Once upon a time, Rock’n’Roll was regarded as strictly a young man’s game. The stars we pinned up on our walls sang of being desperate for teenage kicks and hoping to die before they got old and we believed they would. Not end up farming trout or dictating BBC daytime Radio playlists instead.
These days, of course, things are rather more complex. One-time young firebrands are celebrating 25th anniversary tours of classic albums, introducing themselves to new generations of fans and being hailed as Godfathers of this or that scene, while they probably couldn’t get arrested twenty years back. Somewhere, the lines got blurred between ‘us’ and ‘them’, it seems. What the hell happened?
Thankfully, there have always been those characters who just kept on keeping on, writing great songs and never giving a flying one whether they were in or out of fashion. Pretty much NICK LOWE’S modus operandi in a nutshell, actually. Having spent a colossal four decades plus in this grimy biz, he’s (to quote the New York Times) spent time “not fitting into three successive movements: pub rock, punk and new wave” and a whole lot more making records that may not have bothered the charts but have meant a hell of a lot to the discerning out there.
In recent times, the man still sometimes referred to as Basher has been undergoing something of a critical resurgence, with albums like ‘The Convincer’ and the fine ‘At My Age’ touting a more mature, reflective sound, not to mention quietly bleeding great tunes. It’s been a lengthy four years since the release of the latter, but Lowe’s new album ‘The Old Magic’ swiftly proves he’s as fantastic as ever.
Having turned 60 since the release of ‘At My Age’, Nick has clearly been ruminating about his place in this supposed young man’s world. “I’m 61 years old now, Lord I never thought I’d see 30,” he sings candidly on the jaunty shuffle ‘Checkout Time’, but judging by the glint in his eye on the sleeve photo, he can wait awhile yet before he needs to make his ‘Time Out of Mind’.
Indeed, ‘The Old Magic’ suggests he’s in especially rude health these days. With his close-miked vocals to the fore and a succession of restrained performances from his crack band (featuring the respected likes of guitarist Steve Donnelly and keyboard player Geraint Watkins) he’s onto a winner.
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Ballads like ‘Stoplight Roses’, the forlorn ‘House for Sale’ and ‘I Read A Lot’ lead the way. All are tales of hard personal knocks and descriptions of places where love once resided (“you left me high and dry in a loveless land, with nothing but time one my hands” he sings on the late-night, string-kissed latter), but they’re all given an exquisite kid-glove treatment by the band.
Elsewhere, they pick up the pace on tracks like the restless, wanderlust-fuelled romantic pop of ‘Restless Feeling’ or the itchy, 60s-style ‘Somebody Cares For Me’, which has a hint of Tex-Mex about it. The Buddy Holly-ish ‘Sensitive Man’ is arguably even better, with a cold-shouldered Nick desperately trying (“my one desire is to make you happy again/ but I can’t do that until you let me in”) but probably failing to get his girl back again.
The three covers come from the exalted song-books of Tom T. Hall, Jeff West and Elvis Costello. With a superb version of Elvis’ ‘Poisoned Rose’ standing out, all are country-tinged delights and fit Lowe like a glove. My personal favourite is the closing ‘Till the Real Thing Comes Along’: a swaying, lovelorn treat with gorgeous baritone guitar and just a hint of ‘On Broadway.’
‘The Old Magic’, then, clearly hasn’t deserted Nick Lowe. His methods may be a little smoother these days, but there’s still no avoiding his seductive charisma. Long may he defy the ravages of time and continue to grow old (dis)gracefully.
Nick Lowe online
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