NATHAN HALL AND THE SINISTER LOCALS - POINTING PAW

I always get a bit anxious when I’m asked to write a review of a new record, but fortunately it doesn’t happen very often. I find I’m a lot better at listening to music than I am of describing it – I don’t have the required way with words, or a clever way with similes – and, frankly, I don’t have the gift to describe what’s going on in a tune, or whether it’s good or not, but despite this, I know what I like: I like a good tune; a good melody – the sort of thing a milkman could cheerfully whistle while he delivers a pint to your doorstep – and I like music to be clever; I like to be able to think “Oh, that’s pretty”, or “That’s clever”, and mostly I like to be able to think both these things about a song or an album at the same time. One of the reasons I’m drawn to psychedelic music is that, by its very nature, it has to be clever; it has to have that something extra going on – an extra bit of reverb, or a backwards guitar, or tape loops or some studio trickery – but something clever, nevertheless. Not all clever music is psychedelic, of course, but all psychedelic music must be clever.

The Beatles – my first musical loves – managed to have way with a good tune and be clever at the same time, which is why they’ve remained a constant presence in my life and I am, of course, particularly fond of their psychedelic period which began with Rain in 1966 and finished at some point during the making of The White Album some two years later (although Abbey Road has some lovely embellishments). Can anything be cleverer or prettier than A Day In The Life, say, or Strawberry Fields? In fact, that whole period is awash with gorgeous, pretty songs – The Stones’, She’s A Rainbow, Pink Floyd’s See Emily Play, The Byrds’ Change Is Now, The Beach Boys’ Good Vibrations – these are my touchstones, my reference points, for judging whether I like new music or not – is it as pretty as Penny Lane? Is it as clever as Tomorrow Never Knows? As far out as I Am The Walrus? – all of which brings us nicely to Nathan Hall, the only person who has ever asked me to write about his music.

We have history, Nathan and I, although I doubt he knows it. His debut album with The Soft Hearted Scientists, Uncanny Tales From The Everyday Undergrowth, released back in 2005 (it’s really a collection of the band’s first three EP’s) remains one of my favourite albums of all time (up there with Love’s Forever Changes in my unsolicited opinion) but I couldn’t tell you why – only that the songs are irresistibly pretty and clever and undeniably psychedelic. Since that release he has been one of the few artists from whom I will buy anything that they choose to release. Having released some five or six further albums since their debut (what with the occasional collection of demos and the odd compilation album) that estimable band seems to be on some kind of hiatus but Nathan Hall, not one to let the grass grow beneath his feet, has been emitting albums as Nathan Hall and The Sinister Locals ever since, and, with the release of Pointing Paw a few weeks ago, we have arrived at his fifth release under this moniker. I understand that it was due to be released last year but the UK’s Covid lockdown prevented SHS bassist from travelling to Cardiff to record with him (I think he may be the sinister local). Having been released from those hopefully temporary constrictions the album finally sees the light of the day, allowing Nathan to manumit his singular psych-tinged vision upon the world.

The first thing I ought to say, given my somewhat lengthy preamble, is that the album is packed with pretty, clever psych-pop tunes and ticks all the right boxes with regards to the milkman being able to give them a good whistle. Whilst not overtly psychedelic the songs are funny, playful and whimsical, and, whilst I’m loath to use Syd Barrett as a reference point, these songs clearly exist in the same universe as Syd’s Love You and It’s No Good Trying, had Barrett been able to add Hall’s love for vintage keyboards, synths, effects, electronics, drones and percussion to the mix. He also has a very Beatle-esque way with a tune, although one that leans more towards McCartney’s melodicism than Lennon’s acerbic rawness. In fact, the songs have the same sense of delicate refinement as that of a chamber orchestra – these songs do not wig-out, but rather exist in their own self-contained worlds, eschewing traditional song structure, but propelled along with a melodic playfulness that seeks, as Hall himself notes on his Bandcamp page, the same confusion of the senses that a prime Beach Boys track does. Lyrically, the songs explore tales of Covid claustrophobia, the dangers of tacky commercialism, disastrous job interviews, melodramatic hangovers at the beginning of the working week, revenge fantasies, spooky stone circles, what the moon might think about the horrible things the human race gets up to beneath her benign gaze, and, on the gnomic Hornet’s Nest, a list of stupid things to not do; musically they take in Brian Wilson-inspired hymnals (Love Long Gone),  Morricone-esque spaghetti Western vibes (Catholic College), prog-pop time changes (God’s Magistrate), baroque orchestral flourishes and hypnotic mantras (Wooden Eyelids), with nods to The Monkees (Insurrection – Malice in the Palace) and Loaded-era Velvet Underground (Hornet’s Nest – my favourite track on the album). The overall sound, though, is one of charmed pastoral restraint which is both gently psychedelic and bucolic. I make no claims to synaesthesia, but I tend to see music in colour – if I had to pick a colour to describe Pointing Paw, I would tell you that it bathes in the colour of light through a stained-glass window, or the dissolute colours of a peacock’s feathers. Nathan Hall and The Sinister Locals have released enough albums now that I’m able to start picking favourites, and Pointing Paw is certainly the best thing they’ve done since their debut release Effigies, back in 2017 - which isn’t to say I haven’t enjoyed listening to the others enormously, but these are fully-realised, warm-hearted affairs full of ravishing wordplay, psych-pop melodies and spooky electronic sound effects. Hugely enjoyable.

Available to download, stream or buy from Bandcamp here.