One thing that always strikes me, again and again, particularly right now in this current period in history is that making music is not – for nearly everyone who does it – something they like to do.
Rather it is something they have a burning need to accomplish.
I happened to catch an interview with Saxon singer Biff Byford a few weeks ago. He was talking about the fact even to this day elderly relatives question him as to what he will do when all “all this stops.”. Asked what he replied, he said: “this doesn’t stop. Not until you choose to stop it.”
That spirit, that desire and dare I suggest, need? Is surely what makes Richard Davies act as a singer for the first time in his career and step into the spotlight with The Dissidents for this wonderful, warm hearted collection of tunes? What else can it be.
Davies started out in Tiny Monroe. Cards on the table here, I think I had their debut on tape, and I think I may have seen them support Suede (but it was over a quarter of a century ago and I’ve been to bed since then….) then he was in The Snakes, who I definitely liked, along the way he’s also played with loads of huge names like Glen Matlock.
The Snakes were something of a gem in the UK Americana scene, and this record is – broadly speaking – along the same lines, but it also sees things down a much more “power pop” route, too.
That much is clear from the opening title track. It sounds like its come from the late 70s, and it has a touch (in the piano mostly) of the E.St Band. It is a cracker of a kick off, because not only that, but there’s enough of a glam sheen, an Ian Hunter level of skill to this.
But like Hunter this is beholden to no-one. I saw the Mott man play a gig on his birthday once. I think it was his 78th. Someone in the crowd shouted: “happy birthday, Ian”. “Fuck off,” came back from the stage. There is a similar, do anything we wanna do spirit about “Human Traffic”. “Lay Me Low” for example, is an adaptation of an old Shaker hymn from the 19th century (they were a derivation of the Quakers. I claim no knowledge but I heard it on Danny Baker’s radio show….) while “Way Of The Wild” sounds like it has come straight out of the 90s indie scene that spawned him.
At its absolute best – “21st Century Man” is right up there – this is perhaps best described as Tom Petty with a punk lip curl. Singer songwriter, yes, but not quite. And there’s an oddly Elvis Costello vibe about “Heartbeat Smile” (an Alejandro Escovedo cover).
There are some moments of real skill here. The lead of “Long Road (To Your Heart)” is perfect and shows just how good a guitarist Davies is. The harmonies here, as well, are a thing of real beauty. “Echo Road” has a chorus that is from the draw marked “infectious” and along with “…Man” its acoustic, summery tones make this one of the highlights.
I haven’t really spoken about the band yet, and I really should have. There is a real camaraderie between them, it seems. A couple of them Chris Cannon (who was in The Snakes) and Tim Emery (recently seen the Last Great Dreamers) are old friends and there is a warmth about the playing. “No Master, No Guide” perhaps shows that best of all.
The third “cover” if you will, sees Tiny Monroe’s “Under The Skin” given a spruce up, and the aforementioned LDG might make a fist of this one too. It would be perfect for one of their quieter moments.
Throughout, this has more or less been the perfect amalgamation of glam, indie and Americana, and that is all through “No Man’s Land”. The last one here has the same effortless, low-slung, vibe, but you know, that it is cooler than you too. So does it.
Which answers the question about the burning desire, I guess, because on its sort of New York Dolls meets The Replacements by way of Tom Petty type stylings, “Human Traffic” is cherry picked from everything Richard Davies has done. It’s just that here Richard Davies And The Dissidents” have found a natural voice all of their own.
Rating 8.5/10
