When he tried to sum up singer Richard Thompson's place in the grand scheme of the alt-rock pantheon in 1994, Spin/San Francisco Bay Guardian contributor Dirk Richardson wrote:
“Even when his impeccably crafted tunes are covered by such established stars as Bonnie Raitt, R.E.M., or David Byrne – as they were on 1994's, Beat The Retreat – Richard Thompson eludes mainstream accessibility. Thompson never shared '60's peers' optimistic faith in social progress. That's why X, Bob Mould and Dinosaur Jr. were logical tribute album participants; their punk-derived aesthetic was in tune with his abiding sense of impending doom. Before Beck was even born, Thompson had garnered a core audience of losers. And for more than 25 years he's challenged folk and rock orthodoxies with musical qualities – such as Celtic and Arabic drones in both his singing and guitar picking – that underscore his outsider sensibility and assure his perennial cult status.”
While very articulate and at least semi-positive, it's pretty safe to say (and listening to Walking On A Wire removes any doubt of this) that Richardson was only about half right. The language and directions he went in are on the mark – in many ways, Richard Thompson did foreshadow romantically stunted alt-rock staples like Beck, and much of the indie community does indeed identify with him – but, in listening to Walking On A Wire now, it becomes evident how far off Richardson was in his analysis of the ties that bind the different directions in which Thompson has gone over the last four decades. “Loser?” Maybe, but more accurate would be to look closer and see the underlying emotional drive in Thompson's songwriting and who he's chosen to share his time in front of the mic with. It's true the singer is not at all optimistic, but what Walking On A Wire makes plain is the fact that, at some point early on, Richard Thompson got emotionally wounded so badly that it colored his vision forevermore and he has waged his own little war on love and nearly every romantic trapping in pop ever since. The battles have never been right up front and plain for listeners to see on an album-to-album basis but, if one takes a cross section of material as Walking On A Wire does, the methodologies become plain as day: by degrees and with different emotional backing as the push, in every case it has been love that spurred Richard Thompson to pick up a pen.
With that assertion in hand, there is no question that the damage had already been done by the time Richard Thompson allied with Fairport Convention in 1967. While the hippy dippy San Franciscan chord progressions and stock vocal harmonies are all standard issue for their day and time, almost unnoticed in songs like “Time Will Show The Wiser” and “Meet On The Ledge” are the underlying, almost subliminal messages of heartache and woe in lyrics like, “My mind keeps on telling me that this is no good/and my heart is aching, and tells me I should/but only time will show the wiser” (from “Time Will Show The Wiser”) and gut-wrenching melodies like that in “Meet Me On The Ledge.” The songs themselves are welcoming and warm, but all love is lost between Thompson and his subject in this early going and the first skirmishes played out unbeknownst to listeners. While it would only come to light later, it was very rebellious for its day; while hippies were still claiming that love would conquer all, Thompson was already beyond that and into far darker personal places.
That doesn't mean he was always there though. After Fairport Convention, Richard Thompson went to absolute basics with his wife Linda and rediscovered the simplicity and intrinsic beauty of the folk duet. This period is the most commercially viable of Thompson's career, and it's easy to understand why; the love and intimacy is easily recognizable in the duet harmonies and soft, loping chord progressions of songs like “I Want To See The Bright Lights Tonight” as well as the remarkably candid “I'll Regret It All In The Morning” and “For Sham Of Doing Wrong” but this is where Thompson – for all of the obvious faults outlined in the songs – was at his most happy; even if it was all very tempestuous too. Discs One and Two collect the high (and thematic low) lights of this time for Walking On A Wire and tells a Cliff's Notes account of the story beautifully; but those discs also lead audiences to the painfully apparent conclusion that every storybook does – to all good things, an end must come.
And it does – hard. Disc Three etches out the image of a demolished spirit and also provides moments from Richard Thompson's lowest point. With songs like “She Twists The Knife Again,” “Waltzing's For Dreamers” and “I Misunderstood,” Thompson throws as much distance between himself and the sound the developed with his wife as he's able; veering between Talking Heads-esque, danceable balladry and spidery, layered rockers that, other than the subject matter, bear no resemblance at all to his old, tender folkie persona. For what it's worth, these songs do showcase Thompson's growth as a ready, warhorse rock veteran, but there's no doubt that something is dead and gone forever here (check out the lugubrious horns of “I Still Dream”) and that vibe doesn't show any sign of fading by disc's end (the song that closes Disc Three is called “Razor Dance” – if you need help on the meaning, stop reading this review right now). Because of that, Disc Three also showcases the singer at his most off-putting; other than the obviously macabre tones in the vocals, modal shifts poke through songs like “I Can't Wake Up To Save My Life,” “Taking My Business Elsewhere” and “Mingus Eyes.”
By Disc Four, the hatred and most of the anger has passed (“Persuasion” is still pretty biting) and Richard Thompson hasn't healed up so much as chosen to ignore and/or bury the pain for the purposes of sanity salvation and, while not particularly healthy from a personal standpoint, the closing disc of this set does showcase the new dalliances that the singer has tried since 1996. Those dozen albums are represented here, but very, very lightly and it all picks back up as the the singer starts having fun again (see “Cooksferry Queen”) and finally lightens up a bit. In each case, the gaps close a little more with each successive track and the songwriting is improving again to levels comparable with the material recorded in the Seventies.
That Walking On A Wire sees fit to include every note of the story is two things: 1.) Very brave because this shit gets really dark, and 2.) a very captivating and engrossing sonic storybook. The upside to Richard Thompson being a very personal writer is that no portion of his story gets omitted from this box set and, in addition to being able to follow it through the songs, the full-color, sixty-page book shows photos of every step along the way too. The story is arresting; it's classic and that is why Richard Thompson has evaded “mainstream accessibility” but has a songbook that will live forever, as long as hearts are getting broken, people will find Richard Thompson. His music is soul food for the wounded spirit and Walking On A Wire pulls together the best feast.
Artist:
www.richardthompson-music.com/
www.myspace.com/poppyredrt
Album:
Walking On A Wire is out now. Buy it on Amazon .
