Clearly someone who’s never subscribed to U2’S assertion that “ambition bites the nails of success”, Lancastrian singer/ songwriter with a difference GLYN BAILEY has been positively revelling in his glorious obscurity for years. In the press release for his third LP ‘The Disturbance’, he celebrates his under the radar stance, stating “some seek obscurity; others have it thrust upon them.”
The sad fact of the matter is that he’s probably right. While I’m loathe to admit it, the terminally ailing music industry has long since turned its’ back on smart, cerebral thorns in the side like Bailey. Critics can man the rooftops and shout of his merits until the cows troop on home, but in the 2011 scheme of things they probably won’t get him a sniff of a record deal, never mind help him sell decent amounts of records. Thankfully, Bailey has no problem swallowing this unfairly bitter pill and going his own sweet way regardless. For this, I’m truly thankful, for his new album is his third great record in a row, following on from 2005’s ‘Toys from Balsa’ and 2007’s ‘Songs from the Old Illawalla.’ Hearteningly, Bailey has gained a full (and pretty virtuosic) band, The Many Splendid Things, since his last outing, although there’s continuity of sorts as lead guitarist Phil Senior was also instrumental in bringing ‘Songs from the Old Illawalla’ to fruition. ‘...Illawalla’ was flush with songs about everything from the 2006 World Cup to paedophile clowns and the dubious wisdom of attending school reunions, but Bailey’s clearly not lost his touch or his splendidly skewhiff take on the madness of the world around him over the past three years. This time, the subject matter takes in Marc Bolan’s final mini ride, the unintentionally negative influences your family thrust upon you and (I think) Louis Walsh, but whatever the vignette, it’s always thought-provoking and vividly realized. While ‘The Disturbance’ is primarily an Indie-going-on-Rock record, its sonic palette is refreshingly broad. Opening track ‘The Old Illawalla’ references his previous album, but it’s surprisingly atmospheric and hard-rocking and could almost be early Faith No More if you squint hard enough. The lyrics present an intriguing slant on the old Blues man’s pact with the devil at the crossroads (“Satan came and we made a trade/ my mortal soul for wealth and fame”) while what sounds like an order of Gregorian Monks drop by to add backing vocals. Elsewhere, songs like ‘Louis’ and the urgent parental advice commentary ‘Fuktup’ (sic) also rock pretty hard, while the feedback and dissonance only serve to ramp up the tale of an isolated loon with kidnap, terror and the apocalypse in mind (“when it all kicks off, I’ll be listening to God and the BBC”) on the evocative ‘BBC Bunker’. Tracks like ‘Beautiful Corpse’, the XTC-ish ‘God for the Day’ and ‘The Bolan Tree’ are superficially more standard Indie guitar fare, though the latter’s bizarre take on Marc Bolan’s tragic final taxi to Barnes Common (“we’ll meet less than a mile from home/ waiting is a casket dressed with pure white swan”) exists in a macabre, but graceful place that’s very much of its’ own design. It’s creepy stuff, but not half as goose-pimple inducing as the clammy and voyeuristic ‘Waiting Game’ which supplies a finale almost as unwholesome as ‘Home Again’ did on The Auteurs’ debut album ‘New Wave’. Ultimately, ‘The Disturbance’ probably won’t even throw a brick through a window, never mind start a riot commercially, but that doesn’t alter the fact it’s a really good record. If you like your mavericks on the erudite side, you should give Glyn Bailey a chance. He makes languishing in obscurity sound pretty damn vital to these ears. Link |
Here’s an unusual item – and album that operates within a bunch of subgenres that generally wouldn’t float my particular boat, yet through the sheer lyrical wit and musical literacy of the creators, manages to captivate. Glyn Bailey, it would seem is something of an undiscovered genius. He’s been toiling away for some years without any great recognition, and like many singular talents, his determination to relentlessly plough his own furrow is now delivering aesthetic, if not commercial dividends. The Disturbance is an album that defies easy categorisation – One can’t blithely state what it’s like as the ten song set encompasses such a wide ambit that it could almost be viewed as a form of sampler. Bailey possesses an impressive vocal talent that lends itself to any number of modes, and this serves to afford him a far larger sandpit to play in than is the case with many artists. There’s no core theme here, each of the songs is markedly different from the other nine, but threads of dark humour and cinematic sensibility infuse the whole album. The scope is impressive; opener ‘The Old Illawalla’ is a quirky, Levantine track with a strong narrative lyric that sounds a little like the Dancing Did have been plopped down in the middle of some medina or other. Bailey’s Cave/Brel influences are evident in ‘Beautiful Corpse’, a rolling, witty number that is notable for the accomplished-yet-accessible arrangement. From this, we lurch into ‘Fuktup’ – a slice of mutant indie newpop that evokes the spirit of Josef K (the band, not Kafka’s protagonist) and sees lyrical directness juxtaposed against a polished production. Bailey and his Things tread a tricky line with aplomb – material that could otherwise be viewed as being undermined by either whimsical novelty, or self-regarding cleverness, is delivered with verve and élan, the band’s sure-footed musicality and sharply observed lyrics enabling an amusing bar room pastiche such as ‘God For The Day’ to transcend any hint of becoming the Eric Idle-meets-Lieutenant Pigeon mash up it may have become in less skilled hands. Similarly, the elegiac ‘The Bolan Tree’ is wistful and evocative where it could so easily have become lachrymose and saccharine. ‘Louis’ is possibly the album’s standout track – a thoroughly groovy blaxploitation style funk workout topped by some Cave/Bowie/Pop lyrics. The subsequent ‘Traffic Light Man’ also contains hints of the divine Ig, seething out of the speakers like one of Mr Osterburg’s more reflective numbers. ‘BBC Bunker’ is another track notable for lyrical wit, being a clever, funny and enjoyable dissection of the survivalist mindset. The humour is almost wholly crepuscular in tone, with the grimly amusing ‘Cherry Tree’ being a well constructed anniversary waltz at the Tyburn. The sparse, creeping ‘Waiting Game’ rounds out The Disturbance with a Jacques Brel referencing slice of self-examination. It’s an unusual album, but then who wants usual? Link |
You could be forgiven for thinking from the thumping drum, hushed vocals and chunking chords that open Glyn Bailey and The Many Splendid Things’ ‘The Disturbance’ that you’re about to embark on some metallic outing. It doesn’t last (though it does return on the bridge), for despite some remarkable sizzling leads to Phil Seniors’ guitar work (get this man in a power metal tribute band, fast!), Mr. Bailey is more of a raconteur of strange tales and peculiar characters in the mode of Anton Barbeau, Robyn Hitchcock, Peter Daltrey and most particularly Paul Roland. Next he’s crooning about “a beautiful man” - an actor don’t you know - who turns into the song’s titular ‘Beautiful Corpse’. From there he’s testing his higher register and the extent to which his keyboardist can emulate the sound of Siouxsie Sioux’s 'Hong Kong Garden' in the timeworn lament of a man whose totally blown it on ‘Fuktup’. There’s a certain tongue-in-cheek quality to Bailey’s writing, most evident on ‘God for a Day’, which asks what you’d do, delivered in slightly David Bowie-esque tones and accompanied by some rolly-polly piano. (The answer seems to be “admit nothing.”) The tinkling bells and acoustic guitar of ‘The Bolan Tree’ are apparently meant to invoke the “elfin prince of pop” - that is Marc, circa his more folkie work ... or is it a tribute to the fatal accident? ‘Louis’, pursuer of weirdos, is the protagonist of the song for which he’s named, a slice of fairly uptempo pop rock with a suave, organ driven edge. ‘Traffic Light Man’ is perhaps the most Hitchcockian tune on the album, dwelling as it does on the deeper thoughts of the little chap who tells you when to stop or go. ‘BBC Bunker’ gets a little heavier as the singer inhabits the personality of a survivalist plotting his post-apocalyptic rein of broadcasting. Not easy to do when there’s jaunty piano al over your choruses. By comparison, ‘Cherry Tree’ is a more straight-forward tale of love and love lost, albeit with slightly obsessive overtones, and ‘Waiting Game’ ends something on a distinctly downbeat note. ‘The Disturbance’ is probably an acquired taste, but those who like their British pop musicians wilfully eccentric could find it a winner. Reviewed By: Andrew Carver Link |
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Glyn Bailey was the first person to ever send a CD in to be featured back in 2007 (Songs From The Old Illawalla) so he is a big part of TunA history (what little we have ) and he's done it again by popping his new album The Disturbance in the post. It's an interesting and very varied body of work with strains of Bowie, Pink Floyd, Nick Cave and Gabriel-era Genesis running through it. Well worth checking out and you can download it here http://www.tunatheday.com/go/mix/showmix(869) Link |
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All too often we hear the adjective ‘wordsmith’ applied to a musician and one can generally infer quite the opposite; for the main, they’re simply a slave to the books they’ve read, casting off allusions and sacrificing true evocation for shopping list of literary references. Sure, it’s preferable to those rake thin indie waifs that warble inaudibly about cash-points and tenements but still, it is on occasion, inescapably smug. However, Glynn Bailey and the Many Splendid Things seem to brush aside such criticisms and pratfalls through relying on a seeping font of song ideas fleshed out by creative musicians. Nowhere better can this can be observed than on album opener ‘Old Illawalla’. There’s an excellent cut price Queen-styled accompaniment (there’s no shame in that, Queen rocked more than any other current Englishmen alive) which, combined with Bailey’s vocals; a fascinating merging of Neil Hannon and a pantomime monster incarnation of Jarvis Cocker, paints a Robert Johnson-esque scene of the devils’ music played and ultimately paid for. Elsewhere, the orchestrated discordance of ‘Fuktup’ fleetingly brings to mind Robert Fripp’s playing on Bowie’s Scary Monsters album. Though there’s always an underlying power of song writing that is enhanced by these musical inventions, Bailey never lets his words become lost amongst them. That said, there are a lot of concepts running throughout and the album does jump about thematically; the listener’s tolerance of them will depend entirely on whether they find this kind of literate writing clever or merely trying to be clever. Personally, I’m of the opinion that the amount of ideas on display here buys Glyn some considerable respite from his more indulgent moments in an album that’s peppered alternately with rockers, sweet reflective affairs and others like ‘Cherry Tree’ that might be trying a little too hard to be reflective. Words by: Daniel Burt Link |
"The Disturbance" is a great name for an album, particularly one that full of dark tales and that philosophy of 'play hard, live fast, die you, leave a beautiful corpse. Glyn Bailey & The Many Spendid Things have delivered an album of pomp rock perfection. Check out "The Bolan Tree" a track that is at least as good a death disk as Terry's "Twinkle", though somewhat darker for it being a real road death an all. There's a feel of The Divine Comedy meets Screaming Lord Sutch. Pub piano meeting funky guitar. Wit and whimsey finding a ghost story. Link |
Glyn Bailey has put together an amusing press release for this album; one that talks in volumes about the futility of trying to compete with haircut bands and scenes created by those more interested in fashion than the value of a decent tune. “The Disturbance” can at times be fairly dark and draconian, tipping in the odd sub death metal riff, whilst seeking to unsettle purely on the basis of a refined, gentlemanly delivery. The melee that follows, takes further cues from a kind of pop prog play and of course the rock of the 80’s. It’s Bailey’s voice though that sounds mysteriously like Bowie on album highlight “Fuktup”. Glyn Bailey and The Many Splendid Things are a kind of Manchester scene house band; they’ve soaked in a range of influences to come up with songs like “Louis” – again there’s a stage musical feel to proceedings, marked maybe by the fun and strangeness of the things that made the Blues Brothers film a compelling statement. The guitars and execution are beyond reproach – some of the guitar breaks are stunning. Again “Traffic Light Man” sounds like a long lost Bowie track, with lyrics based the three colour change of a traffic light management system. It was once suggested that Glyn Bailey was probably bonkers but in the nicest way possible. This album proves he’s a thinker, who along with his band, can summon up some highly original and entertaining material – unique and the city would be a poorer place without talented exponents such as this. Link |
Also opening with an eastern influenced Zeppelin-esque track, this time of a noisier persuasion, Glyn Bailey and the many splendid things pack “The Disturbance”, their latest album with a whole host of styles and influences including the guitar driven “The Old Illawalla”, which is the perfect start, the tale of a pact with satan and an old trunk. As with his other albums, it is the lyrics that hook the listener in, the music adding weight to the words, reminiscent of the finer moments of Paul Roland, in their strangeness, with songs about being God for the day and the tree that killed Marc Bolan scattered amongst the gems within. In fact, “The Bolan Tree” is one of the album highlights, filled with twinkling piano and a catchy chorus. Another highlight is “Louis” a song about Louis Theroux, that has a rocky glam guitar riff, complete with a cowbell and a touch of funky horns. Across ten songs the album holds your attention, sounding like a classic seventies album, shades of Cockney Rebel or Be-Bop Deluxe also making appearance. Great stuff and well worth hearing. Link |
Introducing Glyn Bailey into your life is a strange experience. Hearing the opening few seconds of the first track on this album, ‘The Old Illawalla’ made me think I was in for the theme to “The Good, The Bad And The Ugly”. The rest of the CD takes you here, there and everywhere. And then it drops you off feeling rather puzzled. All the songs have a certain something - the frustration waiting to explode behind ‘Traffic Light Man’ and ‘Waiting Game’, or the plain oddity of ‘BBC Bunker’ and ‘The Bolan Tree’. Glyn Bailey has experienced the rich tapestry of life, which comes across in the variety available here. It isn’t rock, it isn’t indie, country, folk. Whatever. Make your own mind up. But when the guy gets an endorsement from footballer Andy Ritchie then you know that you are dealing with serious business here. As for an overview of ‘The Disturbance’, I spent a lot of time scratching my head. I decided I couldn’t possibly put it better than this line, taken from the band’s website... “The ten songs narrate one strange tale after another, varying the viewpoint between protagonist, victim or observer, prying into life’s complexities and contradictions.” Yes, that just about sums it up. The listener is invited to explore the various levels of depth in this album. Maybe if I had more time to listen to it over and over again then it might all become clear to me. I find it difficult to enthuse about ‘The Disturbance’. Not the greatest album I’ll ever hear, but nor is it the worst. Just somewhere in the middle. But I’m happy to say that the varied styles contained here help to provide an interesting listen. Strange. But interesting. Roger Green Link |
Halloween has just been and gone, and it seems quite fitting to be listening to this album. This is Glyn Bailey’s third album, but the first with his accompanying band. Glyn Bailey has some strange tales and a range of ideas that he relays to us over wailing guitars, piano, and a range of other sounds. ‘Prog’ was the first word that occurred to me on my initial listen; but actually, it’s not a particularly fitting description at all. Power chords and concept writing may be at work here at times, but the songs aren’t very long, have a clearly recognisable structure and at times have a pop element to them. The feel of the album is quite retro, and more specifically, seventies. Glyn Bailey sounds like a quite a showman in the old school sense, and his delivery varies throughout the album – sometimes singing, sometimes talking, sometimes something halfway in-between. At times he reminded me of Jarvis Cocker, at other points of Neil Hannon. The album opens with the powerful ‘Old Illawalla’. It’s a punchy start to the album, with driving chords and an atmospheric delivery. If you aren’t humming the hook for this song after three listens when you’re least expecting it, there’s something wrong with you. Although I’m not sure how tongue in cheek this album is, I suspect it was compiled with wry smile at the very least. For example, the track ‘Louis’ appears to be about Louis Theroux - ‘Bring me your freaks, bring me your psychos, bring me your porn stars’. Whereas, ‘Bolan Tree’ is about, yes, you’ve guessed it, the tree at which a certain star met his end. This is actually a rather lovely song, with some nice vocal parts, and a flowing piano accompaniment. One aspect of the album that I admire is the thought that has been taken in delivering ideas and themes. I couldn’t help but focus on the lyrics, and at times this did mean that elements of the music swept over me. I also wasn’t sure whether the songs are intended to link to each other. I initially looked for a linking theme, and then chose to treat them as individual stories and ideas. Having said that, I’m still thinking about a theme now. The press release for this album states that ‘Glyn Bailey accepts that he might never be a competitor in what remains of the music market of today, but then he stopped caring about that sort of thing years ago’. Well good on you Mr Bailey. You may just have won me round to your way of thinking. Link |
Where to start with this review then... well, with an apology I guess. I've been meaning to write this for around a month now, but have been playing so many gigs and doing so many other bits and pieces myself, that I've not had the time... well, that's the official line anyway, though I'm sure a certain amount of abject laziness is inherent to the delay. Either way, it's certainly no indictment of the album itself that it's taken me so long, though you definitely have to come at 'The Disturbance' from an oblique angle! It's one of the oddest things I've heard in a long time: it opens with what sounds like a cross between a chanting pirate sea-shanty, a gothic synth tune, some '80s shit-metal (it's a genre to me) and the soundtrack from an action B-movie (I'm thinking "Doom" with The Rock here)... ... but in a good way... ... maybe... I'm not really sure: do synths, finger-tapping shredded guitar solos, power chords, gang vocals and a heavy stomping bass-line - along with (perversely) an acoustic guitar - all mashed up in the guise of a pirate sea-shanty, go together? All of these abound in 'The Old Illawalla,' so whether they go together or not, that's what you're getting. The oddity continues with the next few tracks: track two is almost a Hammer Horror theme tune, which I guess fits with the subject matter of a song called 'Beautiful Corpse.' Track three moves away from this horror theme, but sticks with the B-movie soundtrack feel as Roxy Music is crossed with a '50s American robot film trailer and Frank Zappa goofiness - both in the vocal and in the track name: 'Fuktup.' Track four, 'God for the Day,' is the theme tune from Monty Python's The Meaning of Life as sung by Frank Zappa... but not as funny. I'm not sure if it's meant to be funny at all, but I do know it's utter plagiarism! If I was Eric Idle, I'd have a thing or two to say about it, ha. Track five has a sort of '60s hippy influenced feel to it, and is seemingly an homage to Mark Bolan - it's called 'The Bolan Tree.' I'm sure, like the rest of the album, it's hugely tongue in cheek, but this rubs off to make sound a bit like one of the set piece songs from The Mighty Boosh. I quite like that though, in an odd way that I'm not totally sure I'm happy about. To be honest, I could continue to give a track-by-wacky-track review of the album, but I think you get the picture by now. 'The Disturbance' is either meant as an ironic slap-stick joke or as a post-ironic double bluff. It could be that it's a pastiche of various seemingly incompatible styles, intentionally brought together to create a monstrous oddity, and thus is not meant to be taken seriously at all. Or it could be that you're supposed to knowingly understand that such jokes already exist, ignore them, and instead enjoy the album for its honesty and earnestness instead. Personally, shunning cynicism for a while, I'd like to think it's the latter. I do enjoy this album in a way, for both its oddness and its earnestness. It's like a friendly monster, though more Monsters Inc then Beauty and The Beast. As such, it's not something I'd readily admit to liking, and yet is something that I still kind of do. It almost feels like my ears have been sexually assaulted, but oddly, that I've rather enjoyed it in a sick kind of way. I think it's the musical equivalent of dressing in your gimp suit, sticking a butt-plug up your arse and getting all sweaty, tied up, with some woman in high heels standing on your balls. It's not the kind of thing that you'd tell your mum about, but by god, it's got its charms. So I'm probably going to listen to this album again - in a darkened cellar most likely - get all sweaty, and take it like the filthy little bitch that I am. By Matt Bentley Link |