The sheer attention to detail and craftsmanship on A Bad Wind Blows in My Heart somehow gives a sense – in keeping with the romantic paradoxes that populate the album’s lyrics – that these days this kind of unfashionably direct, heartfelt tunesmithery might just be its own kind of innovation.
It never feels like a self-absorbed, autobiographical bore, as Jones' is an enigmatic enough narrator and a gifted enough arranger that what initially seems like ephemera turns out to be surprisingly affecting.
Once you’ve accustomed yourself to the sedate pace, something haunting, stately and – in a small-scale, arthousey sort of way – cinematic gradually reveals itself.
An intimate and very British release to cherish and hold close; it also happens to be one of the year’s best so far.
His skills as an songwriter and arranger are clearly evident – each song builds with subtlety and restraint, and there’s a neat rhythmic twist halfway through Anthony & Owen that brings his former band to mind.
The solemn accounts of squandered innocence nestle wonderfully atop the layered melodies, the final production focusing on clarity and polish.
While his vocal delivery sounds as though he’s having to force each word out through cracked lips at the end of a long night, the accompanying music fits perfectly
What’s most disappointing about the album is how Ryder-Jones has almost completely abandoned taking any sonic risks.
Bordering on monotonous in its lows, its highs make it mainstream fodder for more than just sad acoustic heads.
At some points this LP is really hit or miss. It can get cheesy or outright boring. Especially as the LP goes on, the instrumentation can feel stale. Otherwise a solid record.
#8 | / | Q Magazine |
#75 | / | Rough Trade |