DUSK (vinyl)

Description

'DUSK' is a bridge between two pillars worthy of veneration - a New York piano bar still damp with the deep voice of Louis Armstrong and the Bugsy Malone feeling, shot through with the rock scene of the 70s/80s, Iggy Pop, Tom Waits... Then the other pillar - more structured/traditional, Dylan and Springsteen but also McCartney, Van Morrison, Alan Price... more simply, the Celtic soul, both warm and cool. The quivering tension and mature power of 'DUSK' leave us suspended over our own emotional bridges; Paddy’s writing and the stripped-down production create a voice, and a path, between us and... ourselves. Paddy Sherlock landed in Paris in the musical world of the night, trombone in hand and original songs in his mouth. A member of the groups FFF, P18, The Swinging Lovers, Paddy commands the stage with a natural Sinatra-like ease; as a leader of the neo-swing movement, he has shared the stage with countless legends (David Gilmour, John Lord, Ian Paice, Woody Allen band, James Brown band, Martha Reeves, Glen Hansard, Mary Black...) demonstrating over the years a great mastery of improvisation and the art of performance. But there is an extra dimension to Sherlock. Raw and dark, hopelessly melodic, authentic and almost intimate. Almost. At last comes 'DUSK', the album that reveals a gentle icon of the art of generous and emotional songwriting, the album that is Paddy in his very essence, vulnerable, and transcended by the stripped-down and striking arrangements of his peers: Sal Bernardi (Ricky Lee Jones), Steven Forward (Ray Charles, Mc Cartney), and Jeff Hallam (Dominique A, Hindi Zahra). PRODUCED BY BRISA ROCHÉ, recorded-mixed by Jeff Hallam, 'DUSK' makes those who have met Paddy aware of their luck, and stirs regrets in the others. The quivering tension and mature power of DUSK leave us suspended over our own emotional bridges; Paddy’s writing and the stripped-down production create a voice, and a path, between us and... ourselves. And we will listen to it, again and again, and we will be surprised, again and always. "CLASSY CROONER FOLK." "---TÉLÉRAMA ---." RAW DIAMOND "--- ROLLING STONE ---." An album that shows real character in its artistic expression ... "--- ROLLING STONE ---." INTIMATE JOURNEY FROM TOM WAITS TO VAN MORRISON, A VERY NICE CRUISE. " --- ROCK & FOLK ---." An Irishman in Paris, a swaying piano. The Irishman, French by adoption, Paddy Sherlock. With such a surname, it is no surprise that Paddy Sherlock was born in Dublin. This timeless man set down his bags in Paris last century. He felt at home there. Rather than sliding his trombone along Grafton Street, he hauled it around the jazz clubs of our city. He has lent his services to FFF or, formed his own group, The Liz McComb Swinging Lovers. He has put his feet on more than one piano, loosening his tie and claiming, with a lingering Beckett-like stiff dignity, that it was the piano that had been drinking, not him. The quote is from, and it is Tom Waits at the most heavenly of showbiz tramps that one naturally thinks of when opening 'Dusk' (2), the said Sherlock’s first serious (?) release. "Like a Diamond" smells of the smoky piano bar as there used to be when bars were open and smoking was allowed inside. The voice rubbed with malt, hops, and brown tobacco dispenses the advice of an old pirate (" burn all your bridges, burn all your friends... ") and gets backing from a gospel choir. Five tracks later, the same ones, turned into she-devils, chant " let's get down, let's get down... ", urging you to join them at the bottom of the bottle. In between, Paddy has proved to us that he had passed through New Orleans, at least in spirit - "In Heaven's Name", with its hard-bitten fatalism (" day by day, all our tomorrows turn to yesterdays... "). And that he must have had some affinities with Leon Redbone Mose Allison Bobby , or further on and Troup. Make no mistake, we are in the minor key here, even the anecdotal. Sherlock is not immune to a banal boogie, an ordinary blues. But how could one not raise a glass with a guy who lets the bells ring behind one last ballad for the road, murmured hoarsely to the lampshade, making us believe that its pale glow is that of a setting sun ("When the Sun Goes Down")..." --- François Gorin, TÉLÉRAMA ---.