
Murray McLauchlan – Hourglass
True North – 9 July 2021
Not all protest songs have to be shouted out loud; some are equally effective as whispers. And that’s very much the approach taken by the award-winning Canadian songsmith Murray McLauchlan on Hourglass, an album that finds him variously responding to the pandemic, the state of contemporary America and the refugee crisis.
It opens in a typically laidback manner with The One Percent, a gently shuffling number laced with pedal steel. The song addresses the inequality of wealth and power and the way those that have it work hard “To make sure that things stay that way” by always looking out for number one as he concludes that we’re “Gonna need a bigger boat/To keep the human race afloat”. A similar theme informs the intimately sung, fingerpicked chiming guitars and steel of I Live On A White Cloud (For George Floyd), an irony-drenched song about white privilege (“all the gods are nice to me/Cops all call me sir/I live on a white cloud/Don’t worry ‘bout tomorrow/If someone else’s kid gets killed/It’s someone else’s sorrow”) who talk about equality because it’s cool but don’t practice it and refuse to accept the legacy of the past (“Don’t pin the blame on me/For what my great grandfathers did”), though it’s veined with the growing awareness that change is in the air and that “I’ll soon fall down like rain”.
It’s the last of three dedicated numbers in a row, the first being A Thomson Day (For Tom Thomson), a soothing shuffling song in celebration of the beauty of nature, inspired by the Canadian landscape artist of the early 20th century. The second is the deliberately melodically incongruous waltz-time Lying By The Sea (For Alan Kurdi) concerns the Syrian refugee crisis and the desperate quest for freedom. Kurdi is the 3-year-old who drowned in the Mediterranean when his parents’ inflatable boat capsized.
Returning attention to home shores, the folksy strummed America with its simple musical box-like melody and keening pedal steel casts a divided nation in terms of a relationship that’s fallen apart (“You used to love each other once/At least you used to talk/Now you’re in your separate rooms/And all the doors are locked”). The song calls for reconciliation and unity (“If we stick together/We can survive what comes our way/We can build the strongest bridge/That will not fall or sway”) because “If you can’t reach each other/And the whole thing falls flat/I don’t like to think about/What happens after that”.
The theme continues through the title track where, as the sands run out, he offers a prayer “for all of those/Whose future’s yet to come/Trying to make a better world/Such as we’ve never seen/Trying not to get run over/By a global greed machine”. A reminder that amassing all the “bright and shiny stuff” won’t be of much use “When the memory of us fades”. Adopting a conversational tone around circling guitar patterns and keening steel, If You’re Out There Jesus calls for a little divine help for a world that’s lost direction (“We’re a long way from alright/Feels like perpetual night/We could use some light”). He adds the wry line, “if you happen to come back/It would be cool if you come back black”.
The fourth in this frame of mind, and again veined with hope, is the jaunty jog-along folksy Shining City On A Hill which opens on the optimistic note that “There’s a dream that people dream/Impossible as it may seem/They’ll be leaning on a windowsill”. Firm in the belief that paradise can be regained if the will is there, he sings, “While the smoke and bullets fly/While the best among us die/There’s a dream that’s waiting still”.
Written and recorded during lockdown, there’s only one direct reference, the country jog of Pandemic Blues where despite “there isn’t a thing/That hasn’t gone wrong/The sun won’t rise/And the moon won’t shine/There’s sand in the wheels/Now they grind” he reassures that “time will heal” and “everything will be fine”. And so, calling to mind the early acoustic work of fellow Canadians Bruce Cockburn and Gordon Lightfoot, it ends on a final hopeful and similarly musical note with bright guitar notes, steel and soulful organ of Wishes (“I wish that love would win/Wherever hate is found…I wish that in the long dark winter/I might see the spring”), closing on the personal wish that “some day I’ll wake up and be wise”.
Listening to the sharply directed words and empathetic sentiments on this unassumingly lovely album, there is little doubt that McLauchlan is already wide awake, and his hourglass keeps perfect timing.
Hourglass is released on July 9th, via True North Records.
Pre-order via https://truenorthrecords.com/murraymclauchlan/
Photo Credit: Marc Lostracco