Jonathan Markwood, Black Against The Sun. Album Review.

Liverpool Sound and Vision Rating * * * *

The Winter is a time in which the lands of the North feel the cold winds more and the thoughts of the bleak and mistrusting frost is ever present in their minds and the image of the sun is but that of a shining glimmering bauble in the sky, neither use nor ornament in the fabric of the lives of those in desperate need of warmth on their backs and in their hearts. Warmth therefore is searched for in other directions and if the heat of a blazing fire cannot be found then the soul of a musician is the closest possible alternative and in Jonathan Markwood’s new album Black Against The Sun, that alternative is more than complimentary, it is a guiding inevitability.

Jonathan Markwood’s prowess has already stood firm in the release to the album Welcome To Planet Earth and in this, the eagerly awaited follow up, that dedication to the music is one of remarkable beauty and overwhelming constructed appeal, from the explosive start to the softening reflection that sits at the heart of Killing All The Good Guys, Jonathan Markwood makes time for the album to mirror that of the life of the great celestial dance that is hidden from beneath the clouds and our judgemental perceptive and offers the listener the chance to glean something of the great beyond that dwells within us all; the starburst of existence made tangible and real.

Mr. Markwood’s music sits comfortably in the ear; it plays with perception and yet at all times is a true and honest appraisal of the man himself. In songs such as Ghosts on the Surface of the Moon, the excellent Heaven Will Not Hold A Place For Me, Dear Mr. Johnson and the finality offered in Killing All The Good Guys, honour is evident, respect for the listener paramount and the nobility of the song as an entity as dashing and adventurous as the early spacecrafts that took humanity on the very first steps off the blue stone marble we call home.

Black Against The Sun is of the same enamoured quality as its predecessor, principled and kind, a measure of the artist in his own work and one that is a joy to listen to.

Ian D. Hall