Album: I Want To See The Bright Lights Tonight
Artist: Richard & Linda Thompson
Born: Notting Hill, London
Released: April 1974
Genre: Electric folk
Influenced: Television, Elvis Costello, The Mekons, Wilco, The Decemberists
Words don't do justice to how much I love & admire this album. Richard Thompson is a genius, of that I have little doubt, and on this album his songwriting and craftmanship really comes to the fore. After leaving Fairport Convention and releasing his first solo album, he met his future wife Linda (a session musician at the time) and this album became the first fruit of that partnership. Together they would convert to Islam, live in communes in London and on the Norfolk-Suffolk border, have children and eventually separate, and Thompson was not afraid to explore their marriage in great detail on record, even when it had broken down by the time of their brilliant 1982 release, Shoot Out The Lights. As with all Richard Thompson records, the guitar playing is first rate, and there's something pre-punk and uniquely British about the sound. When I Get To The Border gets things off to a rousing start, a song about packing in the working week and seeking refuge (where is not clear, but the desire seems more spiritual than literal). Near the end, the track morphs into a jig of electric guitar, concertina, mandolin and various other instruments, an early precursor to the folk punk sound of the Mekons and Pogues.
Calvary Cross is one of the best examples of Thompson's stunning guitar playing, and when played live he would stretch this song into an epic workout. Withered & Died is Linda's first lead vocal on the album and she captures the mood of the mournful, country-tinged lyrics beautifully, with the occasional burst of sunshine breaking through the dark clouds ("once I was bending the tops of the trees / kind words in my ear, kind faces to see"). The album's title track works as a mini-suite with side 1 closer Down Where The Drunkards Roll, the first capturing the excitement of a night out on the tiles and the second plumbing the depths of drunken despair. Linda's singing is so clear and emotive, while Royston Wood's baritone provides a powerful counterpoint, as they explore the dashed hopes and delusions of those who search for meaning in the bottle ("you can be a sailor / who never left dry land"). The tone of the album gets progressively darker on side 2, peaking with the closing song pair of End Of The Rainbow and The Great Valerio. Amid the gloom though is Thompson's very dark brand of humour. Taken literally, End Of The Rainbow is a song from a father to his child saying there's nothing to look forward to ("life seems so rosy in the cradle / but I’ll be a friend, I’ll tell you what’s in store / there’s nothing at the end of the rainbow"), but the bleakness seems too pitch-black for me to believe it's truly meant. The Great Valerio is one of the album's masterpieces and this time the darkness has no light relief. You really have to listen to this song, it's a gripping parable of a tightrope walker and though the meaning is still mysterious to me, it appears to be highlighting the risks that artists take for our entertainment and how the crowd looking up (probably a metaphor for critics) have little appreciation for the sacrifice involved. It also speaks to the loneliness of performance. Like all the best records, this one keeps revealing new layers at each spin.
Words don't do justice to how much I love & admire this album. Richard Thompson is a genius, of that I have little doubt, and on this album his songwriting and craftmanship really comes to the fore. After leaving Fairport Convention and releasing his first solo album, he met his future wife Linda (a session musician at the time) and this album became the first fruit of that partnership. Together they would convert to Islam, live in communes in London and on the Norfolk-Suffolk border, have children and eventually separate, and Thompson was not afraid to explore their marriage in great detail on record, even when it had broken down by the time of their brilliant 1982 release, Shoot Out The Lights. As with all Richard Thompson records, the guitar playing is first rate, and there's something pre-punk and uniquely British about the sound. When I Get To The Border gets things off to a rousing start, a song about packing in the working week and seeking refuge (where is not clear, but the desire seems more spiritual than literal). Near the end, the track morphs into a jig of electric guitar, concertina, mandolin and various other instruments, an early precursor to the folk punk sound of the Mekons and Pogues.
Calvary Cross is one of the best examples of Thompson's stunning guitar playing, and when played live he would stretch this song into an epic workout. Withered & Died is Linda's first lead vocal on the album and she captures the mood of the mournful, country-tinged lyrics beautifully, with the occasional burst of sunshine breaking through the dark clouds ("once I was bending the tops of the trees / kind words in my ear, kind faces to see"). The album's title track works as a mini-suite with side 1 closer Down Where The Drunkards Roll, the first capturing the excitement of a night out on the tiles and the second plumbing the depths of drunken despair. Linda's singing is so clear and emotive, while Royston Wood's baritone provides a powerful counterpoint, as they explore the dashed hopes and delusions of those who search for meaning in the bottle ("you can be a sailor / who never left dry land"). The tone of the album gets progressively darker on side 2, peaking with the closing song pair of End Of The Rainbow and The Great Valerio. Amid the gloom though is Thompson's very dark brand of humour. Taken literally, End Of The Rainbow is a song from a father to his child saying there's nothing to look forward to ("life seems so rosy in the cradle / but I’ll be a friend, I’ll tell you what’s in store / there’s nothing at the end of the rainbow"), but the bleakness seems too pitch-black for me to believe it's truly meant. The Great Valerio is one of the album's masterpieces and this time the darkness has no light relief. You really have to listen to this song, it's a gripping parable of a tightrope walker and though the meaning is still mysterious to me, it appears to be highlighting the risks that artists take for our entertainment and how the crowd looking up (probably a metaphor for critics) have little appreciation for the sacrifice involved. It also speaks to the loneliness of performance. Like all the best records, this one keeps revealing new layers at each spin.
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