ELERI – The Carnival

Behold! The bright lights and festooned rides of ‘The Carnival’ are about to wander into town. For singer-songwriter ELERI presents a music spectacular that is not to be missed. An eclectic show of country bops and reflective folk moments. Prepare for your listening ear to be drawn keenly to the sound that she presents. For this Welsh musician has a message to deliver. A celebration of female empowerment. Hear love, passion; catch a glimpse of vulnerability; and feel the music course through your body as genres mix and collide. ‘The Carnival’ is yours to enjoy. Take a seat and listen.

‘Magic’ introduces us to the concept of the album. It plays on the typical sights and sounds of the carnival scene; an atmosphere induced initially by rapturous cheering and applause. “Roll up, roll up”, ELERI cries, and so we do. Not only to be entertained by this delightful twist on a lovesong but to be spellbound by the burlesqued ‘Heels to Hell’. Its sultry, Blues inflections are reminiscent of ‘New Sin’, a continuation of her previous material, as ‘Heads I’m Yours’ threads through elements from debut album ‘Earthbound’.

The eclecticism on show here is part of her marvel. She warps and weaves many colours together to create a patchwork that truly reflects her musical style. One minute, the sweet, gentle Folk of ‘Blue Skies’ is promising better times, and the next, ‘Snake Like You’ is biting its Rock into the ‘Medicine Men’ that Elles Bailey sings so astutely about. On the latter, Millie Blooms features. And on ‘Good for a Girl’ and ‘Bang Bang’, Eädyth and Paige Wolfe appear respectively. All are powerful voices in an industry still dominated far too readily by men. ‘Good for a Girl’ cleverly turns its mansplaining and bullshitting culture on its head, offering warranted criticism whilst celebrating women in music, and challenging the inequality at its heart with dry wit and excellent irony. ‘Bang Bang’ picks up elements of the same theme and runs with it, in three-and-a-half minutes, on pure adrenalin. It is the hidden gem on ‘The Carnival’ site, tucked away behind the disco ball staging of ‘Karaoke’ and the meditative darkness of ‘Burn the Candle Down’.

There is truly something for everyone to enjoy here. To be enthralled by. And that also includes moments to contemplate, as with the flickering flame she burns with Leon Stanford on ‘Burn the Candle Down’. A simple song but so effective. As is, in some ways, ‘Every Road’, which brings ‘The Carnival’ to a close. For when all is packed up, the journeying done, and the adventure over, we often find ourselves back where we started. Back home. A subtle but poignant note on which to end.

ELERI really does put on a show here. ‘The Carnival’ is an album definitely worth buying a ticket for.

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Featured Images (C) ELERI

The Martin Decker Show

The Covid lockdowns presented both challenges and opportunities for creatives. For actor Keiron Self and producer Kevin Jones, The Martin Decker Show was conceived in such a context and now reaches its climax in a 70-minute film. Shot almost entirely on iPhone and GoPro cameras, it is a witty and cleverly conceived mockumentary that parodies the self-made ‘stars’ of social media. It lightly pokes fun at the online world of gaming and fitness videos while telling a story that contains a real depth of emotion. I was pleasantly surprised by its ability to be both humorous and heartbreaking. It is by turns off-piste and tragic.

Fans of Self will recognise in his protagonist some of the hapless romanticism of another of his characters, Roger Harper, from the sitcom My Family, for which he’s best known. In Martin Decker though there is a repressed sadness behind the jollity that eeks out as the narrative progresses. This results in a story that is full of pathos, made all the more prominent by the comedy on which it is built. What is witnessed is, in essence, a mid-life crisis; a mental breakdown of sorts of a white, middle-aged man who refuses to accept that his wife no longer loves him. The film ingeniously points to this state of affairs: from the slightly rundown semi-detached dwelling to Martin’s loose-fitting appearance in shirt and tie, not to mention the many calamitous moments while filming videos for his YouTube channel. He is, in many ways, a reincarnation of Keith Barrett, actor-comedian Rob Brydon’s character in the sitcom Marion & Geoff. He certainly displays the same kind of false positivity that at once draws sympathy and pity. But there is also a growing insanity, presented in such an offbeat style that one is forced to laugh at him at times, in spite of oneself and his situation. Martin’s stubborn refusal to admit what is happening right in front of him becomes both the cause and effect of his comedic value. Add in the deadpan commentary of Lynne Seymour, who also plays Martin’s wife, and it is a recipe for pure entertainment.

There is a serious side though. For encased within scenes of Minecraft videos and tinselled-up cars are genuine moments of tragedy. They beat palpably through the silence which is held by Self with such deftness that it’s hard not to be emotionally struck by the hopelessness and humility of his personal circumstance. It comes to a head in the bathroom, where most of Martin’s videos have been shot. He hides in a cupboard from whom he thinks is his wife’s new fella when, in fact, it is her. There is something incredibly poignant about her message to him, delivered, as it is, via the very camera that he has used to form his own YouTube channel. The consequence, when he finally faces up to reality, is so simply and beautifully done that one is left to admire, with satisfaction, a film of unexpected depth and genuine charm.

The Martin Decker Show may start with its protagonist faking applause for his own show. But by the end, this real audience member was clapping authentically, so impressed was I by this lockdown creation.

For more info, including cinema screening dates, click here.

Originally written for and published on Get the Chance on 7th September 2023.

Featured Images (C) Keiron Self

Edie Bens – Poster Child

Following her debut EP ‘Playing Pretend’, Edie Bens turns up the tempo and increases the pop on new single ‘Poster Child’. The Welsh singer-songwriter returns with another tale of broken love, this time dissecting the returning ex whose life is a shadow of their former self. Bens tells the story with her usual frank honesty and acerbic irony, in lyrics fanned into flame by an electro-pop soundtrack with a Countryfied edge. This gives the song a new-found energy which, when combined with her observational style, quells emotional intensity in favour of hard-nosed fact. The lines “Sat in the White Rose / You tell me that it’s fine / But you’re drinking like your father / And crying like a child” then become caustic rather than empathic, in such a way as to feel anger at the situation in the context of a wider social problem, where mental health remains a stigma, especially for men. This is what makes Edie Bens’ songwriting stand out from the crowd. ‘Poster Child’ isn’t so much a put-down as a reflection that speaks to something deeper.

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Featured Image (C) Edie Bens

Maya Lane – 24F

As August turns to September, and the sun sets that little bit earlier, so the release of Maya Lane’s new single fits perfectly with the kind of self-reflection made for these cool-breeze evenings. The acoustic rendering with light pop production on ‘24F’ lifts the listener above pale-white clouds and into blue sky on both a literal and metaphorical level. Its expansive and dreamy soundscape transports you into the plane seat of the song’s title but the incidental lyrics cleverly convey a very different view out of the window. For “all the little mountains climbed / and all the lows that made the highs” present not so much a physical landscape as represent a mental and emotional journey through life. The verses are more evident about this, speaking of “window-seat reflections” that turn to memories of canteens, music lessons, and bathroom pep talks. Maya brilliantly captures that state of being we all find ourselves in from time to time, particularly when travelling, looking back and “making out the picture that I’ve drawn”. It’s what gives ‘24F’ a real point of connection, and confirms that her upcoming EP is going to be one that will speak rather deeply into the hearts of those who listen.

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Featured Image (C) Maya Lane

The Family Wash – Dirty Laundry

The Family Wash is a collective not unlike Songs & Stories. In fact, the vocals of Paul Dunbar and Naomi Campbell are reminiscent of Tennessee Twin. That same easy listening Country/Americana defines their sound. It can be found right across their album ‘Dirty Laundry’, a record that works well with its vocal contrasts and traditional musicianship. It certainly has that Classic Country feel about it.

The opening bars of first track ‘I’ll Bring the Stars to You’ have a bit of a contemporary twist a la Luke Combs. The driving guitar and piano set the listener off down a gravel road with plenty of fuel in the engine. Things quickly slow down though once it gets going, ‘The Tide’ turning in more ways than one to bring the first of a number of contrasts on the album. The despair (made even darker by Dunbar’s bass-like vocal) doesn’t last long however as the light-hearted ‘Well, Obviously’ and head-bopper ‘I Don’t Want to Dance’ testify. They bring a gentle sway to proceedings in the way that only classic Country Music, with its acoustic guitar and pedal steel, can.

Sandwiched in between is ‘The Family Wash’, a metaphor laden with references to Country Music in its sound, sights and lyrics. The line “rinsing away memories of heartache… that soap wouldn’t touch / left stains upon our hearts” is perhaps the most evocative on the album, and when complete with aching fiddle and Dunbar’s deep vocal, it becomes a song with echoes of Johnny Cash storytelling. Indeed, the Man in Black is referenced in ‘I’ll See You in Jackson’, an alt-lovesong that, with the addition of Naomi Campbell’s voice, becomes a sweet, pensive tune in the style of her other band Motel Sundown. ‘Your Other Face’ has similar vibes, but ‘Catch of the Day’, with its honky-tonk sound, is a reminder that The Family Wash is always harking back to an earlier era.

It is this classic streak that runs through ‘Dirty Laundry’, underlined by the contrasts in the male-female vocal combos, and the use of fiddle, pedal steel and acoustic guitars, that makes for such a pleasurable listen. ‘From the Crowd’ is the perfect track to end, exemplifying an old-school beat with enjoyable rhythm.

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The Goudies – L.A Never Leaves Me

The Goudies are back with a brand new single. ‘L.A Never Leaves Me’ is an ode to the Californian city that they spent a short time in but that made a great impression on them. The lyrics are steeped in longing and affection for its “shores” and “greener grass”, so much so that it writes like a romance. The depth of this love affair is expressed most fully in the lines “I see her in the mountains / and look for her in towns”. Along with “I never really liked the cold”, it does a good job of evoking their present Welsh landscape while seeking after that “something more” which lies beyond, captured in their hearts. This gives the song a spiritual as well as emotional dimension, lending weight to what I think becomes the pivotal line: “L.A never leaves me / I have to wonder why”. When coupled with the dreamy score, it really impresses on the listener the impact the place has had on Beth and Sam. It makes it mark on us like LA has left its mark on them.

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Featured Image (C) The Goudies

John Jenkins – Tuebrook

Head east out of Liverpool City Centre and you will come to a suburb called ‘Tuebrook’. The title of John Jenkins’ new album is partly inspired by this place, its artwork a two-up, two-down, red-brick home on one of its streets, familiar to anyone with a connection to this part of the North West. It is where the singer-songwriter grew up, making this a semi-autobiographical record. Containing snapshots of the people and places that he remembers, he also combines fictitious elements nevertheless inspired by this location. All told in a very stripped back style, his songs become intimate stories that are keenly felt. You don’t have to have been to Tuebrook to experience it for yourself.

It is the incidental details in the lyrics that make ‘Tuebrook’ such an interesting listen. Whether the “Road to Nowhere” highway that had such a devastating impact on local places, or the “dirty faces, sore knees…, scrubbing our hands in margarine” of childhood shenanigans, both ‘Shadows’ and ‘Christopher Roberts’ evoke situations and circumstances that are specific, but speak to something more universal. The former really does convey something of its first word, “discontented”, pushing it to the verge of despair. The only thing that stops it, and the album, from falling into an abyss is the soft, wispy vocal of Jenkins himself. There is a ray of hope always in his delivery; understated but present at all times. It contributes to a lovely reworking of ‘Wayfaring Stranger’, the lines changed absolutely while the tune remains to create ‘Idaho’. It is the most Country-sounding track on the album but doesn’t feel out of place despite its geographical difference.

The rest of the album is mostly steeped in Americana, though evocative of Paul Heaton & Jacqui Abbott’s folk-pop, but without the heavy production. Most of the time it is just Jenkins and his guitar, who will perhaps pick up the tempo now and again (‘Passing Time’) but mainly sails across calm waters. The subject matter may cause a ripple, like the piercing final verse on ‘43 & Counting’ – “And I feel so old / Silence has spread through this house and my soul / Separated like a leaf from its tree”. It doesn’t last though, as the light jazz on ‘Child’s Sense of Wonder’ for example, brings a playfulness that, on this occasion, is also ground in recognition. Jenkins’ songs always feel close to home, achieved most readily through a refusal to unfold his tunes into heavy pop production. Add in a wistful voice full of reflection, and they become as inviting as those of Suzanne Vega. None more so than ‘Lost in the Storm…’.

The final track, ‘Mr Ford’s Hardware Store’, truly grounds the listener in a reminiscence of a bygone age. Sung by children to give it that extra taste of memory, it fits perfectly with the loose concept of this album, bringing to life an area still fondly held by John Jenkins. Tuebrook may not be well-known beyond its Liverpool locality but it is honoured rather beautifully here by one of its most musically-talented proteges.

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Featured Image (C) John Jenkins

Jeorgia Rose – Boxes

Songs on the loss of childhood innocence hit me harder these days. Since turning 30 I’ve done a lot of self-reflection on adulthood so far and hankered after simpler times in the wake of unmatched expectations and life choices. So hearing Jeorgia Rose speak about such things on her latest single ‘Boxes’ has been a cathartic experience. Much like ‘Girl Who Didn’t Care’, by Tenille Townes, it looks back on the carefree and uninhibited younger self. While both celebrate this persona however, Townes’ song contains an element of hope which ‘Boxes’ seems to be lacking. For Jeorgia Rose appears to be mourning her passing without any hint that “she’s still in there somewhere”, to quote Tenille. The simple and sensuous pop elements of the production add to this sense of sadness, as contentment gives way to self-consciousness and concern replaces assuredness. It is a much more fragile expression of the theme, which makes its vulnerability more potent. Certainly, the central image of the compartmentalisation of life into boxes resonates keenly, with an honesty that resembles kinship. So as much as Tenille Townes offers the possibility of redemption, there is something about its absence in ‘Boxes’ that allows Jeorgia Rose to offer a different sort of comfort. One in which she meets you where you’re at, and gives recognition to how you feel; looking back fondly on the past even as a return to it is out of reach.

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Featured Image (C) Jeorgia Rose

Mikki Evans – Watch Me

Mikki Evans turns from pop to rock on her latest single ‘Watch Me’. The Country artist shows another side to her music with this low-toned, dirt-road offering. The presence of electric guitars and heavy drumbeats add significant attitude to deliver a strong statement of intent. It is made at the very start in the lines, “They said I was a weak one / never be someone / funny how the table’s turned”, and continues likewise into a chorus full of defiance. Two images in particular stand out: “watch me lose control / like the meanest bull at the rodeo” and “I’m as free as the air you breathe”. Both lines convey the strength of self-belief well; the refusal to be put down by those who seek to “drown my dreams in gasoline”. Instead, Mikki uses such fuel to make the passion inside her burn stronger, making this song an anthem for the denigrated and disparaged.

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Featured Image (C) Mikki Evans

Demi Marriner – The Things We Didn’t Say

It is the things that Demi Marriner does say on her album ‘The Things We Didn’t Say’ that make it such a pleasure to listen to. Lots of lovely lyrics – whether single lines, paired rhymes or whole choruses – that wheedle their way into the ear. Wrapped in the broad genre of Americana, they sit neatly as a collection of emotional portraits. Love, regret, hope and loss are all on display on a record that finds her voice front and centre. She is a woman of words, and how beautifully does she put them together.

No doubt influenced by Elles Bailey, for whom Demi is a backing singer, opening track ‘Sins’ begins with an infusion of Gospel-Blues. The low basslines and high-pitched slides of the first minute’s instrumental sets the scene nicely for the potential that bubbles in a relationship where “troubles at the door / and I’m thinking about letting it in / but are you worth my sins?” This theme carries loosely into ‘Distorted Desires’, already a hit single, largely because its chorus is something special. A winning mixture of acoustic rhythm, lyrical arrangement and vocal dexterity make it so. But it’s also the gentle confidence with which its told that elevates it to a plain on which its deconstruction of forbidden love is unequivocally achieved. It matches the emotional heft of ‘Little Boy’, but in a very different way. For though both songs could be considered a form of encouragement, the basis of ‘Little Boy’ is advice rather than challenge. Written after the birth of her cousin, Demi pours the lessons of life into this track with sagacious enthusiasm. The subtle shift from “you won’t…” to “we don’t…” that precedes the line “…always get it right the first time” shows a shared vulnerability which makes for a sweet and poignant message.

There is also a poignancy to the other family-inspired song on the album. ‘Mother’ is the first of two that have graduated from her ‘Dandelion’ EP, this being a gently anthemic celebration of a pivotal figure in Demi’s life. Fragility is not shied away from; in fact, it serves to strengthen the bold images in its chorus. These range from “a robin floating in the breeze” to “a flower in a field of trees”, “a lighthouse to guide a sinking ship” and “a fighter for what she didn’t get”. Such descriptions are as uplifting as they are moving, and sit comfortably alongside a growing canon of maternally-inspired material, including ‘Mamas’ by Anne Wilson and ‘Mother’ by Kacey Musgraves.

The track that follows, ‘Don’t You Worry’, also has a mother-daughter relationship vibe. It is also unashamedly old school Country, especially in its sound. The simplicity to this toe-tapping arrangement brings a warm smile of appreciation before the familiarity of Demi’s signature tune, ‘Cold Coffee’, invites it to stay. The song still possesses one of the best lines in UK Country Music – “You’re like cold coffee / you tasted better the first time around” – told with a deftness that renders it sublime. Only ‘The Light’ could follow it as a fitting final track, with a rousing orchestral finale that brings the curtain down on an album with much to say. The artwork on the cover is reminiscent of ‘Sounds Good in a Bar’ by Katy Hurt. And many of these songs will. For Demi Marriner is a gifted storyteller and songwriter, of the same class as both Bailey and Hurt.

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Featured Images (C) Demi Marriner