Every Soul’s A Sailor – Stephen Fearing
“Every Souls A Sailor Rolling on the Deep / The Tinker and the Tailor, the Beggar and the Thief”
It would be delirious to suggest that Stephen Fearing is the best folk singer ever to hail from Canada. Harder still perhaps, to suggest him the finest from Ireland, where he spent many years as a nipper. It is not at all inflammatory however, to mention his name in the same breath as Messrs Young and Cohen. I imagine they’d be pleasantly incorporating of the comparison. He is in the same sentence as Joni Mitchell, not Justin Bieber. The same as Van Morrison and not Niall Horan. Fearing’s latest offering is the first of his work I have had the pleasure of perusing. It’s a folkish jaunt down memory lane, a charismatic cruise through genre and a wondrous release from the wicked world that is 2017.
The deep, echoing guitars and soul fill that start Put Your Money Where Your Mouth Is are reminiscent of a sound that’s hard to place at first. Then it hits me – Crowded House. The opening bars immediately say Fall at Your Feet. And when Fearing starts to sing, it becomes Four Seasons in One Day. The tonal mix, instrumental base and high pitched vocals are a perfect blend. Of course, Fearing’s opening track has a devlish undercurrent never to be heard on a Crowded House track. It’s a pleasant start, but I wonder what I’m in for, unsure if I could cope with nine more of the same.
Red Lights in The Rain smashes those doubts into the stratosphere. It’s a glorious western lullaby. It has the rhythm of The City of New Orleans, with an earthy longing the likes of an Ed Bruce, a Haggard or a Hank procured time and time again. The guitars and the voice bare an uncanny resemblance to Mark Knopfler on this one, the song sounding like it’s just waking up from a deep sleep the whole way through. It’s a perfect segway towards the rest of the album.
Blowhard is keepin’ it country, and what a barnstormer! I don’t wanna live in a blowhard nation / with the king in a tinselly crown Fearing professes as he brings the fight Springsteen style to the establishment. It is thus, and will perhaps remain, the most perfect opening lyric of 2017. I wish someone had sung it a certain inauguration. ‘It’s like a bad tattoo / Now there’s nothing you can do’ he wails, before longing for a stiff drink. I’ll take one of those!
The Things We Did is the stand out. Fearing flummoxes us with another curve ball. Channelling Randy Newman in sound and in nature, he juxtaposes jovial beats with humorously dark lyrics. It’s getting late and the reaper won’t wait / It’s time for me to set my story down. The story of a man who is responsible for the obituary column in the local paper, it gives the listener a quirky perspective on their own sense of mortality.
Gone But Not Forgotten has a touch of the Warren Zevon’s about it, the latest in a smorgasbord of brilliant musicians I’m laying comparison too – but it truly is that diverse. It’s sad Zevon. The best Zevon. Backing vocals from Rose Cousins add to the heartbreak. The track finishes with a despairing lyric – Gone but not forgotten/ Pass around the wine / Faces we remember from the old days / And the good times. A perfect summary.
Love The Deal is a cracker. It’s desperation dancing to a different tune. What if you fail? What if you succeed? / You got no control. You got no guarantees. Ain’t that the damn truth. If you love to live the game / Then learn to love the deal. I can’t wait for the Lucinda Williams cover.
Carousel is the second song from the album that I’m sure I heard on a Zevon ‘Best Of’ CD. It’s the storytelling so synonymous with the folk singers and Canyon dwellers of the 70’s. Fearing channels that feeling gloriously into a crooning soft ballad. The lyrics are heartbreakingly funny again. I know it’s hard to see, you keep walking into walls / Queensbury means nothing when you’re in a bar room brawl. That is an exquisite line, one rarely written this decade (Newman’s Putin’s puttin’ his pants on aside). It’s relatable again – at some point we’ve all been in a rut. We’ve all been stuck going round and round. Old Friend / Why do you deny yourself? / Why do you pretend? We’ll get by with a little help from our mates, four blokes from Liverpool once said.
Love Like Water oozes the blues. It combines the funky feel of the old time banjo players with the twentieth century twist of todays blues troubadours. It’s the coldest, coolest, purest rock & roll offering on the album. Elbow. Black Keys. They’d have loved to written this track.
Better Than Good lays the biggest uppercut curveball of the lot. It’s a straight up, classic love track. It feels like one of three things: A chart topper from that peculiar period in the 90’s; The ‘slow jam’ offering of a classic hard rock band or; The Act 1 to Act 2 transition song in the new Andrew Lloyd Webber musical. I’d like to clarify that none of these are negatives! It works well, adds a different spice and further shows off Fearing’s musical range. Lloyd Webber should stop now though, please.
Sick of the Zevon comparisons or room for one more? Fearing rounds off with the albums namesake, Every Soul’s a Sailor. Straight away you feel stranded at sea, those Knopfler guitars slowly waking up again, his voice distant and deep. The winners and the failers / The shepherd and the sheep / Every Souls a Sailor / Rolling on the deep. It feels like Mutineer and not just due to the nautical theme (I was born to rock the boat / Someone will sink but we will float / Grab your coat let’s get out of here), but surely due to the message too.
Fearing possesses an ability to funnel themes through a kaleidoscope of genres and musical styles. He’s clearly a student of his craft, a fan of music – all music! No he’s not Neil Young and no he is not Van Morrison either. But he is Stephen Fearing. And Stephen Fearing is damn good too.
The French Inhaler
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