Les Thomas: I Remember Everything. Album Review.

Liverpool Sound and Vision Rating 8.5/10

Time is such that we protect ourselves by allowing certain memories to not only fade, but become extinct, be removed completely, and without mercy just so can live a little easier with the consequences of actions that took place. We do this not out of shame, but out of a kind of compassion to our soul.

For many though the act of such leniency is tantamount to betrayal, we must allow ourselves the pain after all of reconciling the damaging and harmful aspects we have inflicted upon others and ourselves with the sense of benefit we are seen at times to convey to the wider world, to our neighbours, to our own hearts; into this we are confident when we stand alone and say with certainty, “I Remember Everything”.

Australian singer songwriter Les Thomas understands this truth and pressed down hard on the personal reflection and conscience in his brand-new album, I Remember Everything.

The recording of the album is one of sweet nostalgia wrapped in security of unburdening connection; it is the harbouring soul of secrets and brooding confidences that seeks out the intimate and places trust in every sacred memory, good, bad, indifferent, they all lead to the hear and now, and the sacrament is such that it unveils and faithful narrative unblemished by skipped events and crossed out dues.

By affirming to the truth of life, Les Thomas underlines what it means to be human, separating the fact and fiction, the fragments of reminiscence that with hindsight are always powerfully skewed, and what remains is the body of proof that to be sincere everything must be considered, retained, and spoken of with certainty.

Across tracks such as The Last Of The Old Holdens, The Life Of Eloise, Oh Geronimo, The Firing Line, and the album title track of I Remember Everything, Les Thomas, alongside Joshua Jones, Trev Fernandez, Justin Olsson, Craig Kelly, Jason Bunn, and Ben Franz on their respective instruments, as well as Trudy Fatnowna Edgeley, Mandy Connell, Kyana, Suzie So Blue and Emma Ryan on harmony vocals, provides the listener with what is seen as more than resolution in the conflict of broken lives and tangled recollections, but an attitude of forgiveness to the mind for allowing some moments to fade, that the hurt is not worth the self-punishment.

A wonderfully adept album, frank, understanding, final, a crafted measure of songs designed to show the listener honesty in a world that craves the lie.

Ian D. Hall