Yahoo! Music Album Review

Released on 22/05/06
Label: 679

Martin Craft - once of '90s Australian nearlyweres Sidewinder and now residing in the parish of Dalston - may insist in official briefings that he is anti-fashion, but there's much to suggest he wouldn't mind being this year's Jose Gonzalez. To be a sensitive, but not wet, singer songwriter like the bearded Swede - and it's really very difficult - it's imperative to quietly hint, without trying so hard the veins pop out on your neck, that you've lived through experiences a little tougher than A-levels, and had nights somewhat more eventful than the graduation ball.

Craft does this beautifully. His softly-voiced, introspective, gently-primped electracoustic ditties are rescued from the shallows of Lake Wimp by a quiet, seasoned confidence and subtly crafted moments of gaiety. "Silver & Fire" is even more rewarding a listen than 2004's "I Can See It All Tonight" EP - not all that surprising when you consider it's twice as long, and that two of the latter's finest tracks reappear here.

A parade of women - lost loves, new loves and colourful characters - provide inspiration for the most sonically vivid tracks. The nostalgic "Emily Snow" is an opportunity for some Martinis-aloft, wide-lapelled bossanova, and girly backing vocals suggesting a fondness for Astrud Gilberto and Sergio Mendez. "You Are The Music" might be Bill Withers or Fleetwood Mac while "Lucille (Where Did The Love Go?)" offsets a sweet 'n' breezy beat-pop melody with kerrazily psychedelic "Eight Miles High" guitar mess.

"Snowbird" tells the tale of a derailed female art student, its ever-increasingly delirious, snare-driven Latin grooves leavening what is, if we're honest, a slightly hokey morality tale. "Sweets" is the pick of the bunch: a bootclickingly peppy, Serge Gainsbourg-esque skit of sparring girl/boy dialogue about a street corner hooker Craft would obviously like to take home to E8 and give a bath.

Even the girl-less tracks, more subtly carved, captivate: the Elliott Smith-like, banjo-laced "I Got Nobody Waiting For Me" manages to be both singleton-desperate and erotic at once ("I've got nobody left to impress / No neck for my lips to caress / As I work out the buttoned-up back of a dress"). "Dragonfly" is a hypnotic, layered, slice of wide-eyed, cosmic universe wonderment that owes something to both The Beta Band and Stereolab. It's not perfect, and it took a worrying amount of time to appear (Sidewinder stopped making records in 1998), but few debut albums from male solo artists are blessed with this much style, poise and maturity.

    by Anna Britten