MARK RADCLIFFE & DAVID BOARDMAN
Hearsay & Heresy
I have it on good authority that the Rose & Crown pub in Knutsford is a hostelry of fine repute. The fact that this Cheshire landmark is the location where Mark Radcliffe and David Boardman first met only adds to the allure, and it can be no coincidence that the duo’s sophomore release, Hearsay & Heresy, not only has a photo of the pair playing cards there, but also shows that Mark may be the slower drinker of the two.
Mark will be well-known to all, having spent three decades on BBC national radio, being the author of many best-selling books, one half of electronic duo UNE, (declaration of interest here, many thanks for the custom Scunthorpe United UNE badge, Mark), as well as drummer (retired) and lyricist (ongoing) for the excellent Americana band Fine Lines, whose lead singer and music originator just happens to be… David Boardman.
David, a gifted and renowned fine artist, whose distinctive, modernist paintings have been exhibited at the OXO Tower in London and Newcastle’s Biscuit Factory, is also a talented guitarist and much sought-after as a guitar teacher.
Their modus operandi as a duo is straightforward, in the classic mould of two harmonised voices and two guitars delivering, mainly, original songs, with the occasional cover. This approach underscores this latest release, although friends have been brought on board, Clare ‘Fluff’ Smith plays fiddle on one track, whilst Fine Lines bandmate Gary O’Brien contributes piano to two tracks and ex Chonkinfeckler and current Dots man Les Hilton’s harmonica adorns a further two, and to these ears strings/synth, accordion and other sundry instruments seem to make an appearance too.
The ten new songs on the release are carefully crafted, with threads of places, people and, dare I suggest, nostalgia, inspiring a diverse range of subjects which encompass getting caught in a storm, favourite bars, the Manchester Ship Canal and asylum seekers besieged by rioters in a budget hotel.
Lively acoustic guitars introduce the opening track, ‘Merchant City, Driving Rain’, before the pair’s vocals kick in, with lyrics that paint a very visual picture “Wild is the wind tonight… clouds are anchored overhead…umbrellas twisted inside out…” of a storm taking place in Glasgow’s Merchant City, but which is so effective that will resonate with anyone who has encountered the same in any city. Intermittent claps of thunder add to the effect, as our duo urge caution “Be careful how you go my friend.”
A change of location takes us much further south with ‘On Euston Road’, a calm piece offering reflections of their feelings and emotions when they first arrived in England’s capital city. Again non-musical sounds enhance the song, as traffic noise, car horns and general bustle can be heard, in a track which contains the memorable line “But the traffic was one of the things that I loved the most.”
The narrative agenda continues with ‘Steal the Sea’, as our modern day troubadours relate the story of how the cotton barons of Manchester, some 40 miles inland, built the Manchester Ship Canal to steal trade from the port of Liverpool, “…cotton came to set out to steal the sea…” This is another gentle song in which the duo’s harmonies are much in evidence.
The geographical location for ‘The Long Ridge’ evades this writer. Initial thoughts were Longridge Fell in Lancashire, but musically the song has much more of an Americana feel to it, with its strummed guitars, harmonica and more, luscious vocal harmonisations, the lyrics offer nights under stars, playing guitars and the probability of a more generic, open-ended setting.
Bars and pubs provide the background for two further songs. The first of these, ‘At The Bar San Calisto’, pays homage to Mark’s favourite bar in Rome. The gypsy, almost Klezmer feel of the track is achieved not only through the guitars but elevated by Clare’s energetic violin and the insistent handclaps. It will be interesting to read whether the bar gets further mention in ‘Et tu,cavapoo’, the stories from Mark’s time living with his wife and dog in Rome, which is to be published in August.
The second, is an altogether different favourite bar, as the listener is immediately whisked away from Trastevere area of the Eternal city to a cellar in the streets of Manchester, in ‘Down the Steps’. In this song, the lyrics espouse the view that “I’m not crippled by nostalgia – I’m alright Jack as I am”, a sentiment that seems to be at the heart of ‘Never Had the Last Dance’, a seemingly autobiographical contemplation of “we were kids stuck in a northern town” which prompts “sometimes when I’m looking back I think about the other track”, and the pessimistic, (or is it realistic and possibly regretful?), view that “We never had the chance to dance, that sun never set…that journey never ended, that circle never closed... every summer has to fade.”
My initial thought when I saw the song title ‘Moon Fishermen’ was “Excellent, a fascinating historical gem relating to the 19th and early 20th century “pêcheurs de lune” who would steal items from clothes line under the cover of darkness using hooks and rods”, the sort of song in which Gilmore & Roberts excel. However, I’m not sure that my case has sufficient evidence to support it. Regardless, the song moves along with a shuffling, percussive beat, and a vaguely haunting atmosphere, underscored by what could be a marimba, or glockenspiel.
Penultimate song, ‘Right Side of the Tracks’, is stripped back to acoustic guitars, featuring chords and more lush harmonies that will no doubt draw comparisons to other vocal duos, embellished by the sympathetic harmonica of Les. I interpret this song as a celebration of the fact that despite the vagaries and temptations of city life in Manchester, potential pitfalls were avoided and “We kept things on the right side of the tracks.”
The album closes with an absolute gem. Written from the perspective of an asylum seeker, “The Not So Grand Hotel’ chronicles the danger of the sea crossing, the malevolent human traffickers and the final, indignant, humiliation of being laid siege to, and worse, by venomous, hostile locals. The opening, a capella “Will you be my witness…” is reverent in its appeal, and borrowing phrases such as “a perfect storm is about to take hold” and “batten down the hatches” merely adds to the empathy shown by the duo to the plight of refugees, and the song is important in de-bunking and calling-out the vile racism and lies, such as asylum seekers being housed in grand hotels, peddled by the likes of RxFxrm UK.
Hearsay & Heresy is an album of great warmth and character, reflecting two musicians whose symbiotic relationship is proving to be a benefit for all. Thoroughly recommended.
