MUSiC: Lewis Taylor

Occasionally I binge listen to the sublime sounds of lost legend Lewis Taylor. Yesterday was one such day.

I’m also working out my own version of Lovelight on guitar’n’vocals. I imagine anyone that hears me constantly cycling through choruses – ‘Baby when you’re with me, who do think you’re fooling…’ – in a tortured falsetto, strumming away on a constantly varying cycle of experimental chord voicings, entertains thoughts of sectioning me, or perhaps murder?

Lewis Taylor is, in my view, a singular musical genius. It appears from the scant evidence that he belongs in the ‘tortured’ category of that august lineage. So much so he’s retired himself from the music biz. I have more than some little sympathy, as in my own humbler far more low-level half-arsed way, I’ve done the same.

It appears he really wasn’t happy being that Lewis Taylor person, pursuing those ephemeral dreams. ‘Tis a pity for us devoted listeners and admirers, as he had an unusual and special gift, musically speaking. A prodigiously talented multi-instrumentalist chameleon, he could write, perform and produce his own material (he did get quite a bit if help from Sabina Smyth [1], on a significant portion of his output), playing, guitars, keys, bass, singing, and programming other parts, such strings and drum, percussion, electronica, etc.

The chameleon aspect manifested in his ability to do everything from Little Lewis, ’50s style rock’n’roll, to psychedelic rock, to pure uncut pop, soul, funk, and all kinds of blends of all sorts of eclectic stuff, even extending to an astonishing and brilliant tribute to Captain Beefheart’s Trout Mask Replica.

There are times when this scarily dizzying ability loses or confuses me, mostly when, as on his Stoned, Part II album, he goes for the more commercial/pop vibe. And mixed in with genius there are flecks of less-inspired traits, from pastiche to confusion, perhaps even exasperation, making his musical output like some kind of sonic nougat; not to everyone’s taste, sometimes overly sweet, and spangled with so many differing flavours as to be almost bewildering.

But the amount of time he strikes a nerve, like a mad musical dentist drilling unaesthetised into a nerve ending that strikes to the cerebral cortex in an instant and dazzling firework display, he hits sublime notes that shimmer in a sublime kaleidoscopic explosion of pure fantabulousness… I’m frequently left a breathless, ecstatic, tearful mess. And music that can do that has got to be some kind of special.

One of the things that really seals the deal on his genius for me is the wide variety of interpretations of his own musical muse he can conjure forth. So on the one hand he might do a cover that eclipses the original in its intense beauty (Brian Wilson’s Melt Away), or he’ll perform an original that could stand as a highlight of someone else’s whole career (too many to cite, but I’ll pick Leader Of The Band for now), and on the other he’ll recast the same piece several ways, sometimes even within the same recording.

Lovelight would be a good example of this, with three versions I know of. Ranging from the stripped down live sounding version on In Session (2005?), to the original ‘West Coast’ rendition (to be found on 2002/2004’s Limited Edition), or the more commercially minded Stoned, Pt. 1 version (2002). All of these are brilliant in differing ways.

Another instance of this are the versions of If I Lay Down With You, one that’s an almost solo acoustic rendering, whilst the other is a lush soul jam, with shades of early ’70s Marvin Gaye. The solo acoustic version really rams home how incredibly beautiful the melody and chords of this piece are. Astonishing!

For me it’s essential I track down and listen to everything I can find by this maverick genius. I don’t like all it equally. His early Sheriff Jack recordings don’t do it for me, and some of his more commercial poppy stuff starts to lose me, as does some of his more experimental electronica-heavy productions. But it’s the sheer freedom and verve he has, allowing him to do all this, which impresses, astonishes, and when it comes together really moves me.

For my money he’s hands down the best solo artist to have come out of Britain in recent times. And it’s a sad sign of these times that neither he nor the industry knew how to handle, let alone nurture, his extraordinary talent.

What saddens most, is the awareness that such incredible inventiveness and fecundity might’ve given us so many more musical riches to savour. As it is, we should be thankful for what we have, and celebrate and treasure it. And when I listen to my favourite Lewis – and I’m constantly surprised and in awe when I go back and listen again – it gladdens my heart.

Lewis Taylor, wherever you are, whatever you’re doing, thank you sooo much for all the glorious music. And if you have any more to share, please do.

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NOTES:

The most up to date, or ‘where is he now’ type thing I’ve found on LT is this:

souljones.com – LT interview

[1] Smyth is perhaps even more mysteriously shadowy and elusive as Taylor.

[2] I first discovered Lewis Taylor thanks to Gilles Peterson playing Whoever on his radio show, many, many moons ago. It was love at first sound. Thanks Gilles!

[3] This looks intriguing, and I don’t have it. Must investigate! At first glance it appears to be a 3-track US promo, taken from a radio broadcast. Must get it, somehow!