Piano Magic – Ovations

With Glen Johnson increasingly and rewardingly immersed in his new solo career through this year’s sublime Details Not Recorded album and the cherishable cassette-only Institutionalized EP, his electronically-slanted Textile Ranch experimentations and his must-read Anything But Silence blog, it’s perhaps no surprise that he’s taken so long to lead Piano Magic into cutting a full-length follow-up to 2007’s Part-Monster LP. In fact, some of us – perhaps even Johnson himself – have begun to wonder if Piano Magic still need to exist as a band, when its creative core is doing such sterling work elsewhere.  It is a question that nags in the background of the belatedly-minted Ovations, given that several of its songs sound like solo Johnson pieces dressed in more densely-woven and live-orientated robes, but ultimately such distractions do not undermine its ambitious widescreen reach.  In essence, Piano Magic may be more of an old habit than a necessity for Johnson nowadays, but the group is still never less than a compelling and imaginative addiction.

The opening prowl of “The Nightmare Goes On” is a key indicator of the overall trajectory of Ovations.  With commanding guest lead vocals from Dead Can Dance’s Brendan Perry, intoning Johnson’s funereal prose over washes of synths, exotic strings and almost African rhythms, the long-player feels like a much more successful attempt to capture the true ‘80s 4AD spirit that the ensemble strained a little hard to reach on 2002’s collaborator-heavy Writers Without Homes.  With Johnson back to the singing fore, the thicker rhythmic mélange hits with even greater force on the ensuing Moroccan-vibed “March Of The Atheists” and the skittering electro-beats-driven “On Edge.”  The more minimalist, Details Not Recorded-like, “A Fond Farewell” brings a serene momentary breathing space before “The Blue Hour” and “Recovery Position” crash in with towering waves of Robin Guthrie guitars put through Modern English amplifiers.

Before proceedings slide too close to unadulterated ‘80s noire retrophilia, the wordless “La Cobardía De Los Toreros” chimes in with an Eastern European baroque eloquence that might not sound out of place on Beirut’s Gulag Orkestar. Following this refreshing interlude, a second Perry-sung track, the elegantly-orchestrated “You Never Loved This City”, glides in with unapologetically lovelorn Tindersticks-style grace and gravitas.  The somewhat automatic New Order-referencing of “The Faint Horizon” consequently feels a little anaemic in its wake.  However, the closing “Exit” more than makes up for it, with squelchy Kraftwerk electronics and a Vini Reilly guitar figure enveloping an elegiac duet between Johnson and regular golden-toned Piano Magic chanteuse, Angèle David-Guillou.

For the all the focus on the richly-textured arrangements that capture Piano Magic in full collaborative flow, Johnson’s lyrical centre of gravity remains the key to unlocking it all.  Berating religion with a “Meat Is Murder”-level of zeal (“And all these wars in the name of a book/There’s god in your heart but there’s blood on your hands”), scolding society’s inability to embrace ‘nowness’ (“We always want tomorrow/So never live today”), musing on self-implosion (“I’m a pot on the boil/I’m a trap on the spring/I am pushed to the brink/I could pull out the pin”) and edging into near-Shakespearian romantica (“I cannot bear to breathe/Her voice is but a memory/Her kiss is but a dream”), Johnson remains one of the wordsmith masters in his field.

Like its predecessor, the impressive Ovations provides no linear entry-point into the labyrinthine world of Piano Magic.  Yet, it undoubtedly finds Glen Johnson and co. regaining a stronger sense of collective purpose; reinforcing the belief that the group still has plenty of reasons and room to exist alongside its members extra-curricular roaming, for a little while longer at least.  Longtime fans will love it unreservedly.

Make Mine Music/Darla Records