Our Man In The Field demands an audience, with this vibrant second slice of country life from London.

Release Date: 24th November 2023

Label: In The Field Recordings

Format: CD / vinyl / digital

Our Man In The Field is one of those names often seen propping up the smaller print in festival line-ups. Or at least that is where I think I know the name, it thus proving a delight to hear actually quite how he sounds, and to acknowledge how much further up those bills he deserves to be. An itinerant by nature, OMITF, or Alex Ellis, as he was named first, relocated to London about a decade ago, a career as a jobbing actor having failed to ignite, and his health rocked by the almost by mistake discovery of a tumour, during an appendicectomy. Given the same tumour had killed his father at 50, that became one of those sobering moments that can change a life, the new lease provided by surgery meaning a reboot and reinvention. Always dabbling with singing and song-writing, his debut, Company Of Strangers, dropped three years ago, on the back of Radio 6 support from Tom Robinson. With this now his prime focus, fast forward, this is his second album.

Feel Good kicks off with one of those shuffle beats so beloved of Chris Rea, peals of steel ringing around his smoky tenor. Already catchy, the backing singers take that further still, a gradual swell of brass adding a definite extra layer of, sorry, feel good. By the time the trumpets add the full mariachi, you’re hooked. A tremendous opener, it makes listening on irresistible. Not bad for a song about being ripped off for 10k by your agent! Come Back To Me is a slighter effort, a gossamer finger picked song, the voice a delicate flicker, again emboldened with the addition of the occasional bvs. The structure and texture, if not the vocal, is reminiscent of Ralph McTell. An affecting slow-burn, it is glorious, the steel gilding the evanescent shine.

L’Etranger could be his calling card, a treatise on being, always, the stranger in stranger lands. Another strong song, with a pitter patter of precussion and a fretless bass, his voice keens, the near cracks and near breaks all integral to the atmospheric whole. The Dean Owens/Calexico project might be another reference point, which is praise indeed. Silver Linings is clipped guitar country soul, the lyric taking further some of the musings of the song before it: “keep all of your silver linings, they don’t work on me, you can keep your holy water, does nothing for me“. Great White Hope takes him to the keyboard, a sombre piano ballad, now channeling a David Gray sensibility. Synth strings, organ and steel bathe the chorus, so the time to introduce the band: it is Henry Senior on steel, Raul Biancardi on synths, Luke Ydstie on bass and Greg Bishop on drums and harmonies. Ellis picks up all the additional guitars and keyboards. All but Ydstie are London based, the bassist hailing from Portland, OR, where the album was made, with local man, Tucker Martine, at the production desk. Martine has a fascinating c.v., helming records by Roseanne Cash, the Decemberists and Beth Orton, amongst others.

Go Easy ups the lavish fauxchorstration, and is an agreeable lurch, anchored by more of the fretless, or is it stand up, bass. A nice bit of twangy guitar adds some ballast to the mid section, very much a lighter in the air, end of show number. And if I say very Radio 2 friendly, well, that shouldn’t be a put down. Glad To See You is then a breezy low-key saunter, the next speed up from a lurch. So drenched in a hazy hayseed Americana is this record, I feel duty bound to check deeper out his credentials, assuming his journey to London started in somewhere dusty in the US midwest, the discovery that it was from the North East over here a little astonishing, his coals definitely transported from Newcastle(ish) to wherever the roots of his music sprouted. The brassy coda, with, possibly, synth tuba, is a tad corny, but has always proven good enough for legion singer-songwriters a head of him. Is that fiddles that beckon in Last Dance? A sprightly melody, this could be early Van or Paul Brady. Heard blind, it could also point in the direction of flow taken by Ross Wilson/Blue Rose code. Wheezy harmonica offers a killer stroke.

By now it is clear this is confident and competent songwriting and musicianship. How Long is then a weary and wearied, slow shuffle lament. “I’d walk a thousand miles in any man’s shoes, if they walked me back to you,” is rather a good line, by any standards, the oo ooo oos a surprising turn as it develops, with no sign of filler yet to appear on this intriguing platter. Some banjo closes the song exquisitely. The brief Road Interlude acts as palate cleanser, captured speech filtered into a short instrumental, resplendent with bowed bass. Palate cleanser for what, you ask? Long Forgotten is one of those rich and elegiac slow songs, framed by stel and piano, solemn and haunting, Ellis and Bishop an eerie vocal combination, Bishop almost an echo. A thought-provoking song, it is, in turns, dreamy and focussed, like a mirage shifting in and out of view. It makes for a cracking finale to a cracking album. Recommended!

Here’s Feel Good. It works!

Our Man In The Field online: Official Website / Facebook / X (formerly Twitter) / Instagram

Keep up with At The Barrier: Facebook / X (formerly Twitter) / Instagram / Spotify / YouTube