John Holden - Rise and Fall

It's an age-old conundrum: when one's debut album had received such considerable critical acclaim, how do you follow it? For John Holden, whose 2018 album 'Capture Light' garnered much praise, that thought may well have been in his mind as he prepared to unleash his sophomore release on the unsuspecting but highly anticipatory public.

How do you follow it? Do you stick with the winning formula and give the people what they love? Well, in John's case, in terms of the ensemble of musicians, yes and no. Still there are Oliver Day on guitars; Peter Jones, Jean Pageau and Joe Payne on vocals; Oliver Wakeman on piano & keyboards; and Billy Sherwood, providing bass this time rather than guitar, but there are a while raft of new musicians added to the crowd, including Michel St-Pere, Vikram Shankar, Sally Minnear and Nick D'Virgilio among many others. This time John has shared the music writing duties in places with Vikram Shankar and Oliver Day, and as before the lyric writing is by John and his now wife Elizabeth.

But what of the music? John has a knack for story-telling, both lyrically and musically, has been evident throughout his output, and this has not changed here. He delves into the more esoteric areas of history with a story of a monk who longed to fly; into addiction, mythology, politics and 'fake news', cultural terrorism, and an overview of earth's history from the perspective of a passing comet.

The opening piano motif to 'Leap of Faith' - a part called 'The Comet' - sets a beautiful contemplative note at the start of the album, reminiscent for me of Danny Manners' work in the opening bars of East Coast Racer (Big Big Train), but the rest of the song opens up in a less abrupt way than the tale of Mallard. The rest of the song is brought wonderfully to life by the vocal talents of Peter Jones, who can himself tell a great story, and the tune soars with the monk, until the realisation: "We can all fly, 'til we hit the ground."

'Rise and Fall' bring the voice of Jean Pageau from Mystery, who gives the song a heartfelt, soulful edge. There's some mournful bass from Jon Camp, a melody that doesn't always go where you expect it, and blistering guitar solos from Oliver Day on lap steel and guitar.

'The Golden Thread' is a quite stunning piece: gentle, lyrical, and orchestral; a love song contemplating the frailty and fragility of life, beautifully sung by Joe Payne and Lauren Nolan. I was privileged to hear this song about 6 months ago, and was struck then by its beauty and simplicity, but the words written by Elizabeth speak very clearly to me now, at a difficult time for my parents. This is just what I need right now.

'The Dark Arts' is a more rocky tune, opening with the wonderfully maleficent tones of Ian Richardson in the guise of Francis Urquart from the BBC's 'House of Cards', and explores the 'fake news' culture that infests modern politics. This is certainly the most up-tempo song so far.

'Heretic' begins with a distinctly Arabic air to it, and touches on religious extremists destroying cultural artifacts that don't fit with their world view, and the pain of those who seek to protect their heritage against such barbarism. Understandably with the subject matter, the mood is somewhat subdued, though there is a note of hope and optimism in the chorus, and an almost strident defiance in the face of the horror. This is a song of hope (as Robert Plant once said...)

'After The Storm' begins, unsurprisingly, with the sound of a storm, then moves into a pleasing 3/4 acoustic guitar tune with what sounds like violin, before piano and guitar take over. The melody is a simple repeated phrase, but Sally Minnear's voice gives it power and passion, with a quite dreamy mood overall. Some very fast guitar work during the instrumental section gives way to ethereal keyboards, before a return to the initial melody. A song about moving on, literally and metaphorically.

'Ancestors and Satellites' has a space-y feel to it to begin with, with synths taking us on a journey into distant realms, both in time and space. Peter Jones leads us from ancient camp fires into the depths of space. The chorus, with its staccato lines, has a slight  vintage Yes feel to it to me, and gives a great shape to the song, and as the liner notes say, it "imagines the chants and magic of those gathered around the ancient fire and how those primitive feelings of belonging, communication and the need to share our stories is still deep within us." The song ends by drawing together the threads of the album, and quietly restating the piano motif from the opening track before an echo of 'We can all fly...'.

This, like its predecessor, is a grower: every listen reveals more depth and wonder to the listener. The songs showcase some amazing talent in the music scene at present, but also an amazing song-writing pair in John & Elizabeth. This is progressive music at its best - up-to-date yet rooted in the measures and patterns of the past. This album will, I have little doubt, be high on many lists come the end of 2020. Thank you, John, for another stunner!