Meb Jon Sol’s octagon of song is an endearing, sea-sawing, swig-a-long album of abundant youthful playfulness with a curious undercurrent of anxiety about growing old, weary and wistful all too soon.
While staying in touch with his inner poet/rogue/philosopher/pogue, the artist aka Michael McCullagh, has crafted – presumably with a little help from his friends – an album that is undeniably in homage to the sea-shanty tradition, with swaying rhythms and no shortage of lyrics laced with nautical imagery.
The album lunges straight in with the memorable opening track ‘Captain of This Ship’, which has been aired for a while now. Mr Meb Jon Sol (if I may call him that) is making no bones about it – he’s in control here as captain of said ship. While it’s a jaunty, fun offering that has you swaying with the imaginary waves, the irony is in the self-deprecating lyrics – which is why, I used the word endearing in the opening line – for how could you not warm to this hopelessly positive outlook – for he wouldn’t think twice if he goes down with his ship “sure it’s just another way to swim in the sea”?
With an eternally optimistic attitude, the captain reminds us to search in the dark for the light, to look for the positive in the bleak and I dare you to stand still for this song, for you can’t not sway along.
Track 2 ‘Not Young Anymore’ is three short vignettes in verse – the first a wedding that becomes a marriage that becomes misery (“her heart grew deep/but her eyes grew wild/at night she cried”) with the chorus line “I’m not that young anymore”. Second vignette is about a man he knew back home who banged the drums – “his arms stayed strong but his legs grew weak” and the poor soul, when drunk, cried out “I’m not that young anymore – in the third vignette, he knew a guy from the city who lost his dream, but to be heard in this town you got to scream”. It’s almost like a series of micro-short stories, where we get to make up the rest.
‘Not Young Anymore’ is a boulevard of broken dreams sort of song, but that eternal wry optimism of the cap’n shines through for the moral of the tune is everyone has a choice, to bemoan the passing of years and the life-chances lost, or to try harder, and carry on regardless.
The third track – ‘Leave All Your Troubles With Me’ – continues the sea-faring, faraway sway-away theme, but it’s in chilled out mellow time. If ‘Captain Of This Ship’ is the party song, ‘Leave All Your Troubles With Me’ is the aftermath. Melancholia is a passenger on board, but once again, the chorus “leave all your troubles, leave them with me” has that Meb Jon Sol singalong mark of quality.
Mid-point on this journey we encounter Angie and the question – where did your love go?
This track stands out for me – the one that became the never-ending ear worm primarily for the stand out opening lyric: “Angie, your famous red lips/are trembling when you talk to me.”
It’s a break up song and it’s like a sore, but more than the tasty lyrics, the bit that really got me is the last minute or so when the words have ended and the music continues – listen very carefully to the instrumental section at the tail of this track, for it’s a gem. There is mastery here, it’s just understated.
Then the tempo heats up again – ‘I Am From Nowhere’ is another foot stomper – with a devil may care attitude, a shoulder shrug and a swagger. Despite the yearning in the young man’s soul for he knows not what, and coupled with that yearning is the lack of earning (that wry Meb Jon Sol tongue-in-cheek, rhyming wit runs through this album), speaks of that restless, Sartre-esque misfit ache to make sense of existence – “I am from nowhere/Don’t have a name”.
Featuring interesting, old-style harmonies mixed with more than a hint of punk and rockabilly, Meb Jon Sol goes hell for leather on the ‘don’t give a damn’ hobo chic theme – finishing this track with a flourishing “I am from nowhere/don’t have a name/and that makes me free” – and the laughing fit at the end, feels for real. Great fun, but genuine.
That roguery of the rascal mentality continues into Track 6 – but it’s becoming more zen-like in mood, and rhythmically poetic. “I am a singer who does not sing/a guitar that has no strings/a churchbell that does not ring/but I am yours” and so, you get the drift. With a poor, down at heel richness, the lyrics are lush and the rhythm simple: from the poet that speaks no poems and so on – “I am a writer without a page/an actor without a stage/I am a widow that does not cry/A dead man that does not die/a bird that does not fly/but I am yours”. And again, Meb Jon Sol’s poetic lyrics link with his skill in creating chorus – a simple sway-a-long “I am yours, I am yours” links the verses seamlessly. Effortless, and quite lovely.
Track 7 – ‘Everyone Has A Secret Song’ – with twang of banjo and beat of drum – I can feel hot summer heat, a dusty dessert like track and lyrics serve up another treat: “We would search for the stars in the Spanish night sky/Your roll up your smoke/and talk to the moon/I knew it was ending/and I knew it was soon”. Chasing footsteps, searching old haunts for someone that’s gone – it’s an ache in the night song for “Everyone has to move on/everyone loves someone who’s gone” and everyone has a secret song.
The title track, ‘Southpaw Ninos’, holds on to another sing-a-long chorus with lots of la-la-la-la’s and the sweet mandolin and banjo combo making this one decidedly Spanish. It reminds me strangely of Belle & Sebastian’s ‘Piazza, New York Catcher’ which is no bad thing for that’s as fine a ballad as you’ll encounter on this planet, but there the comparison is just in passing.
For the final track Meb Jon Sol’s lyrical skills are served with flourish – “Our ship it sank before it left the dock/the angels had run down the clock/in spite o’all this we rallied against the dream/Held each other closely/kissed each other passionately/and loved each other in spite of all the pain”. That theme of sailing against the tides, never giving up, scanning sea-faring night skies for a twist of fate and fingers crossed, hope for the best, and innocent optimism makes ‘Southpaw Ninos’ special. Best served raw and raucous, comes highly recommended.