Oliver Light, The Clockwork Within. Album Review.

Liverpool Sound and Vision Rating * * * *

Time is an illusion, yet it is one that humanity can no longer live without, for the passing of the day means nothing to our minds unless it is filled with notches, hourly, quarterly, each minute carefully allotted set tasks, moments in the sun, the sense that in the end light will follow dark and in between we have to fill the space around us with something, electronic or pulse driven, mechanical or solar, nothing truly represents Time than The Clockwork Within.

The former leader of the band Traffic Lights, Oliver Light, has already produced music in which he has more than made his mark on the world and now in his first completely self produced album, The Clockwork Within, the guitarist and song writer takes on the meaning of time.

In much the same way that The Moody Blues tackled the time in between the day in their seminal 1967 album Days of Future Passed, Oliver Light bows gently to the edge of British Rock and the symphonic feel and establishes a cosmos within our own world and in our own body’s appreciation of the structure of Time as an entity rather than just numbers on a clock face.

The sound of the Progressive is always one to hang onto with a sense of pride, in many ways it signals invention, it generates design and forward thinking and if being Progressive wasn’t enough, it is ability to look at Time, not as an enemy, the devourer of the day’s events, but as a friend, hungry yes but one that is willing to share the dinner table with you.

It is the Progressive that carries Oliver Light’s album, a selection of songs that rouse, harness the energy of the day and eventually lull you safely into the arms of Morpheus, the day is over and in the thoughts of The Moody Blues, the night is when love and the darkness meet to kiss the sleep away.

In songs such as Summer Days, Empty Spaces, Don’t Let It Get To You and Victoria Vs Venus, Oliver Light truly comes across as an artist of deep thinking introspection and a lively keen mind. His willingness to see Time as a fluid beast of burden, one that may snarl but can be ultimately benevolent, does him absolute justice. The music is sensual, a daring lover in silk and satin prowling the day waiting for you to come home and care for it; Time may be an illusion but it should still be loved with all its might and The Clockwork Within is a great advocate of the story contained in its heart.

Ian D. Hall