None Of The Above Dept.

Back to front ... front to back

Shawn Phillips has been FoamFeatured© antecedently - most of the good stuff already has. But Second Contribution was the album I immersed myself in (although we didn't use the word back then, except for taking a bath) in 1970, and still do. It's playing as we speak. Press your ear to the wall - hear it?

The first track has one of the longest song titles ever published (Fairport Convention beats it) - She Was Waiting For Her Mother At The Station In Torino And You Know I Love You Baby But It's Getting Too Heavy To Laugh. What-type song might you expect from that? Possibly not the slow build and strings you get. He's not exactly top-loading the single here. A flowing suite of songs that lean on each other follows, propelled by his fearsome acoustic strumming, and the side finishes with the beautiful Ballad Of Casey Deiss. Phillips sings about his friends with great affection (even asking after one of his musicians on this album in a song on the next). His lyrics, as ever, veer closely into pretentiousness, but credit to him for writing like absolutely no-one else. And there's his voice. It's Olympian. Soars into the clouds, plumbs oceanic depths, never forced, always true.

Side Deux follows the first, in being a suite of songs tagged with a more conventional, stand-alone song. Phillips never had any trouble attracting first-rate musicians, and his musical partners here are the awesome Paul Buckmaster, who plays, arranges, and writes, with Bruce Rowland, Jim Creegan (another friend to be namechecked in a song), Peter Robinson and Poli Palmer. Where he'd used Traffic as his core band on Contribution, here it's Family, with Buckmaster's restrained and dry orchestration integral to the sound, never falling into cliché. It's unclassifiable. Not a conventional singer-songwriter album, not even close to prog although some elements are in place, not a straightforward rock album; none of the above. And that's what the man continued to be - none of the above. He's still alive and making music, although even a fan like me has to admit his imperial period - basically the astonishing run at A&M - is long over.

This album has been a close and valued friend for over half a freaking century. Did I imagine back then, my dreams of escaping gray-skied suburbia somehow colored by his voice, that I'd be a grizzled old man living in Siam, still listening to this? Of course I didn't, but if I'd been given a glimpse of the future, I think I'd have been surprised, and happy. It's been a trip, and Shawn's been along for the ride, and bless you, Mr. Phillips.