Liverpool Sound and Vision Rating * * * *

Let The Night Begin in earnest, shake loose the dust that has collected and starting to crust over from days of intolerable boredom and frustrating stillness, for in the night, during the dark hours we can feel the earthly magic, the connection between long distance sound and the resonance of spirit, denied, crushed by suit, collar, and tie, and the ledger of the permanently stressed.

There is nothing to be scared of in the simmering nightly dark, especially when there is the objectivity of illumination offered freely by those with a clear soul inhabiting their wares and their time. The night is a place of freedom, where we can encounter strangeness and formidable dreams, close our eyes and add to the illusion of imagery; and to that we require a sound track, a collection of songs on a daily basis that complement the hours and the essence with a swiftness of excitement and a heart full of courage to see through the veil alone.

The Americana and Blues guitarist Troy Mercy, a man who cut his teeth working with the likes of Booker T, Muddy Waters, and Kim Wilson, and his wild and untamed, generously communicative and consistent debut solo recording hits home with fire of art, a conflagration of palpitations and live wires poking their intentions from the bomb of creativity with confidence and humility in equal measure.

Let The Night Begin maybe mercy in name but not in delivery, each tracksmashes into the mind and lays the foundations for the listener to feel the blessing of favourable mischief, of understanding that in songs such as the opener Cheap Machine, Compromised Blues (A Spy Goodbye), Love Is A Hurt,  A Place Of Our Own, and the finale of Who’s Laughing Now, the night is not about darkness, it is the absolution that illumination reveals, that the shadows don’t matter if they can be filled with brilliance and the cool wind of radiance.

Troy Mercy delivers that with abundance, with precision and pleasure; Let The Night Begin is where it starts and never falters.

Ian D. Hall