Sylvie Simmons – Blue on Blue
Compass Records – 14 August 2020
Was there a clue to Sylvie Simmons’ future on the other side of the microphone way back in the pre-streaming, post-Punk days of 1981? There’s an argument to suggest her chosen pseudonym when writing for then-new heavy metal magazine Kerrang!, Laura Canyon, was both tongue-in-cheek and a nod to the more organic style that her 2014 debut and this sophomore record resonate with. Blue On Blue would not sound out of place tumbling from speakers in LA’s late 60s enclave famous for its counter-culture musicians. Since the 70s, Simmons has interviewed and written about everyone from the Sex Pistols to Springsteen, Muddy Waters to Mötley Crüe, so an eclectic taste is to be expected. Her love of all genres is the first thing to note about Blue On Blue. Be not afraid though, readers of Folk Radio; this set errs towards the acoustic, not the bombastic – no covers of Shout At The Devil lurk within – one for the covers album, maybe?
That it’s been six years since her eponymous debut isn’t as much of a surprise as you might think. From her home in San Francisco, Simmons continues to write for the major music magazines of the UK and US, tours regularly in support of her uke-based songwriting (which she combines with stories from her internationally successful biography of Leonard Cohen), as well as finding time recently to co-write another with some woman called Debbie Harry.
In the background, a lot of the songs on Blue On Blue came together, some in their own sweet time, some as a result of necessity. On day one of recording, a major accident forced her out of action for months, to the extent that some of the songs written prior to a serious hand injury were impossible to play whilst in recovery, leading her to write new tunes for the album.
It would be easy to say an injury like that will cause you to reflect on where you are and where you’re going next. The truth, I suspect, is that the process of questioning had started long before she decamped to Howe Gelb’s (Giant Sand) Tucson studio. Gelb produced and played on the record. The result of a difficult birth had the potential to sound confused, unbalanced. Not a bit of it. Blue On Blue explores the Schrodinger state between arrival and leaving, love and loss. It is a gem, comfortably accommodating a variety of styles and moods, a purposely ambiguous set from the slow shuffle of the opener to a Country homage at the end.
‘Keep Dancing’ begins in a park, where a man dances amongst the detritus of a city, barefoot and alone. Lounge Jazz licks and acoustic guitar curlicues drifting in the breeze. From there, the opening line of ‘Nothing’ recalls Harvest-era Neil Young. Simmons’ voice delights in skirting the melody until it finds a path to the middle-eight and then Gelb’s keys, substituting for stridently plucked strings, run away with the coda. Both songs are light on their feet, the playfulness exhibited by the music at odds with the lyrics. ‘Nothing’ is the first of several on the album where the wordplay is particularly Cohen-like; ‘When I was a child / I played hide and seek / I forgot that you were gone..’
‘Not In Love’ is a dark, stately lullaby, Sylvie appearing defiantly independent, but is she open to persuasion when she asks someone to ‘Meet me on the edge of town’ so they can decide what happens next? Expect disturbing dreams if this melancholic slice of Everly Brothers balladry is the last thing you hear as you drop off. In contrast, can you hear the Yé Yé in ‘The Thing They Don’t Tell You About Girls’? The sun-splashed cobbled streets of Montmartre fizzle with an upbeat, sideways look at the female of the species – ‘..if you want to know the truth / Sometimes I climb on the roof / Balance high above the street / Just to hear my heart still beat’. ‘Waiting For The Shadows To Fall’ is a highlight. An open melody played barely above walking pace, featuring beautiful guitar from Brian Lopez and words that seem to sum the record’s theme up nicely – ‘I know you’re looking for the turning / I’ve seen you looking for a sign / But you can’t see the horizon / Only the end of the line.’
And so it goes. There are often more questions than answers, leaving the door ajar for multiple interpretations, allowing you to decipher a meaning that meets your personal needs. Simmons is superb at focusing on small tableau; how’s this from ‘Creation Day’ – ‘There was a room / The windows shuttered now / A wooden bed / And by the bed / Roses and candles’.
The piano and descending Ukelele chords in ‘Carey’s Song’ chivvy a ‘suitcase full of failures’ into another journey. ‘Sweet California’ is the credits to your favourite road movie in song-form, framed in simple chords and soft backing vocals. ‘The Man Who Painted The Sea Blue’ builds from picked guitar strings into a gorgeous melody. Simmons’ delicate voice is contrasted by the powerful keyboard that lifts the song from its folk beginnings into mid-60s orchestrated pop before gently settling it back again. It’s very, very beautiful.
Each song is a short story, moments caught on Polaroids. There’s even time for a goofy selfie masquerading as a duet at the end, where Simmons and Gelb down a last shot of the evening and spit out some home truths to each other in true Sinatra and Hazlewood style. There’s no question that records this good are worth the wait. After a couple of spins, Blue On Blue feels like a classic from the past but continues to reveal moments of delight long after, much like Sylvie’s debut did. She’s taken the unwritten rule about journalists having a go in the studio and torn it to pieces. The woman can write. Who knew?
Pre-Order Blue on Blue: https://compassrecords.lnk.to/blueonblueEM
Visit: https://sylviesimmons.com/
Photo Credit: Tara Juell