Monday, June 11, 2018

Conor Gains – Compass




Conor Gains – Compass


A good record is a lot like a good movie. There are characters, an essential narrative, and enough depth in both to take the audience from the edge of their seats and place them right in the middle of the current scene. And from the depths of his soul, songwriter Conor Gains masterfully directs the story of his debut album, Compass, in a performance that would be worthy of an Academy Award in the film industry.

Our story begins as we shadow a set of footsteps on the track “I Know.” A rhythmic snapping starts. Is this some Philly soul revving up the engine? The band is tuning up, and the anticipation is getting ridiculous. Out of the foggy night; enter Conor’s voice. He’s searching, yearning for something different. To find the treasures where there has only been trash. The urban landscape in springtime, the feel good energy that comes with a new season, it’s all around us. Our intuition, like some sort of deity, is guiding us forward to where we need to be. It’s a fresh start.

The amplifiers start to warm up a little bit, and we step into a swanky blues club in “Walking Alone.” Tides of bittersweet melancholy start to wash us out to sea. In the isolation we find a place to think. The heavens open up and let us know we’re not alone. The irony is how alone we had to get just to discover this. Gains picks up the beat in “Dance Like It’s Your Birthday,” and suddenly it’s like we’re sitting piano-side to Stevie Wonder during the prime of his electrifying career. Horns get peppered in, and it’s starting to feel like a sunny summer day on Bourbon Street.

“Ordinary Love” takes us sailing away from the Crescent City and into a sultry love scene. Giving someone everything, receiving so much ecstasy in return. No matter the pain you’ve got to go through to get this feeling, it’s worth it every time, as Gains so intelligibly relates to us. We start to descend into the macrocosm of questions that this love poses in us in “I’ve Been Looking for Your Heart;” what will it take for us to get that happy ending we always have chased after. How will we conquer love together when we’re so completely different? The band omits a brooding moan that is shattered by guitar feedback and an explosive climax. In the traces of notation left, “In My Head” takes us deep within our singer’s psyche, and the twists and turns created by the thousands of synchronized sounds. Just when we’re in the grip of insanity, “Back to You” arrives to rescue us and bring us back to the forgiving land that we started our quest from. “Miracle” cranks up the heat on the amps once more to see just how much paint we’ve got left on the walls, stepping swiftly into your consciousness and leaving the debris of burnt and bashed guitars in its wake. “Darkness in the Light” and its spiritual sequel song “Mexico” draw the curtains closed on the record through a vivid black and white lens that stylishly slips back into the night like a character from a classic noir picture.

If Compass has but one flaw, it is that after its ten song collection comes to a fitting end, it leaves me desperate for much, much more output from its enigmatic leading man.


Gary Williams