Can't believe I'd almost given up.... and then this comes along and completely changes my outlook on everything. I don't even think that's as hyperbolic as it seems. Ok, so over the last few years there's been lots of amazing records - but all by bands (most of whom I'd struggle to tell you the name of a single person in the band). Even this year there's been an amazing amount of brilliant records; First Aid Kit, The War On Drugs, Bruce Springsteen and Beach House are among my favourites. Last year Aidan Moffat probably released my favourite record with Bill Wells (and it was incredible) but still didn't live up to the way I used to think about musicians.
Then....
Well then the other day on a general wander through Spotify I stumble across Bill Fay's new record and decided, for no particular reason other than the fact he looked like an older version of Jarvis Cocker, that I would give it a listen. I had no idea he had released two pretty poorly received records in the 70's and then again a couple of years ago. So I went into this completely blind and no idea what to expect. Then it hit me. This was exactly what I'd been waiting for. When I was 22, bright eyed, about to sign a record deal and completely naive to what that would entail, I used to think all I ever wanted to be was Ian Curtis. He was my hero. I loved everything about him. One Spring night that year (2005) I was on the train alone and had about 15 pages left of his biography written by his wife, Deborah. Until that point I could see no wrong in anything he ever did, despite his many obvious flaws. As I worked my way through the last pages, consuming every word like it's the last, I started to feel completely overwhelmed by everything I'd read. When I finished the last sentence, before I had a chance to close the book over, there it was. A single tear had fallen on the page. I was completely overwhelmed with emotion at that point, much to the complete dismay of the girl across from me - who incidentally was pretty good looking, but I hadn't even noticed until that point. Why was I like this. A person I'd never met, spoken to and who hadn't even been alive during my lifetime. His story was pretty heartbreaking, especially when narrated by his widow, and it made me look at the direction my band were going in at that time. But most of all I think at that point I realised I had completely misplaced my adoration onto someone who had so many dreadful flaws. So as the sun set on the carriage and I got ready to get off the train, I think I lost a lot of hope in everything for a little while.
Recording albums, despite how amazing it is, makes you realise the conveyor belt nature of making music. The meticulous listening and playing then manifests itself in the way you listen to all music; and as much as I've loved so so much music since then, I always fall prey to the notion to think of the band in the studio going through the motions. This isn't always the case, of course, but it's always there and it's pretty hard to shake off when you've been part of that process. That's what it is, it's a process.
Then I listened to Bill Fay and immediately my heart broke for him. Here he was, 43 years since his first record with only a couple in between, and he's singing to me. I know he's singing directly to me, I can tell. From start to finish the record is impeccable. Hanging on to every word, each time he pauses my heart breaks a little more until he returns with another lyric.
Truth be told I've had something on my mind lately, that I won't talk about purely because there isn't another person in the world who knows what it is, but it's completely consumed me. Probably more than anything has ever consumed me in my life before, and it's made me doubt pretty much everything about myself. Until this happened I had serious reservations about whether or not I could write another album. My ideas were bad, my lyrics were worse and any sense of melody had completely deserted me. Any time I picked up my guitar I seemed to be attempting to write a Travis song; and that is never a good thing. Everything was dormant and there didn't seem to be anything I could do to alter that, no matter how hard I tried. Then 'it' happened and I felt like I'd just woken up from a creative coma. I now have absolutely no doubt I can write (or co-write) another album and I've also got no doubt it'll be better than anything I've ever written before. I guess sometime you need to go through a little heartbreak to get to where you want to be.
This awakening coincided with the first time I listened to Bill Fay and I now find it hard to imagine doing anything other than making music. How can you not be inspired by someone who waited 43 years to release his masterpiece? As I near the end of my 100th listen to this work of genius it really, really hits me. "Cosmic Concerto - Life Is People" is a track only someone who has had the pain of 43 years in the wilderness could produce.
I feel inspired and I feel ready to open up to a new record. Thanks Bill!
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