A couple of years ago, I was still totally unaware of M G Boulter – and then I heard what I believe is his breakthrough album, Clifftown. It seems I was not the only person who then sense a remarkable similarity between him and Paul Simon. Mostly it was his singing voice, but there was also this same kind of vibe in his storytelling. I didn’t mind at all because I have for decades been a big Paul Simon fan.
I know that in interviews M G has said that he was never a Paul Simon fan himself and didn’t really listen to Simon’s music. Be that as it may; at least on his latest release, he comes through with a very strong presence and voice of his own.
Days of Shaking came out already last year, but it took me this long to sit down and acquaint myself with it. And I have to say, as much as I enjoyed and even loved Clifftown, this one really touched a nerve. There is a more unique element here that I cannot put my finger on, it just feels to me that he has really matured and discovered a new depth as both composer and lyricist.
Let’s talk about the music first. Boulter does an excellent job here in presenting us with a collection of songs where each song has its own personality and quality and yet the album holds together beautifully. I get the sense of a mosaic, pieces of different color masterfully fitted together to create an entire image.
The intricate, contemporary folk of the opening title track is followed by the nervous clicking beat of Quiet and that in turn by the probably quietest song on the album, 10 Habits of Successful People. This could feel as if the artist is throwing everything on the wall to see if something sticks, but it all makes perfect sense here.
The production (by the always reliable Andy Bell) and the rich arrangements are exquisite; just listen to the interplay of the acoustic guitar, the cello and the pedal steel on Talk to Me of Water where backing vocals vocals are provided by the excellent Jenny Sturgeon. That’s the only track where she appears, on many other songs, it’s Lucy Farrell’s wonderful voice that harmonizes with his, adding so much to the atmosphere.
Then the lyrics. Clifftown was like a book of short stories about the people in this fictional town Boulter imagined. Days of Shaking departs from this and, instead, is full of lyrics that are so poetic and so full of vivid imagery. I have to admit that in many cases I’m left to my own devices to figure out what a song is about, but hey, that’s poetry, right?
And his words and poetry are shining and beautiful, sometimes, strangely enough, reminding me of the way Jon Anderson of Yes writes, or how some lyrics in the songs by the Alan Parsons Project are full of emotional and visual impact without any specific meaning. And I like that, I’ve always liked that.
Sometimes here, in a song such as Silver Birches, I can almost grasp what Boulter is perhaps telling me, but not quite – and that’s OK because I thoroughly enjoy the way he uses his words and images.
Funny enough, the one song whose message comes through loud and clear for me, is a song about dreaming and describing a particular dream. The song is James Mason, and listening to it on the first really warm day of the Finnish summer after a long cool spell somehow touched me quite surprisingly.
The song floats around in an echoing but soothing aural space, with Boulter telling us about dreams and especially one where the legendary actor James Mason appears to him:
James Mason visits in a dream / his presence strangely comforting / Why this actor and not some other? / In a stage whisper, he says to me: “You’re not destined for dust, we are not just destined for dust…”
if you are old enough or movie buff enough to recall James Mason’s voice and presence, you may understand how those lines, sung by a very expressive artist, can be very touching, especially as this song is written and produced in a way that becomes a movie in your mind itself.
So many great songs on Days of Shaking that I would love to mention them all, but my personal favorites aside from James Mason and the title track are The Hotel at Midnight (a very visual experience again), The Jaws of Nothing (a beautifully existential piece) and also the closing, Blonde Pine which, after emotionally intense music and words, feels relaxed and almost bouncy – it’s cathartic in just the right way. It’s the perfect ending for an absolutely beautiful album.
FolkNotes 