William Patrick Owen – first person singular
Self Released – Out Now
What you know straight away about William Patrick Owen when you listen to first person singular, is that he is not afraid. From the very start of this, his first full album, he is unabashed in the language he uses in his lyrics. He is also not afraid that settle down is the first track, for as the album progresses in order, the tone becomes gentler – or not gentler but peaceable though even that does not define it properly.
William’s lyrics are poems, clearly the thoughts as words and then developed into songs. They stand alone when read and yet take on a different life when worked into the music. There are recurring themes of velvet, of lilac and of petals, inspired by Patti Smith’s description of Robert Mapplethorpe near the close of his life, ‘a velvet petal fallen upon the floor’. Such imagery recurs through William’s words in lilac thunder, velvet petals and in life elsewhere which uses the Smith quote.
Another thing that attracts me to this album is the use of sounds to link tracks or to play into and out of them. These sounds are wild track as those that might be recorded for the background of films, sounds to fill a space and to add an atmosphere. Here they do that to create an illusion as with the audience in ribbon around a bomb, who applaud his tuning and revert to background chatter once the song begins. But somewhere in the song it disappears altogether and perhaps you don’t even realise it has gone until you are aware that there is no applause at the end, nothing in fact.
In the title track first person singular, a general backdrop invites us into a space that is still there at the end. We are in the room with William but even though we may feel that we are present he still says “I don’t know who I’m singing to”. We are unseen and even ignored. Ignored, but not in a negative way. Most of his songs carry high levels of introspection, masses of self-reflection and are well-peppered with imagery that is not always clear.
This added layer of enjoyment, if you like, is an important aspect of William’s songs. You can enjoy them on a simple, musical level, but they warrant spending time listening to, whilst reading the lyrics. They may appear disparate but does there have to be a cohesive theme? Well, no, but equally yes and it can be up to the listener to decide what that is. This is an album that works as a whole, not in a ‘concept album’ way but in a ‘this reflects a period of William’s life’ sort of way.
And you do get more than a glimpse into his life. out of step is about a relationship that has stalled and is now in that position where the automatic, in-tune harmony of two lives has become discordant; homme fatale, on the other hand, is the voice of one half of a relationship warning that “I’ll break your heart like many before”. Such baring of the soul, such simple yet complicated language together with the finger-style guitar, for example in lilac thunder, cannot fail to evoke images of Nick Drake. There is even a similar, paradoxical style to his singing voice, one that is frail but with strength. William cites Drake as an influence but I also hear, quite clearly, Michael Stipe to the point that in some places he almost sounds like him. Now I am not particularly fond of making ‘sounds like’ statements in reviews as it does not do justice to the artist in question, and can appear terribly lazy on behalf of the reviewer. But, here I make an exception for not only is there a definite nod towards Stipe at times in the voice, there is, I am sure, in ribbon around a bomb homage to Everybody Hurts, intentional or otherwise
And if all this is not reason enough to give it a listen, then let me tell you that this is an excellent first album. It is melancholia but in the tradition of British folk music that leaves you feeling good. The music does not impose itself, it laps around you, encourages you to become immersed and wants you to explore the words.
https://www.williampatrickowen.com/