Mark Fry – Not On The Radar

Second Language

Mark Fry - Not On The RadarFollowing on from the Second Language’s label recent re-emergence out of semi-hibernation, with The Declining Winter’s still-sublime Last April, comes a return-within-a-return from visual artist and onetime pastoral-psych legend Mark Fry. Having previously brought 2011’s baroque-tinged I Lived In The Trees (with backing assistance from The A. Lords) and 2014’s soothingly lush South Wind, Clear Sky to the 2L catalogue, after a decade or so’s gap arrives the meta-anointed Not On The Radar.

finest songwriting
Although a long-time coming, this is far from being a laboured long-player. Recorded in loose yet finessed fashion in his Normandy painting studio, with integral multi-instrumentalist input from returning accomplices Angèle David-Guillou (Piano Magic, Klima), John Parker (Nizlopi) and Iain Ross (Laika), as well as the newly-augmenting Ian Button (Papernut Cambridge, Swansea Sound, ad infinitum) and producer David Sheppard (Snow Palms, Ellis Island Sound et al), this is an elevating and entrancing ensemble suite, built around some of Fry’s finest songwriting to date.

With some therapeutic wisdom-rich late-life reflections on a world going too fast (“Who can stop the world / From all its spinning”) and the related passage of time (“I used to have all the time in the world / I gave it away for free / Now I keep an eye on it / I keep it under lock and key”), unfurled through Fry’s warm half-spoken vocals, giving the collection a strong core thread, proceedings musically weave between various gradations of tender intimacy and – somewhat unexpectedly — lateral grooves.

hushed bucolic plaintiveness
Therefore, in the former larger camp the compositions emerge through electro-acoustic balminess (“Only Love”), languid airiness (“Big Red Sun”), evocative ethereality (“Where The Water Meets The Land”), twinkling slow jazz (“Daybreak”) and hushed bucolic plaintiveness (“If I Could”), to gently expand upon the commanding heights of the aforementioned South Wind, Clear Sky.

spacious and spacey
Contrastingly, out of the latter camp arrives the stirring “Stormy Sunday” and the low-slung title-track, which both stretch out as gorgeously radiant and rubbery polyrhythmic workouts that particularly appear to bear the percussive-minded imprint of Sheppard’s own work elsewhere. The eponymous cut’s marvellous malleability also lends itself brilliantly to a spacious and spacey six-minute remix treatment from Richard Norris as a digital-only bonus track.

Both reassuringly familiar and unpredictably inventive, Not On The Radar delightfully encapsulates the benevolent organic power that can be drawn from a combination of reclusion-borne songcraft and open-minded collaboration. Hopefully, though, we won’t have to wait quite so long for a sequel.

-Adrian-

Leave a comment

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.