Jack Carty & Gus Gardiner – Hospital Hill
It’s Dinner Recordings – 1 June 2018
There are layers of nostalgia in Hospital Hill, the new album from Jack Carty and Gus Gardiner. The nostalgia may belong to them in many ways but there is an evocation of times gone by that will strike a chord at some point or other with any listener.
The album is a collaboration between Carty, who won the 2010 Acoustic Singer-Songwriter of the Year award at the National Music OZ Awards, and Gardiner, late of the Australian rock band Papa vs Pretty. They have known each other since university and have performed off and on together over the years.
It becomes very clear how much of a collaboration this album is when you listen to it, which is a rather sensible bit of advice I suppose. Carty’s songwriting produces the most appealing of lyrics and melodies which are enhanced by the strings of violin, viola and cello, the latter played by Gardiner.
A collaboration it may be in terms of music but the words I feel come from Carty and the layers of nostalgia are personal. Personal memories of a childhood: “only fifteen, playing Super-Nintendo” (Hospital Hill) followed by an awakening, at seventeen, (Stargazer) writing songs that just poured out, though now, a decade and half later, “can’t relate to half of the things I said…the only way I know it’s me are the memories in my head”.
It is not just time that evokes a feeling of nostalgia combined with longing. There are times when distance brings out a wish to revisit, return, recover what we had. Such feelings may come about by looking around where you are in the present and wishing you were somewhere else. Hotel Rooms have “always the same view…instant coffee…miniature shampoo…carpet wearing thin just like me”. Here, at this low point, there is a “concept hanging on a string”, a bright object but as you move closer, “chasing the pretty lights” it is “always out of reach”.
Travelling a distance often bring into focus what you have, what you miss and allow for periods of self-reflection. Driving along The Road A Snake, there are more reflections of an artist constantly on the move: “A chip on my shoulder and sandpaper conscience”. In Low in the Highlands things may be getting you down but “don’t give up trying” the beautiful is always around, “I saw your face in the sky”. It may be a long way back home but “I’m still going to try”.
However, such rueful moments as these are not the signature tune to the end but are recognised as something that can define us. We always search for something, look forward and therefore leave things behind, things that we enjoyed, made us feel warm and comfortable, loved, but they belong to ‘then’. Not forgotten but accepted in a positive way.
And one of the main themes running through these tracks is that positive outlook. Things have changed. People Don’t Care about songs any more; Kindness is a Dying Art. Yet there is hope. No, more than that. A sense of positive optimism comes through these words. “We are not the centre of anything” but like the fruit on the Apple Tree we are susceptible to gravity – though perhaps we do not appreciate that until we see the effect someone else has upon us – “you are my love, my gravity”. There is an overall sense of being centred. These words, this music, it all brims with optimism even in ennui. The writer is grateful. These songs are a summary of all that has gone before, a recognition of where he is now and a look forward to where he is going in the future – “I want to live before I die”. Great song writing, wonderful string arrangements and excellent production.
What is there not to like about this? Nothing.
Tour Dates with Maz O’Connor:
Wed, May 16 Liverpool Liverpool Philharmonic *(without Gus Gardiner)
Sat, Jun 2 Milton Keynes The Stables
Tue, Jun 5 London The Islington
Wed, Jun 6 Bath Chapel Arts Centre
Thu, Jun 7 Birmingham The Kitchen Garden Cafe
Mon, Jun 11 Cambridge Cambridge Junction
Wed, Jun 13 Sheffield The Greystones
Thu, Jun 14 Manchester The Cedar Room
Fri, Jun 15 Durham Old Cinema Launderette
Sat, Jun 16 Northumberland St. Cuthbert’s House