Tim Allen – The Last Bastion Of A Lad
(Independent)
Reviewed by Tim Gruar.
Originally from Lancashire, now based in Auckland, moonlighting carpenter Tim Allen (not the ‘Tool Man’) is a diamond in the rough. He loves a bit of irony, shown in the title of his sophomore album ‘Last Bastion Of A Lad’ – just released last week. Given our recent #MeToo environment you would have thought it was best to to avoid any reference to the despicable ‘lad culture’ of the late 1990’s and early 2000’s… but Allen can’t ignore his Brit pop roots or his earlier misdemeanours, made in the name of the cause.
His music reminds us of Oasis, Blur, David Gray and other troubadours of that period. I’m told from the liner notes that ‘it’s an album title that notes an easing up on the wild life, putting one’s larrikin ways to bed, growing up.’ And it’s a bit of a nod back to a time when it was ok to be a ‘bit of a lad’. It’s about maturing and the shedding of self-confidence, admitting we aren’t bulletproof, and a loss of youthful swagger.
This is an album that grew on me pretty quickly, being packed with evidence of life experiences – from the poignant, sweet but aching account of the loss of a lover: ‘Joan Don’t Go’ to the spikey, anxious feeling of displacement he creates on ‘Different Shore’. He bookends this, literally, with clear references to his own Northern Soul and a potential return to Blighty – should it all go end up – in the last chorus of ‘Get Out Clause’.
While the album as a whole may be quite ‘poppy’, the single ‘Won’t Let You Win’ has a real fight song attitude about it. It’s a revelation, of sorts – Allen was recently diagnosed with adult ADHD. So, this is a recalibration of his life, laid out and dressed in the staunch treatment of 60’s Brit pop. You can’t help noticing the nod to McCartney’s trademark descending basslines, which sound just like they’ve been lifted straight of one of the fab-four’s popular platters.In fact, with the ‘Doo Doo’ chorus and Allen’s slightly husky, working class accent you can almost imagine Sir Paul himself playing this one.
‘Loneliness’ is a sad acoustic number, sung at the top of his vocal range. Another story of immigration, and a revelation that even hope can be a facade: “I bought the last ticket, and found out it was fake.” Where to from here?
‘Ghost’ is my favourite, this could easily be a David Gray song. It has dark, lingering chords. We look in the mirror and we only see a dark past, one we want to forget. Is this what’s going on here? Or is it a yearning and a wanting, buried in the lyrics, never wanting to let go: ‘A vison of Love and a Grim Reaper I see’. Who or what ever this is about, it was inspired by some very deep wounds.
If ‘Loneliness’ and ‘Ghost’ get you down, then ‘One Door Closes’ will swing the pendulum back in the opposite direction. It’s an upbeat song of hope and optimism. Catchy, too.
Allen is a guitarist, usually. But the big, classy sound on this album makes it sound way more professional than just another cafe performance or home studio effort. Allen has some great mates here in Aotearoa and of course he gets them in to help out. Produced by Ben King (Goldenhorse) and engineered by both King and Nick Abbott, the album is elevated by the playing of Milan Borich (Pluto), Matthias Jordan (Pluto, Night choir), plus cameos from Dominic Blaazer, the fabulous Toni Randle from my favourite dark folkies, Eyreton Hall, and Callum Passells. Their additions uplift and support each track but their presence is still only felt in support mode – this is still Allen’s show, one hundred per cent!
He may still be useful around the house for putting up a shelf or fixing a broken door frame but I reckon once this album gets out, he may need to rethink his ‘tradie’ career and down tools for good. Music is calling, mate!
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