Liverpool Sound and Vision Rating * * * * *
We can dismiss the paranormal with a wave of a hand, but that doesn’t mean we don’t see ghosts out of the corner of our eye, that on the streets we walk, the shops we use, the venues we spend our free time in, these are the relics of hallowed and the sacred spectres of every decision, every moment of life, is forever seen from our point of view; and these Holy Ghosts, these often blessed, melancholic, passionate reminders are viewed with what could be seen as a heady mixture of sorrow, of purity, and the spiritually honoured.
Liverpool has its fair share of poets, its artists, the musicians that find measure in the observational study of certain moments of the city’s history and their own place within it, but there is a kind of special duty to reflection that gifts the listener of the awareness of thought that comes from the mind of Alan O’ Hare and his own unique craft in Only Child; and it is with relish that the stories and fierce drive stands out, arguably like never before, in the grace portrayed of the fifth album, Holy Ghosts.
As the poetic nature and themes of memory, resolution, even the memorial to recall and the underscore of the beauty of melancholia is freshly unveiled, so the heartbeat of the writer is relished, and with the addition of the extraordinary Dorothy Bird on backing vocals, the studious cool of Amy Chalmers, the sweet feeling of joy carried by Andy Connally on flute and Irish whistle, the pleasurable experience of the Sweet Beans horn section adding unbridled mystery, and the master of production, as well as the layering of guitars, Jon Lawton, what comes across is akin to the very best of feelings, of understanding that in the moment of the day a trigger can be felt, and we see those ghosts smiling at us and willing us on with serenade.
Across tracks such as the opener That Fateful Day, Everything I Know, the eye opener of Different Times in which the past of a city and the sometimes-dividing forces that have shaped it comes into full view, Easter Sunday, the excellent Cathy’s Song, the captivating Dock Road, and Empty Streets carry the hopes and dreams, and the tempting regrets of the person who sees the images and faces of a home that for some no longer exist, altered by the passage of time, tempered by our place within walls that have been demolished, caged perhaps by our actions within them.
An outstanding album of personal insight, this is the courage, and the belief of the poet armed with memory and the ability to place it before the crowd in song with meaning. Holy Ghosts is a creation of memory unfurled.
Ian D. Hall