Liverpool Sound and Vision Rating * * * *
No matter how long you spend away from the pursuit of creativity, given just a single moment in the company of one who can present the muse with generosity and with a keen eye for your own heartbeat’s desire, soon enough you find your way back to the place in which the diverted sign post sent you down a road which was fulfilling and wholesome but to which arguably caused you to be immersed too long, you studied every notch and cranny in this place and now soon enough the urge to sing once again is paramount.
The voice and the ideas are never truly lost, for some they go into hiding, for others they become enveloped by the kiss of the fog and the blessing of the mist, they call out to you but they know you are safe, biding your time, hosing down the signpost and breathing in the future, the chord and the structure of songs and ballads to which you open your heart to.
For John Stamp, working with the irreplaceable Boo Hewerdine was the catalyst to the emotional voyage of bringing together a set of songs which has transpired to be heard in Franklin 54, the mix of Nashville straight from the heart of a Derbyshire man, the English reserve opened and flowered, pollinated and secured by the infused sound generated by the American love story.
Great care and attention, as one would expect from having been in the company of Mr. Hewerdine for a time, has been generated and nourished in this album and in songs such as Hippy Days, the sublime duet with Sixpence None The Richer’s Leigh Nash in Blowing Me Kisses, Do You Dream? Knocking and California, John Stamp, alongside the notable musicianship of Will Kimbrough on guitars, Chris Donahue and Matt Pierson on bass, Dennis Holt on drums, Andy Sheridan on keys, and with the aforementioned Leigh Nash, Chris Eaton, Abby Eaton and Dwayne Larring, that attention stands out with pride, with typical British formality, and catches the attention of the listener with wonderful abandon.
Eventually the call of the muse is too much to ignore, it may be a year, five or even the figure has been lost count upon, but you never truly stray too far, you always have one eye on the path that might have been, one ear on the memory of the sound beneath your feet and the way back is always one that seems lighter and less detached than when you parted ways. A beautiful album, Franklin 54 is the sound of what happens when you knock upon the door of your first love.
Ian D. Hall