dawn-Song - For Morgan (2020)

Prepare to be charmed. For Morgan, the latest offering from Nick Evans, aka Dawn Song is a swirling memory of simpler times, managing to be timeless and timely all at once. Written for his son, Morgan, these eleven songs take you on a journey of delight and discovery.

Nick Evans has a back story, and perhaps a surprising one. Rewind to a politicised sixteen-year-old in the Welsh valleys, putting on his first gig, a miners benefit at the Paget Rooms, Penarth, in 1984, featuring a young Bjork, pre-Sugarcubes at one end of the bill, Chumbawamba at the other. A few years later and he is running Elemental records, the initial home of the Alabama 3 and Rocket To The Crypt. A brush with cancer brings about a re-appraisal, and he trains, in India, as a practitioner and teacher in Ashtanga yoga. Now, based in the Netherlands, this is now his life and vocation. ‘For Morgan’ came into being on the back of a similar gift he received from his own father; shortly before he died, a small volume of his poetry was published, a memento that has allowed ongoing connection. Likewise, this album is a gift in the present to enable the future to grasp the past: “To future man from ghost Dad”.

The sounds here are far from the agit-rock of his influences or the bands on his label, a gentler mood pervades, that peculiar Englishness, if a Welshman can forgive me for that, of Syd Barrett, Robyn Hitchcock and Julian Cope. As his publicity states, “the shouting’s gone, replaced with fragility and love”, yet just as implicit in “imploring of the world to do and be better”.

Opening with ‘Dark Sun’, the sound of the album is immediately set, with a harmonium drone ahead of picked electric guitars, the mood already that of the summer solstice, with the vocals and drums starting together in a song of remembrance tinged with warning, oboe dipping in and around his voice, the languid tone drawing in the listener to the lyric. The guitar and oboe are captivating, dancing together between the verses. ‘Holy Rain’ continues in this vein, slowly building into a song of rebirth, the follies of the past washed away thereby, the oboe (by Anemone Van Zijl) again a prominent counterpoint. In fact, the whole ensemble is gelling perfectly; the rhythm section of Bob Willemstein on bass and Tim Verheijden on drums provide a subtle and supportive undercurrent. The build in this song is quite something; the concept of pastoral cleansing makes it feel soothingly powerful.

By now it is apparent the general thrust here is of a mystical journey, with ‘She Has Spoken’ a hymn on the passing of time and life. And, whilst a fear might be that this is all sounding a bit too patchouli-scented, fear not, the strength of the melodies and of the playing is sufficient to let the music be the message, with the words, a bonus. I was hooked by the tunes long before I even caught the content of the detail.

There is a danger of assuming too much of another’s words, so it is a relief to have some explanation offered around next song, ‘Heartbeats of My Son’, courtesy of the accompanying description to the music video made by Jose Carballal – “A song attempting to convey the depth of feeling looking into your newborn sons eyes for the first time, the overwhelming joy and the impulse to introduce him to your own father who is no longer alive.” This is a truly beautiful song, starting off with Willemstein on piano; I am uncertain whether Evans or Mathias Lang plays the guitar solo here, but it is glorious.

A rockier tinge inhabits ‘Darker Shade of Love’, provides the opportunity to celebrate Evans’ pure singing tone again, the timbre ringing out above the slow burn of the guitars, the slight change in style ahead of the more psychedelic ‘Her Majesty’, with a delightful acoustic guitar beating an Incredible String Band memory into the proceedings.

‘Song of Songs’ is another mellow rocker that chugs along gracefully. Van Zijl now adding the English horn over the more spikily tuneful guitar as he sings of a melody that haunts his mind. That brief respite and we are back to business, ‘A Blessing and a Curse’ a solidly constructed song, with, perhaps, just perhaps, a nod back to the not dissimilarly entitled Kevin Ayers song, but as a launchpad rather than any facsimile. One of the record’s highlights, the bass a particular pleasure.

‘Prayer to Fire’ has additional vocals from Iris Wiesner, the oboe and horn of Van Zijl mixed high, a paean to fire as a tool of rebirth, the woodwind/brass combination almost orchestral. As it leads into ‘Cloud Canopy‘, there comes an all too brief suggestion of a song from elsewhere, and one that would fit well within Evans’ canon. But it isn’t, and this spoken-word piece, over a celebration of instrumental joy, provides an unexpected change in style, but one that works well, if all too short.

The closing track ‘Maitri’, the titke is Sanskrit for benevolence, goodwill and the active interest in others, is a striking acoustic anthem, and a very apt place to leave this remarkable album. For me, Maitri is most thought-inducing song here which also highlights the thought that has gone into the sequencing and order of songs.

I am intrigued by the album and I wanted to know more. Evans says that he also wanted to make something his mother could like, as well as being the time capsule for Morgan. I certainly hope his mother does enjoy it. This stranger certainly did.