Some bands just fall through the cracks.
Our favourite industry isn’t fair, nor does it make any promises. Countless acts of considerable pedigree, even with successful back catalogues under other names, often fail to make an impact: The Shining were a supergroup formed in the early part of the century, consisting of ex-members of The Verve and briefly John Squire, but did little damage. John Frusciante can’t get himself arrested outside of Red Hot Chili Peppers but is considered a vital cog in their wheel, hence his hokey-cokey relationship with the band (at time of writing, he’s a full-time member again).
Hightown Pirates have a similar problem. The credits on this second long player include musicians who have been in Babyshambles, Gorillaz and Shack. The mastermind behind the band, Simon Mason, exists in Britpop folklore, but also has a lauded debut album from 2017 under his name. And yet, Mason often, understandably, vents frustrations that his band are never asked to appear at festivals or even tour, and get virtually no recognition in the media. Yet it doesn’t deter him – demonstrable evidence that it’s a labour of love, not just a career.
On listening to All Of The Above, the lack of acknowledgment for Hightown Pirates is both a mystery and a shame, as there is much to admire here. The musicianship is exceptional: melodic yet noisy guitars, flexible bass-lines, soulful backing vocals, all cushioned by a persistent backdrop of northern soul brass. The ingredients may sound familiar, and Mason freely admits that it’s not notable for its originality, but this doesn’t detract from the talent.
The main touchstone is Paul Weller, not least because of Mason’s unerringly similar voice. He Who Lies Flat is all life-affirming chords following a lengthy instrumental opening, the brass section front and centre. The deft touch of single Girl From The Library sounds like an off-cut from Stanley Road, while on the acoustic Different Drums he even cribs from The Jam’s English Rose as a nice tribute. Once again, Mason isn’t so blind to not see where the comparisons are, so acknowledges them head on.
Lyrically, Mason often rails against the usual (but deserved) suspects; those that took the 2016 referendum as a mandate to do whatever they wanted (‘the Island Monkeys screaming so excited, as the kingdom falls on its sword that’s what we decided’). Otherwise he mainly acts as storyteller: lead single Girl In The Library is a metaphor for encountering several of life’s characters as they pass through, while A Sunday Sermon is a wistful and sad tale of a ‘leading lady’ and a soldier as they too look at life’s roller coaster.
Simon Mason’s stance is that Hightown Pirates offer hope and salvation through music, and he speaks from experience. In these desperate times such reminders are most welcome.
