Liverpool Sound and Vision Rating 9/10
To create poetry without a lyric is perhaps the hardest lesson to master; to place trust in each note without the guiding spectre a hand in which to offer anything like a suggestion, a hint or even a warning of the possible intimate nature of the song, is simply a thrill for the palate and makes the brain work overtime as it concocts its own special melody.
Poetry without a lyric, if it is good enough for the celestial dance between the Earth, the Sun and the Heavens, the rolling oceans and the unspoken bond between two lovers then it is good enough to turn the humblest and enjoyable of musicians into bards and for John Chatterton, being a player on the stage, the modest, the unpretentious deliverer of musical exploits, that poetry is heightened in the haunting refrain that grips the heart with love in Rest In Place.
The lyrics may be missing but they suggest themselves perfectly as the notes become embroiled in telling the story. Being an instrumental they could mean anything, they could suggest a multitude of different aspects to the world but somewhere as each note takes hold it feels as if somewhere in the desert a lonely man picks up the scent of fulfilment, of hope and follows it with his pistol cocked ready, his horse weary from the travels before, now on full readiness to ride the wind in search of optimism and the guitar that has laid dormant and silent for many months now a moment of expectation in the world.
A story can come out of anything and John Chatterton provides that blank sheet with the anticipation of a muse, the flowering ideas as the music hangs in the air is enough to make the heart swell and the blood pump with faith; it is the story of Rest In Place, the somnolent given impetuous to ride on.
Aided by his son Mike Chatterton, John brings a moment of clarity to the occasion and it is to be viewed as arguably one of his finest pieces of recorded music captured for the acoustic scene. Brilliant, adept and crushingly real, Rest In Place is a bird of paradise.
Ian D. Hall