Closed Gone Fishing - Louis Gordon (Black Spot, July 2006)
Imagine if you will a recording studio tucked away cottage in Herefordshire, far from the shifting city of Manchester and the headlights of a million cars. The sort of place where you get away from all that you have become to re-evaluate who you actually are. It’s between sessions, and there is a hand-written sign pinned to the door - defiantly turning away the John Foxx fans who have come along wanting to know a little more about what makes their hero’s collaborator tick.
Acoustic guitar, apparently. And fishing.
Louis Gordon’s first solo album comes from the heart, a sit-back and relax collection of easy to get, fun and surprisingly clever songs that belie the electronic madman you might have expected.
‘Closed, Gone Fishing’ meanders along at first in its upper reaches, like the stream above a mill, gently rippling over the pebbles of fond recollection, and described by ‘The Fish’ as a collection of jigs, reels and sea-shanties. ‘I’m Not Wanted’, for instance, is both charming and naive, and ‘The Ballad of Johnny Ball’ is slightly silly and superficially lackadaisical, and until you arrive at ‘Space Age Love Song’ it feels as if you’ve been carried down river in an upturned umbrella. But approaching ‘Bridges 5, 6 and 7’, the water gets deeper and forms a pool, where fishermen appear on the banks here and there, watching and waiting.
Instead of just drifting along, you start to feel the pull of the current, swirling with ideas, some audaciously thrown in higher upstream during those Crash and Burn sessions with the distinctly absent Foxx.
This bridge, leading to the millhouse itself, marks a turning point in the albumriver, as if it should be the start of Side Two. Nice touch. It’s significantly more mature and accomplished than any other so far. The man has found control of his oars and is steering with confidence through his comfort zone and exploring his influences. But among the reeds of Revolver, he’s not sleeping. Just Fishing. Without the backwards guitar.
The water is stronger now alongside the wood, widening in texture. The songs are specimens of structure and form, beautifully crafted - ‘Shady Grady’ is a masterpiece and worthy of so much more exposure. Psychedelic folk music, whittled out of English oaks and majestic ARPs; birdsong and brass bands; affection, humility and humour - you just have to sing along with ‘I Wrote you A Song’. Even that rhymes...
Going into ‘The Millers Mile’ among the coracles, you can almost hear the commentary and the laughter born of self-assurance. Only in England.
And when its over, too quickly, you realise it was a Great Little Journey and worth the detour. Quite a hippy happy and refreshing trip.
Louis Gordon has always made all kinds of music, but until now music that only a privileged few will have heard before.
So unplug the machines, leave your maps on the porch, and walk down to the river bank.
Sit quietly beside him and cast a line - you might just catch something.
© Birdsong, February 2008.
