I was just a virgin - you were approaching something like that

Continuing my trip up The Guardian's Top 50 Albums of 2021

#46 : Busy Guy - Stephen Fretwell

A songwriters’ songwriter beloved of Elbow and Arctic Monkeys, Stephen Fretwell was washing pots in a Wetherspoon’s pub, his music career having flatlined amid fatherhood. He hauled himself up and gave music another shot, apparently at the cost of his marriage. So these songs are the work of a truly inveterate musician, and it shows – Fretwell has such a natural facility for an affecting turn of melody, his simple fingerpicked guitar made eerie by the subtle ambient tones that sit behind it.

I've heard of Stephen Fretwell and have even written up one of his albums - and during that, I read this article which describes the process of its creation (which was somewhat tortuous) so I was pleased to catch up with it and was expecting to like it.  And I very much did with it containing well-constructed songs, which are made to sound simple but very much aren't, with some great lyrics - "Green" in particular stood out for me with him achingly singing "I should have written all this down, I forget it all now".  The singing isn't always top notch, but you always get the emotion behind it and they're backed by some absolute gorgeous guitar sounds as well.  His track titles are also amusingly obsessed with colours in the second half - "Orange", "Pink" (which has a very odd backing track - it's like a phone alarm going on), "Copper", "Almond" and "Green".

Wikipedia doesn't have anything on the album - or any of his albums, which feels criminal to me.  And his entry is a random collection of sentences - you're better off reading The Guardian article from earlier.  Some quick research elsewhere tells me this got to #37 in the UK - it feels like it could have done better given half a chance.  "Customers also listened to" Turin Brakes, Willy Mason and Hamish Hawk - two of whom I've heard of and they're close, but not quite in the same ballpark.  For me, this album often comes across as something he's not particularly enjoying - something like an exorcism of past missed opportunities.  But it's a very beautiful exorcism and if you like stuff like Nick Drake or Damien Rice then I thoroughly recommend this.

#45 : For Those I Love - For Those I Love

Poignant memories seem to lengthen and soften as we age, but this album is a reminder of how much jagged heft they have when you’re looking back after just a few years or months. David Balfe, 30, reflects on a dead best friend, poverty, trauma and the intense vibrancy of young friendships and creativity, in long recitations set to music that reaches towards techno and house. “You’re told you need to grow cold to grow old,” Balfe says, but he remains charged up with human warmth on these songs.

Never heard of album or artist - and it's hard to know what to expect from the description above.  And having listened to it, it's not exactly easy to describe - "long recitations set to music that reaches towards techno and house" is as good a way as any.  He's not quite ranting but he certainly has some things he want to get off his chest and the backing track doesn't really seem to go with whatever theory he's expounding, but it also doesn't clash with it either.  It reminded me of Faithless in places, but instead of Maxi Jazz's smooth delivery you have Dave's Dublin council estate delivery - forthright and confident, but also aching.

Wikipedia has nothing on the album - his entry says it was well received (and to be honest, that's pretty much all it says).  "Customers also listen to" Squid, Arab Strap and Black Country, New Roads - all of whom I've had some exposure to and I don't quite see the connection.  Overall, I'm not sure I liked this but it's quite an impressive undertaking nonetheless

#48/47 - Two completely new introductions
#44/43 - Do I not like that!?!