GARRON FRITH
The Rub
Based here in our own Northwest, Garron Frith is an artist with an interesting history, as well as a fine set of new songs. His initial self-titled album was released in 2007 and his rootsy mixture of folk, blues and Americana has earned him some notable admirers, having toured alongside the lakes of 10cc’s Graham Gouldman, Peter Green, Robert Cray, Jack Bruce and Madeleine Peroux. However, his 2012 release away from the bright lights proved either self-revelatory or prophetic, as he apparently fell out of love with music, though it would seem that what is within you will eventually trigger a need to let it out, his current release demonstrating that his talent is undiminished and his experiences appear to been fertile ground for his songwriting renaissance.
After a 14-year gap since his previous album, Garron Frith’s return with The Rub is a welcome one. Nothing here feels hurried or overstated. Instead, Frith draws the listener in through the laid-back, downbeat style of his delivery, creating an album whose quietness is not a lack of power but the source of it.
The lyrics feel deeply introspective, carrying the accumulated power of lives lived and lives observed. These are songs about lives entwined and lives separated, but also about lives that never quite connected—either with other individuals or with the outside world. Frith approaches these subjects without melodrama, allowing details, absences and understated turns of phrase to suggest histories larger than the songs themselves.
The arrangements mirror that restraint. Voice and guitar form the album’s sparse centre, occasionally augmented by instruments such as trumpet and viola. These additions are themselves understated, yet they provide powerful punctuation: a brief shift in colour, a note of tension or tenderness, a carefully placed emphasis that deepens the prevailing mood without disturbing it.
The subject matter can occasionally be intense, but The Rub remains highly engaging throughout. Its measured pace gives the songs room to breathe, while Frith’s unforced performance keeps their emotional weight close to the surface. The result is intimate rather than insular, patient rather than remote.
Like any good album, The Rub takes you into the world of another person, at least for the time you are listening. Frith’s world is rendered with economy, empathy and quiet precision, and his long-awaited reappearance makes it all the more compelling. Let’s hope he doesn’t leave it as long next time.
Buy the CD on Garron's website
The Rub