Along with the early work of Travis and Deejay Punk-Roc, small scale British indie label Independiente released ‘Crazy On The Weekend’ by Sunhouse towards the end of the Nineties. It remains a special record, lost amongst the impenetrable detritus of the Britpop death rattle when it should have been held aloft. Those people who were lucky enough to encounter it at the time still hold it dear. Somewhere between folk and rock with a snarly edge and warmly weathered vocals, it is one of frustratingly few offering from Gavin Clark over the years.
The quite remarkable voice at the heart of that debut, as well as several albums by Clayhill, Clark died unexpectedly in February of this year aged only 46. He had been working on a collaboration with Toydrum, a duo formed by UNKLE collaborators Pablo Clements and James Griffiths, building on previous successful encounters with both bands. In the months that followed, these songs were completed in tribute to a lost friend.
Conceived as a loosely autobiographical concept record built around the highs, lows and failures of vice-prone preacher, ‘Evangelist’ is a varied but intense listen. It ranges from the kind of spacious acoustic songs for which Shane Meadows often turned to Clark when building the soundtracks for his work, to the shuddering combustion of ‘God Song’ on which the preacher figure cuts loose. The one coherent factor is a voice that is imbued with perhaps too much humanity. Clark was known for suffering from crippling anxiety and the aforementioned Meadows had previously produced a film about his attempts to get his friend back on the stage. A natural star he was not, and that tension always manifested itself in stirring fashion in his recordings. Whether solo acoustic or atop a wall of electronic noise, his ragged, aching tone is captivating.
‘Same Hands’ stomps along with shuddering drums and marauding synths adding a murky edge, while ‘I’m In Love Tonight’ is a brooding, claustrophobic piece that is held together magically by the trademark violin work of Warren Ellis. Another noteworthy participant is Clark’s eldest son Michael, who provides backing vocals on ‘The World That I Created’ and ‘Never Feel This Young’. The former is the record’s brief opener, the fuse which sets the story of the Evangelist alight, while the latter is its longest track which builds to the sort of fuzzy chorus that wouldn’t have been out of place on that Sunhouse record back in 1998. It features a piano coda from Ludovico Einaudi, somebody with whom Clark had previously worked as part of the musical textures for Meadows’ ‘This Is England’ series. It is one of many well-judged touches which make this release a fitting tribute to a remarkable artist.
The album’s best moment is also its most sparse. ‘Whirlwind Of Rubbish’ is essentially just Clark and his acoustic, a neatly unsettling synth backdrop aside, and his quite beautiful vocal feels like he’s singing just for you. Concluding with the line “the old life is over”, it is utterly heartbreaking and perhaps a little too bleak a note upon which to conclude proceedings. As a result, the cello-assisted ‘Holy Holy’ offers a swirling devotional upon which to draw a line under a fascinating record.
It is mystifying and rather sad that Clark’s talent wasn’t more appreciated while he was still with us, but ‘Evangelist’ should ensure that a new audience becomes acquainted with one of the finest songwriters of modern times. Clements and Griffiths have sculpted something truly special out of their final time with their friend and, while too late for all of the numerous lists, it deserves to be held up as one of the most affecting and impressive releases of a difficult year.
For the initiated, I’ve included some of Gavin’s other wonderful work below: