Richard Ashcroft
A Song For The Lovers(Hut)
As one of the most overpraised and self-important Britrock icons of the last decade, Dickie's solo debut should have been a steaming turd on a silver platter, at which point hate-choked cynics like me would have thrown up our arms in told-you-so triumph. But this is actually, pretty good, the sneaky bastard. Damn. An orchestral flourish, a fiery flamenco strum, and suddenly Rich is howling sangria-fuelled sweet nothings at the starry
Spanish sky. Imagine Bernard Butler joining the Gipsy Kings, but slightly drunker.
On '(Could Be) A Country Thing, City Thing, Blues Thing' Ashcroft's voice is rich and full of wonder as slide guitars melt around him, though admittedly the disjointed cosmic warble of 'Precious Stone' is generic pre-fame Verve at their most blurred and blustery. Still, the lad's back to reclaim his throne as passion-fired campfire minstrel of the year. Can you hear the drums, Fernando?
Stephen Dalton
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