectifies this slightly by reinserting some of the Eastern elements but it is sandwiched between ‘Who’s Gonna Be Your Baby Now’ and closer ‘Leave a Light’ that revoke to the traditional Irish standard as their blueprint.
It is a shame that there is no need for an encore at this imaginary concert of an LP. The sheer inventiveness Hansard showcases in the first part compared to his other solo releases eclipses the latter, delicate but meandering half, leaving the listener spent.
At Admiralspalast the encore consisted of inviting members of the public to join him onstage to dance and play followed by an Irish traditional sung by all the members of his touring crew, sound engineers included, but on record there is no last ditch effort to leave the listener’s mouth agape. Rather he bids us farewell with the appetite to see where this newfound direction will take him and if it will result in the perfect album he has the capability of delivering. As the curtain drops, our belief in its arrival is alive and well.