Philip Marino – Chasing Ghosts
Self-Released – 27 July 2018
A gruff, throaty-voiced, Essex-based American singer-songwriter, following on from his mini-album debut, the full length Nothing And Everything and last year’s Simone Felice-produced Days Like These EP, Chasing Ghosts is his best yet, a 10-track collection of predominantly acoustic-based Americana that harks to such influences as John Mellencamp, Dylan, Cat Stevens and Neil Young.
A mix of storytelling and the (not necessarily autobiographical) introspective confessional, it opens with The Way It Goes (which actually reminds me of Gordon Lightfoot), the opening line of which is “There’s no telling who’s to blame, but in my life I’ve lost my way” and continues “There ain’t no angels here for me”, but refuses to wallow in contrition or self-pity, the strummed verses punctuated by a fuller drums and electric guitar chorus arrangement.
The acoustic fingerpicked In My Blood is an early stand-out, a song about inherited characteristics that slides into a reflection on a broken relationship that, in turns, echoes back on a broken home in the poignant line “I have my father’s hands/Nothing left to grab.”
A swampy Southern blues, Try is more optimistic in its notion of taking the chance on love even if it means you get knocked back, a fuzz of drone and sampled voices leading into the punchy mid-tempo stadium swagger title track, Adam Bowers underpinning on keys on a song that seems to be about being haunted by musical compromise and the conclusion that, at the end of the day, you should follow your truth and not be mired in regrets.
Pulling things back into a simple acoustic arrangement embellished by pedal steel, This Time reflects on encroaching mortality (“I’m more than halfway done with my life”) and, again, making sure that what remains looks to the future hopes rather than clinging to past regrets. It’s those, however, that underpin the fuller-sounding In Your Hands with its reflection on a relationship that fell apart through neglect and self-destructive pride (“a thousand cuts it’s how love dies”), a narrative that spills over into the achingly strummed When The Wind Blows.
Coloured with bluesier notes and those Young influences percolating, The Way That We Live balances desires with realities and dissatisfaction, that no one chooses darkness after seeing the light, but there’s always someone “got a life that’s better than mine.”
Another blues-inflected number, Bowers and percussionist Louisa Charrington providing the backing vocals, The Road Goes Down is cast in the storytelling mode briefly sketching two self-destructive losers, Tommy, for whom “a good day was a drink in his hand”, and Johnny, a big dreamer in a small town whose soul “died by the ounce”, driven by guilt and “a hole he’d never fill.” Its pessimistic view that, essentially, everything always goes to shit, is, finally, leavened by a ray of light on the album’s closing track, No Turning Back, a strummed, circling acoustic guitar melody (reminiscent of Buckingham Nicks days) and finger-clicks that acknowledges that “there’s no do-overs” and talks of getting lost along the way, but, in the final verse, finding a helping hand outstretched to “show you it will be okay.” The track fades only to suddenly erupt back into life for a rousing everyone-join-in stomp finale. But stay with it and, sung in nicotine stained tones, there’s a solo acoustic desert blues bonus number secreted away, guessingly titled Calibre 45, that, in its dark mood and lyrics conjures the ghost of Johnny Cash. It’s unlikely you’ll come across Marino on well-travelled paths, but look for those musical sideroads and less beaten paths and seek him out.
https://philipmarino.bandcamp.com/album/chasing-ghosts