New Zealander Delaney Davidson is like a lot of musicians who saturate themselves in the blues, country and modern rock.
Unlike the majority, he still gets it. The music is as vital for him now as when he picked up a guitar. He’s never still, always moving to improve and expand his range. Why? Because he doesn’t want the songs to sound the same.
I must apologise - this has been sitting along with a couple of other CDs, waiting their turn as I try to complete a documentary about a rather brill Australian rock band and another book. I’ve been a tad busy elsewhere too. So the review may be a little old.
Should you chase a copy?
Hell yes. Davidson simply swaggers through these dozen "Ghost Songs", an assurance and beguiling spiky intelligence moving through both the music and his lyrics. There’s not an ounce of wasted fat here, everything has its place. I’ve put this on in the bookshop and stopped people in their tracks. People think it’s the soundtrack to a Lynch film they never saw.
Lynch ain’t that talented. "Ghost Songs" is a classic album and you require it as a matter of course. And all his others. Check out this sample:
Alright, if you absolutely must have comparisons to an unfamiliar name - try Mick Harvey or Rowland S. Howard, Jeffrey Lee Pierce, Hugo Race, Tom Waits - all at their absolute sparkling, splintery best. No, not Nick Cave; although I know some will make that comparison, it’s not valid.
These are songs about you, me and everyone else you ever knew. If "Ghost Songs" is any indication, Davidson must be profoundly swinging, laconically savage in the flesh.
Where do you get him? Try Bandcamp or his French label, Casbah Records.
And - he’s got a new LP out, "Swim Down Low."
