David G Cox – David G Cox

Summer is here – there’s been more than two consecutive days of sun so it’s safe to assume that’s the case – so what better way to spend your time than grabbing a bottle of rum in a jug marked XXX and stepping aboard a rickety ship?

Just to get you in the mood, David G Cox kicks his album off with the remarkably atmospheric ‘The Serpents Tale’. A ribald blues based sea shanty that has everythit the time travelling sea-faring salty dog requires bar the creak of the rigging. Still there are some wonderfully weary trumpets weaving in and out of the down tempo swagger laid down by the rhythm section. Then there’s his voice, which on this track at least, sounds not unlike the guttural mutterings of Tom Waits (elsewhere there’s evidence of a Nick Cave like conversational style). Backed up by the heavenly vocals of Lucy Wolford who states victoriously “if we’re going to go down, then we go down singing” ‘The Serpent’s Tale’ is an introduction into a strange smoky world that is seemingly from a different age entirely.

That Mr Cox is currently studying a PhD in black American Folklore and Gospel comes as no surprise whatsoever as the album progresses. While the majority of the songs on this, his debut album, are definitely engrained with the spirit of blues, there’s a lot more going on than a simple waltz up and down a simplistic scale or trotting out the same old chord progressions. Naturally there are also elements of gospel throughout, but Cox also makes room for bluegrass, straight forward folk, spirituals, sea shanties, and country. Each of these tracks is strangely delicate, but also steeped in an ambience that is distinctly uncertain. ‘Merry Go Round’ for example is a basic waltzing folk song, but his croaking vocals find their way into the consciousness like cigar smoking tic – he might sound gentle, but there’s hurt in his voice. When juxtaposed with the raindrop light glockenspiel notes and the wistful Wolford’s voice the poignancy of this tale of remembrance is incredible.

Song #7 takes ‘Hit The Road Jack’ and hits the road with a swing in its step that has the confidence of a drunken lothario. The soaring harmonica solo is perfectly placed at the mid-point breakdown. Speakeasy smoke twirls from the speakers as this heavy Saturday night story reaches its all too predictable end.

‘She Moves Through The Blue’ is haunting blues, augmented with harp and ghostly backing vocals, but its Cox’s voice that steals the show. Drenched in reverb and relating another narrative dripping in pain and personal torment, he takes on the role of the leather skinned alcoholic that sits at the end of the bar in last chance saloon telling anyone who should drift into earshot about the regrets of his mostly regret filled life. Tobacco stains are evident on every word.

With ‘Please Don’t Cry’ treads a similar line to Spiritualized in that it successfully couples pain with the redemptive qualities of music that accompany it. The howl of the harmonica could break hearts, if the sorrowful lyrics hadn’t got there first. It might not be as bombastic as some of J Spaceman’s outpourings, but there is an undeniable link there.

He closes with two of his finest moments in ‘When The Sky Turned Red’ and ‘House of Cards’. Once again, the minimal folk of ‘When The Sky Turned Red’ is awash with disturbing imagery and regret, a theme that features heavily on these songs. Blades on skin, drunkenness, the sky turning bloody, and it goes without saying, a dash of pain. Yet despite the darkness that resides in the heart on the song, it retains a wash of beauty and hope. It’s this deftness with his lyrics that means that Cox is able to write hugely affecting songs that aren’t as dour and introspective as they might be in less capable hands.

‘House of Cards’ closes with a woozy Parisian feel. A hymnal chorus mixes things up further as Cox’s innocent sounding paean to the glories of drinking is mumbled from the gutters to the stars.

This is a wonderfully inspired debut full of depth and wonderful performances from Cox and his cohorts. Full of Southern blues, loneliness, pain and a drunken assuredness there will be few better debuts this year. We raise a glass to Mr David G Cox.