The Church with One Bell - John Martyn

Track list:

1. He's Got All the Whiskey
2. God's Song
3. How Fortunate the Man with None
4. Small Town Talk
5. Excuse Me Mister
6. Strange Fruit
7. The Sky Is Crying
8. Glory Box
9. Feel So Bad
10. Death Don't Have Mercy
11. How Fortunate the Man with None (Original Version)

Running time: 47 minutes
Released: 1998

This album contains one of my favourite cover songs of all time. Martyn's take on Portishead's Glory Box is inspired. I don't have that much of Martyn's back catalog - just this, Solid Air, and his debut, London Conversation. I'm not quite sure why I have such spotty coverage but there we go. Time to see what the rest of this covers album is made of.

I don't actually recgonise any of the songs here besides Glory Box for their titles, or the listing of composers in the track metadata, so it is a bit of a voyage into the unknown in that sense. The opening number is a smoothly grooved track, with Martyn's sometimes gruff voice is applied in a hushed and softened manner. The tune is not revolutionary, the lyrics not great, but the overall vibe is much more positive. Mood is a massive thing in music and where Diagrams managed to butcher the mood on Chromatics with some very bland arrangements, here the tunes maybe simple but they hit the nail on the head, and support the central draw, our star's vocal.

There is a lot to be said for execution; the band here do just that. It could just be that I am in a more positive mood today, though.

Things get a bit weirder on How Fortunate the Man with None (which appears again at the end of the disc; apparently originally a secret track, my copy - digital purchase, I think - has it credited natively). There is a shift to the main structure of the piece, losing the easy, bluesy nature of the first couple in favour of a busier sound. Electronics creeping in to form a rather off-putting loop. I say off-putting because it rather dominates the tune, and frankly its not an interesting hook. There is some decent drumming around it, but Martyn's voice is subsumed into this underwhelming, synthetic sound, killing the majesty some. Thankfully it seems to be a one-track experiment.

Martyn had great resonance, a full sound, magnetic and with a natural depth to it creating a warm sound. His voice sits so well with slow, sparse, bassy tracks. Together this creates a comfort blanket in aural form, wrapping me up and captivating my ears. This is a laid back album for the most part, a late night album in some ways; it's early afternoon now but the sheer cool of the man, his band and their source material succeed in slowing things right down. I probably need more John Martyn records.

Strange Fruit switches things up a little, opening with a sedate piano melody that lasts 80 seconds before the vocal joins in. There is a touch of percussion in there too but this track is sparse. I love the slow tempo, the vocal becoming a drawl on the low notes; it drips atmosphere and reminds me a little of Tom Waits, only more welcoming. Martyn is a better singer, his voice smoother than Waits' I think, though I would be hard pressed to say which I prefer. The slow pace is a feature of a number of tracks here, but its effect is variable. I find it less endearing on The Sky is Crying, for example.

Musically, Glory Box is a faithful cover, upright bass taking on the riff with aplomb, but the real standout is the soulful way Martyn delivers the lyrics. He turns the track - always a downtempo classic - into a blues masterpiece. There is so much character in his low, meandering take - pretty sure he injects some new lines in places - that it really is magnetic. I have always loved the original track; covers are often difficult in that situation, but this one nails the aesthetic of the track so perfectly, whilst migrating it genre-wise. I put it easily alongside Portishead's version as an equal, if not a slight improvement on it.

Feel So Bad gets an injection of life; a livelier riff - and a better use of electronica than we heard earlier - switch up the overall tone, which the tune probably needed not to pale in comparison with what came before. The quicker, louder nature of the song cleanses the palette and so obviously distances itself from Glory Box that it doesn't suffer. It is a palette cleanser, too; the slow, low sound returns after one track away. I think this is album craft, a dying skill in the day of streaming and downloads. Death Don't Have Mercy gets to return to the style used to smash earlier efforts out of the park and still stand up brilliantly because we were pulled out of our soulful reverie for a short time.

Ah, now. The "original version" (metadata tag line, not mine) of How Fortunate the Man with None that I close on... this is much more accessible, more enjoyable than the credited version. This has life, soul and more organic sound. This has a clearer vocal, no dubious electronics and a groovier bass and drums. This is good, good enough for me to ditch track 3 and be happy to lose it. Everything else? Everything else is staying because everything else is pretty darn great.

Anutha Zone - Dr John

Track list:

1. Zonata
2. Ki Ya Gris Gris
3. Voices In My Head
4. Hello God
5. John Gris
6. Party Hellfire
7. I Don't Wanna Know
8. Anutha Zone
9. I Like Ki Yoka
10. The Olive Tree
11. Soulful Warrior
12. The Stroke
13. Sweet Home New Orleans

Running time: 53 minutes
Released: 1998

I think this was the second or third Dr John album I bought - but the first one that was newly released after I knew about him. I can hear several of the tracks in my mind's ear even now, despite not listening to it a lot in the last decade. Should be a nice one.

There is a good cover of a John Martyn classic, a guest appearance from Paul Weller, guest percussion from Steve Mason and, less excitingly, the main face of Supergrass playing guitar somewhere too - all according to Discogs. The Weller appearances I remembered, the others not so much. To be fair, I did not know who Steve Mason was or why I should like him back in 1998, even if I might have been passingly familiar with The Beta Band by name (another alumnus also appears).

We start with an into, bluesy piano to set the scene, which dies away to yield to a funky, riffy, rhythm. Ki Ya Gris Gris plays on the image of the Night Tripper, the early incarnation of the Dr John persona, more than most of these tracks I think.  It has a soft, slightly muffled vocal, but the percussion, and the high-strung guitar hiding behind it, really take you into the Louisiana swamps, though given the supporting cast of UK musicians...

The ambiance continues into Voices In My Head, a fug hanging over the song; this is the Gaz Coombs number - thankfully he doesn't sing. We then go into two tracks that are much more spoken than sung, stories set to blues, albeit ones with choruses. I am listening now (the second today) because trying to nap this afternoon did not work. Into the second half of Sunday and I still do not feel recovered from the week before; that does not bode well. Tried to motivate myself to get outside and do some overdue garden clearance (dropped leaves and dead heads) but despite the day being unexpectedly bright, the perma-wetness of the ground at this time of year ultimately persuaded me out of it. Late autumn and winter are just so... demotivating.

There is actually more to John Gris than my memory would have said, and actually there is more of a sung lilt to the vocal than I recalled too. It is a dark and moody piece, not easy listening; it has lost a fair bit of the bluesy sounds, but has a swagger to it. I am a little relieved as it ends however, to a much more guitar-driven piece (the first Weller number). The harmonies on the chorus work here, but the one verse could do without mentioning rape (as something never done, but still). The track is not as strong as I remember it and I find myself wanting it to end to hear I Don't Wanna Know. Martyn's version - without the I and colloquial spelling -  is superior (of course!) but here Dr John and Weller combine nicely. It is pretty much a straight cover, with a slightly richer arrangement and less fragility. This was my introduction to the song though and I still like the work done here. The swampy influence comes back in with the title track, big band blues but flavoured by the southern states. There is a majesty to the track, a distance between the base (not bass) and the brass which lends the song a style that sits well with me.

Back in the day, the spiritual heart of this album was towards the end, with The Olive Tree and Soulful Warrior, I wonder how they stand up to modern scrutiny. If the first few bars are anything to go by, quite well in the former case. The percussion is infectious and the thrumming guitar to build the background offset the vocal nicely - again spoken more than sung, a story of the ages. The chorus builds, adds in some simple horns; it is a comfortable pattern that I feel I could relax into (or could, were I not folded over the laptop keyboard). Once established, the song plays out to the pattern, though the second chorus is arranged differently to the first and then annoyingly fades out in a fashion that I have always disliked. Learn to write endings (not always a fair criticism)! Soulful Warrior also stands up nicely. Similarly engaging percussion, and a riff to go with it build our platform again. The pattern only breaks for the choruses and bridges. In another context I might call it boring and repetitive, but here it is used to back up a rich vocal which takes on the task of interesting the listener instead. Comfort tunes indeed.

That applies equally to the final two tracks. It may just be my reawakened familiarity with these songs, or it might be the good doctor's fine penmanship but I get a strong feeling of being wrapped in a blanket and warmed against the closing darkness. I am happy I chose to listen to this now, even if the reasons for that choice were not positive. We close with Sweet Home New Orleans - a richly orchestrated track, keys horns and percussion woven around each other to build the intro, fading for the first verse, then picking up with a slightly different syncopated rhythm. The song just has a really good roll to it, building, fading, combining, swinging and smiling its way through 6 minutes.

Unfortunately it ends the album by fading into nothingness rather than building to the big ending that the tune deserved, but this disappointment does not outweigh the positive sense I got from the album as a whole. I recall this being a favourite after I picked it up, and I could well imagine it making it into the car for accompaniment to commutes to come as a disc worth revisiting.