There was a particular type of artist who used to turn up on the free CDs that came with Uncut magazine in about 1998. They’d be nestled somewhere between Elliott Smith and Lambchop, making music that was quirky, understated and just strange enough to suck you in.
Dennis Ellsworth’s Living would have fitted beautifully.
“Summer Gloss” establishes the mood immediately. There’s something slightly awkward about it, but deliberately so, and it possesses the type of off-kilter charm that makes you want to understand it.
The harmonies on “I Can’t Think” are gorgeous, while the song seems to be wrestling with emotions it doesn’t entirely comprehend. We’ve all been there, of course, and that uncertainty is central to the appeal of the record.
You can’t escape the innate sadness of “Sundried Daisies.” Emilea May’s vocal is perfect and when Ellsworth sings, “Seeds of love and seeds of doubt,” he could be describing the tightrope the entire album walks.
The title comes from a memory of Ellsworth’s wife and daughter picking a bouquet of daisies during the uncertain summer of 2020. Placed on the dashboard of the family car, they slowly wilted as the weeks passed, becoming a symbol of the beautiful places they had visited and the precious time they had shared.
“Every Second, Every Day” adds a touch of soul. If “people are acting like they’re running out of time,” this sounds as relaxed as a bloke in a hammock with the week off.
The acoustic guitar on “Sorry For Everything” is almost picked out one note at a time, with the near-whispered vocal entirely in keeping with the record. Its hook, “The future’s trash,” feels completely at odds with the gentleness of the music, which only makes it more effective.
Starting a song with the sound of a music box is always unsettling, and “Definitely Heavenly” doesn’t become any less peculiar when its 1960s psychedelia takes over.
It is interesting that these songs are essentially punk rock in length, even if they are nothing like punk in style. “La La Land” is done in under two minutes. Indeed, it is difficult to categorise much of Living beyond saying it is a little weird and very clever.
That applies to “Floor Is Lava” too, although there is a darker undercurrent here. “Leave A Mark,” meanwhile, offers the simple request to “take care of each other.” You couldn’t exactly call it catchy, but there is always something to hold on to – in this case, it is the guitar line.
“Moonlanding” closes things with a wash of synth and the marvellous line, “Melancholy is easy, baby, but it’s harder to shake.” That feels like something written at two in the morning when sleep isn’t coming and your thoughts won’t leave you alone.
Ellsworth’s expansive career as a songwriter, performer, producer and sideman now includes ten solo albums, stretching back to 2009 and including 2014’s Hazy Sunshine. Living, though, is a wonderfully concise collection. Ten songs and barely 27 minutes long, it never outstays its welcome.
Beautiful, mildly dark and charmingly unconventional, it sounds like a forgotten late-90s treasure that has somehow arrived almost three decades late.
Rating: 8/10
