If 2012’s stunning ‘Standing At The Sky’s Edge’ represented something of a stylistic bolt into leftfield for Richard Hawley, then ‘Hollow Meadows’, at least on the surface, appears to be a natural retreat to more familiar territory. Nowhere is this more obvious than in the return to adopting aspects of Sheffield geography for the album’s title. After periods of medically necessary stasis, brought about by a broken leg and then a slipped disc, Hawley has crafted a dreamily spacious set of songs that feel almost instantly familiar. While the experimentation may be curtailed, he plays to his strengths.
Fourteen years on from 2001’s ‘Late Night Final’ there are, nevertheless, parallels to be drawn between the glistening mid-paced majesty of tracks like ‘Long Time Down’ and ‘I Still Want You’ and that earlier record’s magnificent, if sporadic, highs ‘Baby You’re My Light’ and ‘The Nights Are Cold’. The constant factor is a sense of demure humility that seems to radiate from Hawley’s never more natural delivery. He sounds utterly at ease in a way that is notably removed from the recent grief that fired parts of his last record.
Although the first single ‘Heart Of Oak’ possesses an ardent riff and buoyant vocal out of step with much of the rest of the record, its lyrics conform to the philosophical optimism that defines ‘Hollow Meadows’, proclaiming “I’ll always be beside my heart of oak.” ‘Which Way’ is the only other rocker to be found and it offers a neat halfway house between the fuzzed up layers of ‘Standing At The Sky’s Edge’ and this album’s chiming and unashamed beauty.
Those songs which push more familiar buttons of old do so in delightfully honeyed fashion, starry-eyed ballad ‘Serenade Of Blue’ chief amongst them. Hawley’s vocal sits front and centre as acoustic strums and reverb-soaked electric notes flesh out a luscious backdrop. It’s hardly a new trick, but when you do something this well it would be churlish to not return to it from time to time. ‘Nothing Like A Friend’, with Jarvis Cocker guesting on bass, is another of the rapid acting earworms on offer.
‘Sometimes I Feel’ is the highlight here, bedecked with platitudinous statements serving as a reminder to audience and artist alike that we ignore the obvious signs in life at our peril. The endearingly heartfelt bridge of “all these things I know to be true and each one brings me closer to you” applies an extra layer of shimmering simplicity that offers an effective antidote to the incessant stresses of our ‘always-on’ twenty-first century lives.
The penchant for the past that may have hindered his appeal earlier in his career remains and ‘Hollow Meadows’ will be unlikely to recruit many new fans, despite offering plenty to delight the faithful. Despite occupying familiar territory, his remarkable voice – openly weathered at points here – has never sounded better than on this fine set of songs. A comforting return rather than anything revolutionary, it is nevertheless a welcome addition to his formidable catalogue.
7/10
Words: Gareth James
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