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Pat Orchard : Southern Skies (1999) (L.Woolfe review ; not suitable for my interests)
'Southern Skies' is the 3rd release from British singer-songwriter / guitarist Pat Orchard. The ingredients that make 'Clearwater Days' such an enjoyable listen, the superb acoustic guitar playing, the quietly observed lyric writing and the breathy melodic vocal delivery, are all in evidence. This time around the songs are mainly love vignettes with an intense well observed personal quality that inhabits territories of the heart, without resorting to sentimentalities or reportage of a voyeuristic or sensationalist nature which is the seeming stock in track of too many singer-songwriters at this time.
In addition to the nine songs on the CD there are three instrumental tracks, two of which "Jacob" and "Folly's" are short evocative guitar pieces. The other instrumentated "Wasa Dawn" is a short link between "Colours in a lovers eyes" ( a tale of Spanish girl meets English boy) and the title track. 'Southern Skies' is a timeless story of young love, skinny dipping, showing something that "this heart can't forget". Musically these tracks join seamlessly. "Follys Gate" sets the mood for and runs in to "Scarecrow Heart", a wonderful song, musically and lyrically. "Life Size" is a moody, late night melancholy song reflecting on feeling the blues whilst "Sunflower" is a metaphor for fading aspirations, beauty, love and life. Another particular favourite of mine is "Souvenir". Just voice, guitar and e-bow on a song that captures disillusionment in the "rhymes and the reasons" for love songs, expression, collecting personal experiences that slowly recede into far comers of memory. It may be the songwriter knows that ultimately endeavour, addressed to someone who will never hear for less appreciate it, is only a transitory moment or feeling.
Pat Orchard is a unique honest voice, in a world that accepts corruption of spirit and affection ? in place of substance, as its main diet. A quite beautiful CD that deserves the attention of intelligent and sensitive souls everywhere.
Lawrence Woolfe