Malojian's latest album Humm is released early and it couldn't come at a better time - just before we all go into lockdown meltdown. Here's something to prick up your ears.
‘Humm’ has arrived early. It wasn’t due until the Autumn but Spring 2020 will never be forgotten for this COVID-19 isolation and social distancing. We’re all in need of a little cheering up. Just as the malaise sets in, along comes ‘Humm’, a sibling for ‘Let Your Weirdness Carry You Home’, ‘Southlands’, ‘This Is Nowhere’, and ‘The Deer’s Cry’.
There’s no denying that Malojian’s Stevie Scullion is a prolific songwriter and a master craftsman, but the midwife for ‘Humm’ was the Grandaddy of them all, Jason Lytle. The pair have established an ongoing collaboration. Steve was a Grandaddy fan back in the day and could only have dreamed that one day Lytle would co-produce one of his albums. There’s a certain synchronicity. You can hear the Grandaddy imprint right across this album.
With Scullion’s self-effacing, gentle manner, and inherent sense of humour, it’s easy to see how and why he has successfully garnered the support and input of some of the industry’s best producers and musicians. ‘Humm’ features guest appearances from ex-Teenage Fanclub bassist Gerry Love and legendary drummer and producer Joey Waronker (REM, Roger Waters, Beck). Of course, 2015’s ‘This Is Nowhere’ was recorded and produced by Nirvana producer Steve Albini in Chigaco.
‘Humm’s’ gestation was closer to home. As the globe gets used to new ways of working and embraces the age of technology and the benefits of world-wide communication during a global shutdown, at a time when we all work and exist remote from one another, ‘Humm’ is a celebration of the benefits that technology brings to the creative process.
The record was only made possible because of the internet; bouncing ideas across the Atlantic and back to base. The title is a reference to Foilhummeran Bay on Valentia Island off the coast of Ireland. It’s where the transatlantic cable leaves. This is typical of Malojian magic. There’s so much happening, layer on layer, ideas and creative spirit, linking with like-minds, an accidental alchemist. These subtleties combined with melody and that voice with its soft, elegiac range and grace, blend to make that unique Malojian outcome.
I’ve followed Stevie Scullion’s work since the “Cat Malojian” days. The first time I saw them live was as support for some act long since forgotten more than a decade ago at Black Box, Belfast. I knew there was something special there and said so at the time. A decade on, it’s high time that recognition was stepped up another level. Hopefully, this early digital release of ‘Humm’ will make that happen.
As we’ve come to expect with Malojian, there’s a weaving of cross-referencing themes, reminiscences and recollections. A mix of moving, meaningful, and beautifully executed melodies, along with the inevitable Malojian subtle humour and fun-loving, over-active imagination. In typical Northern Ireland style, he can’t help but take a crack at himself, to find art in the mundane.
I had the pleasure of hearing some of these tunes at a small gig before the lockdown when some were still works in progress. If my memory serves me well, ‘And The Thief Came In’ was about a rogue builder that had caused chaos at the Malojian homestead. Listening to the final version feels completely different. It’s an elegy in my mind. Sad, mournful, with a sense of grief. The whispering sets in at the end and I’m not quite sure if it’s muttered prayers or a mumbled confessional.
There are subtle references to a Northern Ireland “Troubles” childhood captured in ‘Burns’ and ‘Chinooks’, the retro harkening to the ‘Golden Age’, delivered with grace and favour but as always, there’s a sense of remoteness, that keeps the listener as the outsider, not quite fully able to crack the Malojian psyche.
This see-sawing between the serious and sombre to the jovial and lighthearted comes about with upbeat and cheerful tunes like ‘Salt’, ‘Trampolining’ and ‘Tsundoku’. That’s a Japanese word that has crept into the English lexicon, meaning “that pile of books beside your bed that never quite gets read”. This is another exceptional album from Malojian, and one to be proud of.
The title track ‘Humm’ is simply beautiful, particularly with its wistful, inclusion of a child’s voice and little fingers plonking on a piano. Slightly experimental, yet it works somehow. The bonus track, ‘The Singularity’, is just stunning work. The perfect end to more fine art from the Malojian master.
‘Humm’ is available now via Malojian on Bandcamp, with the vinyl version available from September 2020. All being well, we can look forward to some live gigs when we’re all allowed to go out to play again.