Pete Gow – Here There’s No Sirens
Club House Records – 5 April 2019
Trawling the FRUK archives, it is obvious that Case Hardin have left an indelible impression on both reviewers and editor Alex, featuring as they have done in both glowing album and live reviews (Colours Simple review here). April sees the release their main-man Pete Gow’s first solo album, Here There’s No Sirens, which is set fair to be received as an outstanding contemporary album.
Those expecting a solo iteration of the Case Hardin sound, however, will be in for a surprise, and as far as Pete is concerned, this is to be welcomed. The expansive, anthem-like, electric guitar templates and palettes, be they rock or country-tinged, here are replaced by a stripped back, acoustic songs, ballads even, augmented by brass, drums, organ, piano and string arrangements.
Whilst musically this is a departure which sees an exploration of new vistas, this is also an intensely personal collection in which his raw emotions and, at times, almost forensic exposition of relationships are laid bare through lyrics which, as with previous work, can often be dark, foreboding and left-field.
First track, One Last One Night Stand, powerfully sets the tone for the majority of the rest of the album. Clearly a relationship song, and sonically wide-screen, it is a perfect opener to prepare for what is to follow, and it succeeds admirably in taking both the writer and listener out of their comfort zones from the get-go, both lyrically and through the capacious and lengthy instrumental passage.
Next up, Mikaela begins with the pairing of Gow’s voice and an acoustic guitar taken at a slow, melancholic tempo, until an organ becomes more apparent before the introduction of a Mexican-sounding feel makes its presence felt, think elements of Mariachi Vargas De Tecalitlan. Once again, sweeping strings weave their inexorable way around the brass with relationship-based lyrics written to the eponymous female that display not only suffering
‘I can’t find that tiny brass ring
She said don’t worry, it’s just a silly thing
But no matter how small,
I can’t stand losing part of her at all’
but also some propensity for self-deprecating humour,
‘Songs are like tattoos
You should think before you name one after a girl’
I interpret the third song, Strip For Me, also the first single from the album, as a song which focuses on one, fictional, man’s attitude to, and treatment, of women. The uncomfortable opening lines expose this repulsive character’s misogynistic orientation
‘Did you think you are one of those girls too beautiful to hurt, too beautiful to cheat on?
There’s no girl too beautiful for that…
Strip for me, like Stormy Daniels’
And whilst the song references Stormy Daniels¸ (the porn actress and stripper involved in a scandal with President Trump), I don’t read it as a song about her; her name is surely used as a reference point to highlight the crass leanings of this imagined protagonist, a view which is, embarrassingly and unfortunately, also more widely held. A brave, and important song.
The title track, Here There’s No Sirens, is a mellifluous sounding piece, with the carefully chosen piano accompaniment a perfect complement to Gow‘s vocal delivery. Containing both a reference to the Pogues’ song, A Rainy Night In Soho being played on the radio
‘Radio on, it’s an old Pogues’ song
I can hear Shane sing, “You’re the measure of my dream”‘
and also, at the end of the song, a snippet from the song itself, rendered as if from a tinny old transistor, Pete‘s accomplished song-writing prowess is given the fullest rein.
The album was recorded over one or two short sessions, and superbly produced, at his Farm Music Studios in rural Oxfordshire, by musical polymath Joe Bennett, (musician in Dreaming Spires, Goldrush, Danny & The Champions of The World, Bennett Wilson Poole). In addition to production credits, Joe wrote the melody and harmony parts, recorded the strings, sang backing vocals and played a multitude of the instruments appearing on the release, with the exception of drums, which were provided by long-time associate and co-musician Fin Kenny.
These excellent production values pervade the whole album, and the soaring string interludes which permeate both the country-tinged TV Re-Runs, and the jaunty, acoustic guitar-led I Will & I Do, with its fine harmony singing and brass, give added vibrancy and vivacity, whilst always allowing the lyrics to take centre stage. A word of credit is also due here to Tony Poole (Starry Eyed & Laughing, Bennett Wilson Poole) who mastered the album.
Storytelling of a different kind is represented by Some Old Jacobite King. The song presented here on Here There’s No Sirens is radically different to the folky version that is available performed live at The Defiance Sessions in Glossop Labour Club July 2015 (online here). Gone is the solo acoustic guitar and harmonica, replaced with a much fuller, more sumptuous sound, complete with piano, strings, bass, drums and discrete pedal-steel. Similarly luxuriant is the sonic soundscape created by the album closer, Pretty Blue Flower, which delivers as good a five and a half minute song as you are likely to hear all year.
One of Pete’s avowed intentions was to make a solo record that was distanced from Case Hardin releases, and, in addition to the musical differences outlined above, the eagle-eyed may notice other subtleties, such as the album is named after a song and the cover art is a picture of Gow (by Veronica Casey), two features studiously avoided on the group’s releases. Also, in the Folk Radio review of Case Hardin‘s Colours Simple, mentioned above, from Mike Davies writing of Gow ‘talking of women as sirens to hearts too bruised to care about getting beaten again‘ to Here There’s No Sirens marks an intriguing shift in more ways than one.
This detachment from previous group releases, and the potential for alienating fans might be construed by some as a foolish move. To others, it will be seen as brave and bold. What cannot be in question is the fact that the venture is an unmitigated success.
Here There’s No Sirens is a remarkable record, engendering, in varying proportions, elements of beauty, discomfort, empathy and guilt. Something for everyone then.