Kevin Critchley, As I Disappear. Album Review.

Liverpool Sound and Vision Rating * * * *

In all of us there are times in which the urge to disappear, to walk away from all that surrounds and consumes us, when its either overwhelming to the point where one day your best friend suddenly finds you have left the country and are now contemplating eating lentils and enjoying a spiritual uplifting moment in Tibet or at the very least your loved one might come across a journal in which you have kept with an eye on the future in which cutting logs outside of a wooden cabin in the depths of the Canadian wilderness.

To disappear though is something that Kevin Critchley should and must avoid, the music he creates is of such a discerning quality that it not only tugs at the heart strings, it plays them like a violin being teased by an angel, the string producing notes as sheer as a pair of stockings being paraded at the Moulin Rouge and the whisper of expectation hanging heavily in the air.

Kevin Critchley’s latest offering to the world is the tantalising As I Disappear, an album jammed full to the brink of songs which captivate, that seem to joyfully mourn the passing of time and capture the mindset of a musician full of hope in new beginnings but also conscious, perhaps even suitably wary, of the past and his place in the future and what music means when stacked up against the day to day needs of Humanity’s collective soul.

The spectre of past accomplishments are at times easily forgotten but they have a habit of tormenting the future, they suggest in quiet repose that all you have completed is all you will ever complete, that to keep plugging away can be a worthless pursuit. This is just the echoes of past jealousy rearing its ugly head, for any artist the future may be frighteningly unknown but it is one full of hope. In songs such as Whisper Your Name, Brother, the unnerving potential in Saboteur and the gut wrenching brilliance of Tracks of Betrayal hope kicks the backside of the thought of walking away so hard that you learn very quickly that there is always a place for you, no matter how small, no matter how grand, you just have to remember that to disappear is not an option but to listen to As I disappear is one that you will never regret.

Kevin Critchley once more opens up his soul and the beautiful beast that resides there is one to appreciate fully.

Ian D. Hall