*** Richard Davies
BARBARIANS
(Kindercore)
Richard Davies has the cult
artist's knack for either staying one step ahead of what little limelight is
cast upon him or shrinking from the glare of recognition entirely, preferring
instead to lurk in shadows of his own making. Davies got his start back in '91
with the short-lived avant-indie outfit the Moles, then formed the critically
lauded Cardinal with Eric Matthews a few years later. After making one quietly
perfect album that updated the Left Banke and the Zombies and set a standard
for '90s-style chamber pop, Davies bolted for a solo career.
Although he's upped the rock quotient and pared back the support staff this
time around, the Sydney songwriter's impeccable third outing doesn't sound
terribly different from his previous solo discs, There's Never Been a Crowd
like This and Telegraph. Which means there's another flower bed of
fragrant pickings here, from the gilded majesty of "Coldest Day" to the
clandestine, jasmine-scented interlude of "Palo Alto" to the mildly hungover
street scenes that swirl amid "Formulas." As always, Davies writes with casual,
if opaque, eloquence about what he sees around him, offering a glimpse of
detail here and a morsel of introspection there, but never standing still in
the sunlight long enough to be recognized.
-- Jonathan Perry
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