Ace young guitarist Clive returns to recording at last after
an all-too-long four years away from the studio, shorn of much hair maybe
but not shorn of any of that outstanding talent that had marked him out on
his debut CD The Sixth Sense as a very special instrumentalist indeed. The
Red Guitar is that comparative rarity – an instrumental album par excellence
that can be appreciated by fellow-guitarists and us mere mortals alike! Of
course, the uneducated and/or impatient ear is apt to dismiss Clive's playing
as just a lot of tricksy noodling, but to do so is missing the point, refusing
to acknowledge the subtleties of Clive's approach, the intrinsic musicality
of his phrasing and tonal shading. The level of musicality that Clive displays
is truly astonishing, one not automatically present in even the most skilled
of professional guitarists, many of whom are content to spin notes for the
sake of showing off how clever they can be with their twelve fingers!
Stylistically, Clive's compositions (which comprise 11 out of the 13 tracks
on this new CD) rove eclectically and brilliantly through and across genre
boundaries – well, as if that matters!. The opener March And The Messenger
starts out craftily like a morris tune, then progresses through a series of
syncopated riffs to finish somewhat breathlessly as a fast reel. Song For
Chris Berry is an altogether more lyrical creation; then there are two sets
directly inspired by Clive's Irish upbringing (which wouldn't necessarily
spring immediately to mind when you think of any obvious influence on either
his playing, technique or musical sensibility). These sets display Clive's
superb sense of rhythm, external and internal, and his unerring feel for pace,
knowing just when and how to let the music breathe (marvel at track 3, which
pairs the air Black Moon with the march Westward Move, with both even played
together towards the end!). Interpolated devices such as harmonics and slaps
(I hesitate to call them tricks!) are applied naturally as part of the musical
ebb and flow; there's no sense of "oh how clever am I" with Clive,
listening to him play is as natural as having a conversation with a good friend.
Devil's Bridge (nifty title that!) proves a real finger-twister of a piece,
1½ minutes of satanic Romanian-inspired tunes; Les Petites Clochettes
makes a virtue of delicacy. The pensive Inside stretches out lovingly across
the fretboard, expanding gently to fill four glorious minutes, and is dedicated
to fellow-guitarist Tommy Emmanuel, with whom Clive has memorably toured.
Blue notes, percussive slaps and beautiful lyricism combine on the brief road-movie
that is Route 73 (Stoke Newington to Hammersmith anyone?!). The Romanian connection
surfaces again on Bela Boy, which pithily transcends its inspiration (Bartók's
pioneering folksong arrangements in the early years of the last century).
The "other" Bela (bluegrass master Fleck) then gets the homage honour
on the fingerlickin' hoedown of Luck For Sale. Perhaps on Clive's rendition
of Gilbert Biberian's piece The Romantic the character is more of an Impressionist
though…? Wayne Shorter's flamboyant showpiece Black Nile then makes
for an ideal closer to the CD. Just before which, the insistent, repetitive
motor rhythms of Threnody provide an altogether different challenge to both
player and listener, which Clive passes with flying colours.
Is one of them "red"? – well, red-hot with aching fingers,
I'm sure, but also red-hot with creativity. Your guess is as good as mine!
In all its moods, Clive's playing may be note-perfect, but that doesn't ever
mean it's soulless. Guitar music doesn't often get right to one's emotions,
but I find Clive's playing gets deep to mine. Suffice it to say, this is a
superb CD. Go buy it when it appears. And visit Clive's website for the stories
behind the tunes.
Netrhythms
www.netrhythms.co.uk
