Josienne Clarke – A Small Unknowable Thing
Corduroy Punk Records – 13 August 2021
For me, some of the most enduring records are those created when the artist is fuelled by a burst of singular inspiration and goes it alone, shedding much of their usual surrounding input. This is what Josienne Clarke is experiencing here, having made this music with no producer, no collaborator and no record label diluting the vision. And let me be clear from the outset; the sense of purpose, the drive and even the hint of anger that bleeds over the edges of this work are real. Josienne is not making a wholly solo album because she felt like making a change. This is far from a whimsical detour away from the main collaborative arc of her career thus far. No, this is a wholesale clearing of the decks, a slammed door on the antechamber of her past with a firm announcement that this is where the new life begins.
You may remember her acclaimed folk duo alongside Ben Walker; they won the 2015 Best Duo title at the BBC Folk Awards. As a working partnership, though, their end was sudden, dramatic and public; in her blog, Josienne tells of how she walked out of a 2018 concert hall in Belgium in the interval of their final gig, never to return. Further personal upheaval soon followed, and eventually, she relocated to Scotland’s Isle of Bute. After initially stepping back out with her PicaPica band, Clarke has increasingly focused on solo work. In that mode, particularly on this new LP, a good deal of residue from her duo years is starting to spill out. There is heartfelt emotion laid bare on this most personal of song cycles.
I will not speculate about the difficulties that derailed the duo. However, what does jump out is that, as an artist, somewhere along the line, she felt her input under-valued, uncredited or ignored. Most galling of all, she can attribute the reasons for this to anything other than music. To illustrate what I am getting at, imagine if, in Simon & Garfunkel, critics, peers and audiences unanimously lavished praise and credit at Garfunkel’s table because he was the taller, grander and (for want of a better word) artier looking of the two. As the only songwriter in the duo, the days before Paul Simon finally snapped and took his music off to create without Garfunkel were always numbered. Actually, that is quite close to what really did happen with those two. Still, you see my point; as the vocalist playing alongside a hirsute, rakish looking libertine guitar virtuoso, Josienne felt the extent of her creative input was often overlooked. And I mean no malice towards Ben Walker in writing this, who has since pursued a successful and well-respected solo career, reflected in these pages; whenever I saw the two performing, his guitar work was indeed very fine. But I believe Clarke was the primary creative dynamo in that pair, and it is only right that the centre stage is now hers to occupy.
To shoulder all responsibility on this project is a statement in itself. You can make compelling for and against arguments around music made by committee (mine mainly fall against). Still, a focused one-person vision, a solitary harvesting of an idea to its yield, will always have a bit of focused impact to it. An artist with a point to prove tends to throw everything in, and that is what we have here; sides to Josienne Clarke are unveiled that were previously submerged. From the off on ‘Super Recogniser’, the guitar picking has a grungy texture, the drums stutter, they sound free and loose, suggesting this music could fly off in any direction. There are subtle electronic beeps firmly rooting this music in the modern world, and then at front and centre is that voice, which somehow sounds simultaneously young and lived in. That said, this song is very much an opening prelude, a mouth-watering taster for the sonic adventures and song writing journey that follows.
‘Like This’ is crunchy and pounding as the words “sing something incomprehensible” begin a meditation, possibly on production? White noise and mumbling are referred to as she seems to kick out against those who want to clean up or interfere with an honest vocal delivery. “I could never lie”, Josienne tells us on the next number, “the truth runs all through my inside”. It certainly pays into the suggestion that this album belongs in the counselling realm, the primal scream confessions of a folk singer. The music on this one has a repeated, distorted ping that kind of settles in your head like a fever dream. To follow that up with ‘Chains’, which has a slow-burning, late-night spooky soul vibe (I wasn’t sure if soul was a misleading word, but then a gorgeous aching organ sound appears, so I’m sticking with it) certainly rubber stamps this record as heavy in the best possible sense.
‘If It’s Not’ continues that dark smoky feel, but this one is gentler and lets a little vulnerability breeze past. Then another gear change, and I can think of no better introduction to ‘Sit Out’ than to say it rocks. As such, this is probably the tune that grabs the attention most dramatically on this collection, but this is no mere detour. Josienne executes that feedback, that rumble and melodic shredding with an assuredness that would make Sleater-Kinney sit up and take notice; this rage is hard to deny. Following it up with more punch-drunk Memphis soul, as she does on ‘Sting My Heart’, makes this two-song sequence my favourite. Later on with ‘Repaid’, this texture is delightfully revisited, this time with added violin and sumptuous gospel piano chords, leading to an uplifting ‘Everybody Hurts’ style ending.
The most genteel moment on here is saved for the closing ‘Unbound’, the soothing acoustic guitar and piano touches setting the sun on a turbulent journey. That discord is especially upfront on ‘The Collector’, opening as it does with more sheets of distortion, a white lightning introduction well-judged as the church-bell organ and waves of cymbals that follow play like skies clearing after a storm over a mournful landscape. ‘Tiny Bit Of Life’ is the closest we get to an acoustic, singer-songwriter texture (and this is nine songs in), but even here, there are rough edges, unsettling distortions in the beautiful production.
‘A Letter On A Page’ steers us back to base even further, suggesting that having been through rough times that the circle remains unbroken; as one love fades like a setting sun, a new love will burn bright. On the penultimate track, the feeling that this singer has thoroughly dealt with these creative issues and demons is hard to ignore as she imparts “you’re nothing but a deep cut in my back catalogue, a rejected line from a song I never sing anymore and I wish you whatever you want, but don’t come darkening my door”. When she concludes on ‘Out Loud’ that “I’ve been inclined to hide”, you sense that this is closing the book on a period of her life that is long gone and, musically at least, Josienne Clarke will be hiding no more. Essentially, ‘A Small Unknowable Thing’ looks like the opening chapter on what should be a long, diverse and rewarding solo career. Whatever the future holds, this is a rather impressive release to have to your name. It may not single-handedly right all the wrongs of misogyny in the music business, but it makes a point in the best way possible; by simply being a creative artist who lets her work do the talking.
This will stand the test of time because it is an album that the artist had to make. These songs are so direct, showing an immediacy born of frustration and inspiration. Unshackled creative freedom screams out of every song, which just so happens to be ripe with raw artistic expression combined with music of surefire melodic and dramatic purpose. Where she goes from here should be fascinating.
A Small Unknowable Thing, Clarke’s second solo album, will be released on August 13th via her own label, Corduroy Punk Records.
Pre-order: https://ffm.to/unknowable
Photo Credit: Video and Artwork: Alec Bowman Clarke