Liverpool Sound and Vision Rating 9/10
A restoration of faith in music, if it should ever be required, that a person through the medium of sound can add thought, an idea, place inquisitiveness into the mind of the listener and have them desperate for more; this is the achievement all artists, of sound and the visual, of the silent passion and the direct meaning, all strive for; but seldom does it have a truth hidden in the meaning of which the one intended to receive can at first hearing decipher.
Art is about being direct, rarely subtle, in an age where the route of information is such that it comes at us all as if being hurled by a spear thrown by Hector at the raging form of Achilles, aimed for with purpose, designed to slaughter, but missing the point of true and confirming resolution. However, being direct is not often required, we can be more informed by the beauty of the restrained, the elusive, the whisper of the delicate and sensitive, for they reside with more shimmering muscle than the quick argument intended to wound.
Rob Clarke’s latest album, Opiope is a case in point, it is built for the occasion of the battle ahead, but it understands that depth and feeling in quiet waters ensnare more than just the casual listener, it builds a rapport of adventure, of offering synergy, of cooperation, a meeting between minds and one never allowed to dissipate like mist being burnt off by the rays of any celestial hotspot.
Across tracks such as Dr. Donald, the gorgeous Blue Day For A Black Swan, the imagery within of Heart For Advertising, At The Office, and Last Summer, the inner turmoils and aggression, the patience and the stamina of every piece flows like a torrent of water filled with a multitude of bottles carrying messages, some cryptic, others open to interpretation, all a wonderful mystery to unfold; and whilst each song carries innate cool, there is much to discover underneath, a blinding light that insists that Opiope is more than a measure of songs, it is a handshake between conspirators and friends.
A pounding album of security, meat and power, this is an album to which deserves Rob Clarke’s greatest attention yet.
Ian D. Hall