Label: Letterbox Format: CD
Paradoxes. (Yeah, I thought the plural’d be “paradoces” as well, but no). Paradoxes and Hackney. I love Hackney, yet at the same time I fear her something rotten. No, it’s not just the fact that I’ve been mugged here more times than I care to remember (well, even just the first time was technically “more than I care to remember”, but, y’know…), or that there’s always the risk of getting shot. No, what frightens me is that the other day, while out walking in Stoke Newington, I happened to notice that someone had left pasta out for the birds. Pasta. Not breadcrumbs, pasta. How can it be that in just the one borough, stupid amounts of crime can sit alongside people who genuinely believe pesto is a sandwich filling? As I say, paradoxes.
Another like that is Morning Bride‘s new album, Lea Valley Delta Blues. Yeah, even the title’s paradoxical, or at the very least self-contradictory. As is the fact that Morning Bride, already possessed of a huge cult following in Hackney, are exponents of what I could call Americana, if it weren’t for the fact that I hate the term. And have members coming from up North as well as from, well, America. But, y’know, paradox is what drives Morning Bride, as it does all truly great music. Love and loss. Heartbreak and hope. Suicidal despair and transcendent optimism. Somewhere is a place where all these things meet and have a few shots of whisky, and Morning Bride are on the jukebox there. Examples? Crikey. Nine tracks and not a moment wasted. Like the finest booze, it’s bloody hard to distil. But I’m a nice guy, so I’ll give it a go.
Each time I listen to this I have a different favourite track. Right now it’s “Stepping Out In Front Of Cars”. Utterly gorgeous- one moment the vocals are breathy, frail… next thing they’re kicking ass and taking names. Not sure whether it’s the most uplifting song ever, or the saddest. Like I said, paradox. “Faith Is Blind”. Another cracker. Slide guitar and strings… always a beautiful combination. I honestly couldn’t tell you whether this is a gorgeous love song with a core of spite, or a vicious one with a heart of gold. And do you know what? I couldn’t really give two shits if it’s gonna sound this good at whatever it’s doing. Imagine if Shivaree had come from Hackney. You can’t, can you? Well, you don’t have to. It’s all right here. “Eleanora” is a very different beast. Chief songwriter (that’s a good title – wonder if you get a special hat with that?) Mark Pearson takes over lead vocal duties for something that wouldn’t have sounded out of place on Julian Cope‘s Fried, or Skellington, maybe. If you don’t understand that that’s a recommendation, then you can stuff your fair trade pineapples up your asses and fuck off.
Ahem, sorry. It’s that Hackney duality thing kicking in again, I’m afraid. Oh, on the subject of Hackney, the album closes with a proper down-home hoedown, “Mother Hackney”, which addresses both the fear and love people have for this place. “Livin’ on the Murder Mile/oh what can you do but smile?” indeed. Come on. That’s great. A love song for a dysfunctional relationship with a London borough – now that‘s what we need. Get to know and love this song now, so you can sing it in drunken memory once the Lea Valley’s been destroyed to make way for that sporting event they’re planning on having in a few years’ time. I don’t care where you live, you’ll be pretending to live in Hackney by the time the last note dies on this one.
So, did I like this album? Figure it out. It’s hardly rocket salad. Science. Sorry, meant to say “science”. If you can’t do that, then try this one. How come my favourite Country album in, well, ages, managed to come from the middle of a built up urban shithole? As I say, paradox. Paradox is beautiful, and it can rip your heart out. Let it – there are worse ways to go, after all.
-Deuteronemu 90210 in a goddamn suit-
