Of the many elements Blair Dunlop has got right with What Still Survives, the award-winning British singer songwriters sixth full-length album, is the backbone of the sound. Bob Dylan was trying to describe something like this back in 1966 when he settled, aptly, on the phrase ‘wild mercury’. I cannot hope to improve upon that description. Still, I will, all the same, say that, aided by Ian Grimble on production duties, the combination of acoustic and electric guitars, drums and bass, with frequent embellishments by Hammond organ, pedal steel and violins, pretty much lays out a musical toolkit that can conjure the widest possible range of emotional responses. Blair has put himself and his latest batch of original songs, mostly written solo with the odd co-credit to band members and collaborators, front and centre of this timeless soundboard and trusted the material to raise some audio cane. Given the power this provides him, it could be tempting to overplay the hand, but Dunlop is maturing into a classy operator on this front, never one to slam the pedal to the metal just for the sake of it. So, there are songs like the tender Eventide which, compared to the moments when the wild mercury is running free, are equally powerful in their restraint, letting the chord progressions and gentler instrumentation get the message across. In fact, across this entire album, there is the sound of an artist becoming ever more confident in their work, at ease with the expressive process and enjoying the way creativity opens a window to the soul.
It strikes me that finding an identity and getting comfortable with his own voice and style has been the big motivational push in Blair Dunlop’s solo career. It is entirely understandable, should that be the case, that anyone born into a rich musical heritage must find it twice as hard to forge their own musical space in the pantheon. Do Sean Lennon or Dhani Harrison ever escape the Beatles comparisons? Can Eliza Carthy ever meaningfully pull free of the Waterson/Carthy legacy when her voice echoes so resoundingly of her mother? It may not be quite the same with Blair and his father Ashley Hutchings, whose reputation settles around the preservation and forward motion of traditional music and folk songs, but then Blair did briefly take the reins of The Albion Band after his father called it a day, something which meant he was instantly holding a legacy in his work. But I don’t mean to make this sound like too much of a weight to carry; in fact, the musical education that must have provided is positively mouthwatering, not to mention growing up around so many esoteric sounds and influences. But ultimately a musician, especially a singer-songwriter such as Blair, lives and dies by the individual identity in their work; the Dylan or Joni copyists rarely gain too much traction. So, for more than a decade now, the solo albums and live work have been building a catalogue of material distinctly Blair’s own, built around guitar playing increasingly ignited by the possibilities the folk-rock form continues to explore.
The album opens with a song that appears to assert the writer has been at least partially successful in finding himself. You can almost taste it in the tone and subtext of the lyric, even though Looking Through as a whole is searching for change. Not a change of identity, in fact, not of any fundamentals in the protagonist’s view, but they do want to “change the frame I’m looking through.” It is a song of desire, a wish to get back a purity that has been lost amidst the rubble and debris accumulating around us as life’s hurdles and challenges grow, something addressed directly with the beach walk findings in Trilobite. The sound has a tangible longing, with Holly Brandon‘s fiddle part sounding both sorrowful and full of hope. The frontman is also allowing his guitar to do some of the talking; naturally, he refrains from any unnecessary showing off; this is all about the colours that the songs in question are crying out for. In Dalmatia, Hiding Blair opts for a bright, trebly feel, the kind of sound that leaves lacerations with its crisp, sharp clarity, whereas on This Isn’t Love, just as the lyric finds positive energy in the loveless circumstance, an electric guitar jumps in like another voice, crunching and abrasive but also the catalyst for this particular song’s fantastic momentum shift into its second phase. Later on, the resonance and timbre in The Alchemist could be held up as a textbook example of why people wax lyrical about the magic of analogue sound. Pasadena, on the other hand, visits a pure country music landscape with vital spirit.
Blair has assembled a strong supporting cast here, and high among the well-placed backing vocals featured is Asha Jefferies on Lay Your Head Down, a beautiful companion vocal sung just behind Blair’s lead part that only enhances the caring yet grounded emphasis of the lyric. A shout-out should go to drummer Fred Claridge too, for his solid occupation of the drum stool throughout, but especially for the phat accent he nails on the opening of Pax Romana. Are You Loved sees the group unleash their more rocking instincts, proving that Blair can pull a radio-friendly chorus hook out of the bag when the mood takes him. This one was written with Dave Burn, who also appears on additional guitar and backing vocals, and it doesn’t take a massive leap of faith to imagine this tune cropping up on rock-based radio stations worldwide. And as we reach the end, it does appear that a contextual arc has formed across the album, especially in the emotional release of Blair’s singing at the close of Pasadena, where he finally sounds at peace with himself. It is one of the strongest moments here, a deliberate and potent revelation in the running order. The album’s positive lift is sealed with Bud On The Bow, a Meet On The Ledge-style rabble-rouser that pulls together every vocal contributor featured thus far to form the most uplifting chorus line. It is the final, perfectly placed brushstroke on an expansive, lyrically immersive piece of work from the hand of an artist truly commanding and refining his expressive voice.
What Still Survives (October 30th, 2026) Navigator Records
Order What Still Survives (CD/LP)
Live Sessions:
Tour Dates
Tickets: https://blairdunlop.com/live/
18 Nov – Gullivers, Manchester
19 Nov – NCEM, York
20 Nov – Temperance, Leamington Spa
21 Nov – Louisiana, Bristol
22 Nov – Phoenix, Exeter
24 Nov – Hug and Pint, Glasgow
25 Nov – Head of Steam, Newcastle
26 Nov – Live Room, Saltaire
27 Nov – Greystones, Sheffield
28 Nov – The Grace, London