Life should have its guilty pleasures and singer/songwriter PAUL LARSON may just have become one of mine.
Based in Utah, PAUL’s voice harks back to a bye-gone age when James Taylor and John Denver ruled the airwaves. On ‘Through The Window’ these artists provide the bedrock for PAUL’s music but I think it would be a harsh critic who could honestly say that his voice is not their equal. (For a modern equivalent the only name that springs to mind is John Grant from The Czars.)
Such unashamed, open-hearted and guileless expression of poetry and soul is a rare commodity these days and it’s this character in PAUL’s singing that draws you. I mean let’s get to the nub of the matter: it takes a special kind of talent to be able to make you care about their love of trains (on ‘When It Comes To Trains’). From anyone else this would just sound plainly naff but with the subtle and tender touch that PAUL employs you find yourself sharing his geeky pleasure.
His songs are pretty good as well, ranging as they do from a light pop/country to outright solo ballads. He writes mainly about the simple and unsullied joys of life as his song titles testify - ‘California Evening’, ‘Going Home’ and ‘Mountain Mornings’ (my personal favourite) - but its done with such belief that any accusations of peddling a romanticised view of life for commercial exploitation are totally unfounded. The acoustic story-telling of 'Captain's Son' is exceptional.
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If it sounds like I’m defending PAUL I suppose it stems from the fact that I’m slightly wary of raising people’s expectations. I can genuinely understand that someone else playing this record would react with bafflement if not outright disdain. There is nothing inherently cool or hip about PAUL LARSON and his songs. What he and his music does represent though is a credible Utopia that anyone can achieve if they just look beyond the blatant materialism of modern life: which in its own way is as equally effective a rallying cry for revolution – albeit in a homespun and passive manner – as any sledge-hammering anti-commercial agit-rocker can artlessly propound.
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