John Martyn
The Island Years
Retro 18-disc boxed set of tempestuous singer-songwriter, with extras and alternative takes.
John Martyn didn’t just bring an immense talent to British music, he brought his own micro-climate. In his booze-soaked private life, he could he a stormy personality – his ex-wife Beverley’s memoir makes disturbing reading. Lyrically, however, he was deeply emotional, maudlin even, as if atoning for his worst excesses. He sometimes seemed embarrassed about it, being reticent in interviews and engaging in matey banter between songs, as seen in the DVD anthology of TV appearances in this collection. including an unreleased 1986 Town & Country Club set. But he uniquely matched his plaintive lyrical content with liquid folk. blues, dub and Echoplex guitar treatments.
His earliest albums. I 967’s London Conversation and 1968’s The Tumbler, earned his troubadour spurs and adopted blues mannerisms. His joint albums with Beverley feel as awkward as couples in matching kagouls: two very different voices side by side. It’s only with 1971’s Bless The Weather that he begins to find his own – the vocals melt into the overall atmosphere. with Glistening Glyndebourne introducing the rotorblading Echoplex, at which point he really takes off. A disc of a gig at the Hanging Lamp in 1972 sees him get to grips with the device.
The sequence of albums from Solid Air through One World are essential Martyn (with the exception of 1973’s slightly off Inside Out). All are supplemented with radio sessions and alternative takes, the pick of which is a 17-minute plus version of Black Man At Your Shoulder. a helicopter ride into the recesses of Martyn’s sound and soul.
Next came 1980’s Grace And Danger, his much-lauded breakup album, though in retro it smacks lyrically of the emotional pleas of a man who doesn’t acknowledge the wrong he’s done to his partner. It’s also produced by Phil Collins and, as with the remainder of Martyn’s albums, replaces his still-vibrant 70s sonic innovations with overwrought, state-of-the-vocals art but date-stamped studio productions. All feature here, including his final, unreleased 1987 Island album, The Apprentice.
Even so, the raging fires of Martyn’s talent roar through the mix. A true genius, in all his terrible beauty.
David Stubbs
Classic Rock Magazine
1 November 2013
