CALUM INGRAM – ‘THE MAN’

May Album of the Month

(5/5)

Sometimes you need a different vinyl in your album collection. Music buyers often like to collect albums from their favourite bands, and rockers often like to swim in relatively safe, known waters. A bit like a leather jacket-clad tribe all going on a ski holiday and keeping to the fun – but unchallenging – blue runs. Sometimes though you need to go off-piste, embrace the unknown, be excited by what’s different and remember what it really feels like to be alive.

‘The Man’ from Calum Ingram will do this to your music collection. It’ll be different to everything else in it, but it will shake things up a bit and – I have a feeling – it will be one of those one-off wildcards you keep pulling off the vinyl shelf for a spin when you want something different to listen to: When it’s time to go off-piste and have some fun.

Understated but unapologetically original is my take on the feel of this album. A rich fusion of genre influences and Calum’s electric cello overlays things, injecting a palette of textures and expressions that are different to the range you would expect from an electric guitar.

This album also left me thinking about how the cello’s expression and range compares to the normal electric guitar. It yearns with sorrow, it growls, it counterpoints with the safe – and it also brings anger and drama. It’s hugely interesting, for one album, to hear something different that’s done with conviction. And that alone makes this album one well worth buying for your vinyl collection.

And thinking of vinyl collectors, we all know how important the artwork is: done well, it’s a symbiotic marriage of art with music, an artistic phenomenon diluted in the CD age and, since then, something that has lost all meaning among the generation that like to rent songs (or tunes as some now call them) in the age of streaming. Calum Ingram’s album proudly restores the marriage of art and music. The cover features original art from Rosalind Shrinivas, which is curious but links directly to the music and the violet vinyl somehow just feels right. The art and music together is warmly inviting and yet also a bit of an enigma. But isn’t that the point of art – the narrative and the presentation shouldn’t always be obvious. With this package of art and music, open your mind, give it time and it will reward you.

As for the music itself, for me it’s chilled and soulful with original moments of drama and interesting moments of experimentation. There is a hybrid retro context – with nods perhaps to John Mayer or Peter Gabriel – but the instrumental mix and arrangement makes it utterly fresh and contemporary. The quality of the playing is classy throughout, but the music doesn’t have to be shouty to impress.

For people that like music in neatly-packaged genre boxes, this album might leave you scratching your head. What is it? – Rock? Pop? Indie? Folk? Disco? It’s music that’s got a bit of everything in it and serves as a reminder to us all that music, by its nature, should arguably be a form without boundaries. Throughout the record, you get a clear sense that here’s a guy enjoying what he does, experimenting, synthesizing and counterpointing in interesting ways. He’s creating music for music’s sake – and that’s enough in itself.

As a person, I’ve got to know Calum a little through a run of interviews we’ve done together over time. He has a great sense of humour, but beneath this he’s serious about his art. As a musician, he has a clear vision of the role of The Arts as a form of social glue and his work with refugees and artists from far-flung locations underlines an authenticity in his passion to unite people through music. In the age of over-heated chart campaigns where bands risk conforming to a look and marketing style than can make them look the same, with Calum we have quiet but assured musical individualism; a confidence and a difference that is most welcome. The music product delivered with this album is eclectic, sometimes eccentric, but it’s also musically interesting and a lot of fun.

The first two songs – ‘The Man’ and ‘Burn It Down’ carry a toe-tapping retro 70’s vibe mashing the world of disco and rock. I’m not quite sure who ‘The Man’ is – there could be a hint of School of Rock’s rebellion, but it could also be a celebration of family members and role models. The ambiguity here is good, the art is open for everyone’s own sense of interpretation.

‘Cup of Urafain’ presents good storytelling. Calum’s cello lends a more orchestral sense of panorama and atmosphere that arguably goes beyond where an electric guitar can go. The range of textures from the cello here is really interesting, this is a song with different levels within it, rich in drama and expression. Very original but also a serious message about fixing a broken world during a time of political polarisation and division.

‘Show Me The Way’ was originally a single, which announced Calum’s return to the Monday rockshow and was well-received by listeners. The percussion has Santana vibes, maybe this is the Santana oeuvre for electric cello? Throughout, the interplay of percussion, keys and cello gives the song an absorbing persona.

The ballad ‘How You Move Me’ is well arranged. Another album song with piano. Good control, there’s light and shade but it’s not overblown and nothing needs to be showy to impress.

I really enjoyed ‘World Around Us’ with its industrial, guttural growl. A song that suggests it’s time to take control back and look after the world a bit better than we do. The menace suggests the clock is ticking – and we need to get on with it.

The album’s final trio of songs work well together and, for me, are the highlight of the album. The John Martyn cover ‘Small Hours’ is a late night song to enjoy with a glass or red. A ballad, nostalgic and melancholic – this is one for the heart but the cello gives the normal an original edge.

‘Strong And Alone’ conveys emotional strength and sincerity – with warming, cultural cross-currents on the chorus. The electric solo is richly expressive and, for me as a rocker, this song feels more like a Hothouse Flowers song than anything from the leather-clad world of classic rock – but the music is better for it.

‘Japan’ is the perfect closer. I love the electric riff the cello brings. This song is one of those anthems that will unite people in a concert hall at the end of a show, and it closes this album with class and a spirit of hope – music’s ability to re-charge our hearts as it helps make our lives a bit better and to see life through a slightly more hopeful lens.

There’s no ‘stand out’ radio single on this, no engineered wizardry that makes this easy music for playlists. There’s no rock song with the predicable big solo. And put simply, this music doesn’t need any of this. This music is from the heart; it’s not showy or shouty but it is interesting, intriguing and different. There is great musicianship and thoughtful arranging but it is done in a subtle way – which, for me, makes it a smart album.

For May, it has been incredibly difficult to pick an Album of the Month. There are many strong releases dropping this month and they all have their own merits and are all worth a listen. This one won’t compete against the marketing machine noise of some others, but it’s an album not to be ignored or passed over. Many won’t get it because it doesn’t fit into a neat box, but that is exactly why this album matters. We don’t need more of the same, in the rising music scene we need to celebrate statements of artistic difference and originality. And on these counts, Calum may be standing tall – strong and alone – but we’ll join him in sticking it to The Man.

Order a vinyl copy of ‘The Man’ and discover more about Calum Ingram’s music at www.calumingram.com

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