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In the pantheon of great weavers of words, Liverpool has spawned many greats, think Bainbridge, Bleasdale, Henri, Lane, McGough, McGovern and Patten. Sharpen the focus to those specifically involved in music and the likes of Broudie, Costello, Cope, and Mavers join Lennon and McCartney in the Great Room, reserved for the finest of lyricists. The quality of songwriting on previous albums, Harrowby Road, The Lost Estates and Hoping For Purgatory, together with this latest release, suggests that it would not be a flight of fancy to propound the view that Bluenose B is very firmly knocking on the same door.
Liverpudlian songwriter Stephen Lawson created Bluenose Bas a personal collective music project back in 1983. Initially part of the post-punk second Liverpool invasion, playing in bands alongside the likes of The Teardrop Explodes and Echo & The Bunnymen, and garnering support from the likes of the N.M.E, Janice Long and John Peel, Bluenose B have transmuted stylistically over the years, with Stephen more recently having taken the role of songwriter joined by musical friends.
Raised on a tough “lost estate”, to which he returned after qualifying as a mental health professional, his work has been somewhat characterised, most notably on The Lost Estates, through the telling of emotive stories which reflect the reality of those left on the margins, whilst Hoping For Purgatory was, ostensibly, an album about love.
Once again, on Minstrel Of The Wasteland, Stephen takes centre-stage, creating an album that reveals more introspection than previously. The 14 tracks recount tales of love, good—lost and bad—regretted, missed opportunities, and pleasant occasions with close friends, together with a final, personal rumination. The relentless and unstoppable passing of time and its incumbent effects permeate the album, providing much thought for reflection from the listener.
With Stephen providing keyboards and vocals, he is once again joined by long-term friend and musical associate John Kettle on guitars and vocals, with additional contributions from other Merry Hell members- Virginia Kettle on vocals and Simon Swarbrick on fiddle and string arrangements, together with vocal contributions from his sister, Rachel Lawson. All lyrics are written by Stephen, with music credited to Stephen and John, who also engineered, produced and mastered the album.
The opening title track, Minstrel Of The Wasteland, is a monumental, albeit nightmarish and Orwellian, tour de force. Based on a short story written by Stephen, the song presents a near-future vision in which music is outlawed and messages of love and hope result in musicians being punished. We follow the journey of a minstrel as he bravely seeks a legendary songwriter who has thrown down the gauntlet to the oppressive authorities by playing a prohibited song offering hope and unity. The guitar and strings create a widescreen soundscape, think Morricone, with Stephen’s clear vocals much to the fore; for those unaware of Lawson, Martyn Joseph might be a touchstone. As John contributes two coruscating electric guitar solos and the merest hint of Simon’s fiddle sporadically shines through, this powerful message of intent will surely engage the listener and encourage exploration of the remainder of the release.
A special mention must be made of the song’s accompanying video, which can be found here, produced by Stephen’s former musical colleague and ex-Merry Hell violinist Neil McCartney at his Salty Dog Farm studio in Thailand. It is a stunning visual journey through the dystopian, post-apocalyptic wasteland created in the song. Utilising AI images which have been generated through Stephen’s descriptions of his friends and fellow musicians, the release also comes with a glossy bande dessinée/manga-style comic featuring stills taken from the video, the representation of John Kettle being particularly chilling, a cross between Seasick Steve and Warren Ellis.
Ride, with its 90s indie feel, sees the mood changing. Presenting as a jaunty, upbeat piece, with what sounds like brass being emulated on the keys within the chorus, the lyrical message contained in lines such as “don’t wanna ride this bike no more” might be intended to be taken literally, or perhaps it is a metaphor, and there is a darker message contained therein, “I want me a salesman, Who can sell me my end…That drive me to the wall, Drive me to the fall, That finish off the job.”
The reverberating opening bars of Raise A Glass (not playing golf) sound like something from Bruce Springsteen & The E Street Band, a thought somewhat reinforced when Simon’s effervescent fiddle kicks in too. Another busy and buoyant track, the rousing, anthemic chorus “So raise, raise a glass with me, who knows where we’ll be this time next year” will resonate with many, and should certainly, from a musical perspective, appeal to fans of Merry Hell.
Once again, a change of tempo and mood is effected, this time with the album’s only instrumental track, Madre. The gentle, soporific acoustic guitars create a Spanish feel reflecting the song’s title, together with the insistent percussion beats that transport you away to idyllic Iberian climes.
John’s electric guitar introduces another optimistic, up-tempo piece, the cracking By My Side. With Stephen’s sister Rachel providing vocals which extoll the virtues of togetherness, harmony and brotherly/sisterly love, “we’re alright when we’re side by side”, this track is another candidate for an imaginary “Message For Our Times” playlist.
This time, Stephen shares vocal duties with Virginia as the tempo slows once more on Samantha MacCann, a track on which Simon’s subtle fiddle touches add colour to a wonderful melody. His playing features heavily on the next song, My Girl Summer. After another fine electric guitar opening, the listener is treated to another gloriously breezy, fast-paced outing which displays a masterly use of hook lines and chorus; a song for summer indeed.
Following a brief return to Iberia, and further guitar artistry from John, courtesy of yet another radiant song, Spanish Sun, Rachel makes her second contribution to the album as she performs a beautiful duet with her brother on Sweet Release. With her assured and warm voice, it is difficult to believe that this album is her recording debut. The slower tempo and acoustic guitar, alongside Simon’s emotive fiddle playing, are the perfect accompaniment to the contemplative lyrics, possibly suggesting the ultimate ‘sweet release’.
Knowing You, a warm-hearted offering bookended with psychy, swirling notes, has, as its musical filling, a lush, string-heavy, waltz shuffle, leading into a possibly autobiographical, The Trap, in which the carefree tune belies the lyrical content, as the female protagonist poignantly inquires of the composer, “I wonder if you ever felt loved, wonder if you ever felt true love” before further confessional revelations lead to a final:
“You don’t deserve to feel the warmth of
Don’t deserve to feel the warmth of love
And the response
I don’t deserve to feel the warmth of
Don’t deserve to feel the warmth of love”
The laid-back, almost bucolic, feel of the love song Sing immediately transforms the tone and mood before Springsteen-like chords again presage a memorable song, this time Walk Out Your Door. Could this be a song of escape, or a dream? Certainly, the espousal of a better world for all is one to which most will subscribe, and, as throughout this album, John’s guitar contributions here demonstrate what a truly masterful player he is.
An acoustic opening heralds the closing track, Time Is Quicker Than Me, a final stitch in the ‘time’ thread running through much of the release. Very much a personal reflection, the song tells of how the years have taken their toll on his father’s street-fighting prowess.
“There’s a man in our street
Not too good on his feet
He’s seen battles
His bones have been cracked
By so many attacks through the years”
Whilst the pugilistic aspects may not resonate, there will surely be much empathy from many listeners, including this one, with the sentiment “And though I was fast time will always laugh last.”
Indie-folk, neo-folk, folk-pop? Whatever the label, or lack of (my preference), the music of Bluenose B, aka Stephen Lawson, speaks for itself. With top-drawer production values, Minstrel Of The Wasteland is often compelling, always accomplished and polished, but, above all, a most satisfying, rewarding and enjoyable listen.
Released on CD, as well as available to download and stream from the usual sources, Bluenose B/Stephen will be visiting Ian Prowse’s Monday Club at The Cavern, Liverpool, on 2nd September to share a few songs and will be accompanied by John Kettle on guitar.
