steve robinson. away for the day. review by alan haber. buhdge

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Away for the Day Steve Robinson Sunshine Drenchy (2004) They always want to come here, and we always want to go there. It must be the bagels. Or the less complicated currency structure. How else to explain why British musicians always want to live in America, and American musicians always want to live in Britain? It's a curious thing, that, but it's an arrangement that seems to have worked, kind of an exchange program for guitar players (except they don't have to live in somebody's house for six months and take out the garbage). Steve Robinson's an expatriate; the native Northern Englander has lived and made music on these shores for 20 years, currently in St. Petersburg, Florida, the sister city of Takamatsu, Japan, and the twin city of St. Petersburg, Russia, according to the online home of the Sunshine City. That's three times I've mentioned the word city in a single sentence, which would be enough city for anyone, but for Robinson, whose talent is massive, it's almost enough to keep things on an even keel. For about a dozen years In the 1980s and 1990s, Robinson was a member of the folk-rock group the Headlights; he's migrated his folk predilections to the songs that comprise this extraordinary album, but this is not a folk record per se; this is a pop record with folk flourishes, and it sits happily at the head of its class. Recorded simply at home with a single microphone for his black, acoustic guitar and vocals, Robinson ported the remaining instruments into a KORG D1600 with a guitar cord. With that, he set about committing his songs to silver disc. And what a disc it is. Sounding something like a cross between Mark Johnson and the poppier side of John Wesley Harding, Robinson weaves stories and situations with a craftsman's touch; personal and relatable, they resonate with the listener because, in some way, you and I have lived these tales, too. "How the Mighty Have Fallen" is one such tale: the story of a young, adrift musician who finds a home in America but quickly realizes that common sense can be fleeting, especially for the youth of the world. "I was just 21/And I knew everything/And I turned 30 and forgot it all," he laments. It's a song about finding one's way in the world, and keeping one's wits in check, and it's tremendously affecting. The intoxicating pop melody and a chorus exuding exquisite charm are redolent of the rest of the album, as is Robinson's honest, melodic vocal style. His leads, harmony, and background vocals are as fine as fine can be. Robinson knows how to tell a story, how to hook the listener with his words. "The Bright Side of the Moon," the story of a guy who rode his "bike straight off the rails/Into the drink," yet knows that a kiss will save the day, is a stunner. Uptempo and deliberate, the melody is first class. "The Golden Age of Steam," performed simply with acoustic guitars, harmonica and beautiful background harmonies, is a contemporary take on the kind of song that folk artists used to write and perform--a story that pits emotions against each other as a man talks about another who many years ago tread the long road to a girl he wanted to marry, an honest man with dignity and pride. He was a man who believed that when you took a job, you kept it, you did it and you didn't leave. The narrator sings about still believing in England, despite not living there; he believes, as did the other man, "in the golden age of steam"...the old values that still are the best. A heartfelt story, sung with deep emotion, it's quite a stunner, really. The title song is a poppy handclapper, with a great, hooky melody and chorus, all about day trippers who leave their problems behind to get "away for the day." The light mood and clever lyrics chronicle people "spilling hot tea in a pony and trap/With a Union Jack and a 'kiss me quick' hat," and the Empire, which also seems to be "slipping away." The Empire, Robinson sings, is also "getting away for the day." A lazy rock and roll number, "Lucky 7," pays a well-traveled debt to Robinson's musical heroes, who are name checked in this song about a Lucky 7 guitar "with a sparkle on/Just like Marc did in '71." Robinson remembers back: "Did the one inch rock/Blame it on T. Rex/Blame it on Slade/Blame it on the 45s the Shadows made..." When the guitar goes missing, Robinson wonders if it sparkles "in guitar heaven" and asks for help if he ever gets the Lucky 7 back. I'll let you discover the rest of the story, but know that this is one incredible song. The pleasures to be had listening to this record are seemingly endless. Among them is the ballad "England's Green," sung by what appears to be simultaneous narrators: Robinson's daughter and the Empire herself. The words and emotions sing: "How can you leave England's green/And promise yourself to another/One day you'll return/One day you'll learn that you just deserted your mother." It's another stunner from Robinson. The nearly-six minute closer, "Goose Flesh," is definitely a case of saving the best for last. This melodic love letter to Neil and Tim Finn, the Everly Brothers and, most assuredly, the Beach Boys, really sings: "Full sail in sympathy/Brothers in harmony/Put me back together (no matter what the weather." The lovely background vocals, combined with the triple homage, feed into a wave of Wilson brothers-inspired harmonic wonder, and then the album is done, but the memories linger on. Robinson's publishing company is called Across the Water Music. It's an especially apt name that describes the link between the artist's native and adopted homes. If there is anything that connects England and America, it's music, and this purely wonderful album, a testament to the truth of craft and a singer/songwriter's ability to convey it to the hearts of listeners, no matter where they live, is proof. Alan Haber May 15, 2005
alan haber's pure pop buhdgeblog hot buhdge \| pop buhdge \| buhdge remembers television buhdge \| film buhdge \| books buhdge video buhdge \| buhdge fine print \| links about buhdge \| write for buhdge \| contact home (c) 2004 Alan Haber

Away for the Day
Steve Robinson
Sunshine Drenchy (2004)

steve robinson's away for the day They always want to come here, and we always want to go there. It must be the bagels. Or the less complicated currency structure. How else to explain why British musicians always want to live in America, and American musicians always want to live in Britain? It's a curious thing, that, but it's an arrangement that seems to have worked, kind of an exchange program for guitar players (except they don't have to live in somebody's house for six months and take out the garbage).

Steve Robinson's an expatriate; the native Northern Englander has lived and made music on these shores for 20 years, currently in St. Petersburg, Florida, the sister city of Takamatsu, Japan, and the twin city of St. Petersburg, Russia, according to the online home of the Sunshine City. That's three times I've mentioned the word city in a single sentence, which would be enough city for anyone, but for Robinson, whose talent is massive, it's almost enough to keep things on an even keel.

For about a dozen years In the 1980s and 1990s, Robinson was a member of the folk-rock group the Headlights; he's migrated his folk predilections to the songs that comprise this extraordinary album, but this is not a folk record per se; this is a pop record with folk flourishes, and it sits happily at the head of its class.

Recorded simply at home with a single microphone for his black, acoustic guitar and vocals, Robinson ported the remaining instruments into a KORG D1600 with a guitar cord. With that, he set about committing his songs to silver disc. And what a disc it is.

Sounding something like a cross between Mark Johnson and the poppier side of John Wesley Harding, Robinson weaves stories and situations with a craftsman's touch; personal and relatable, they resonate with the listener because, in some way, you and I have lived these tales, too.

"How the Mighty Have Fallen" is one such tale: the story of a young, adrift musician who finds a home in America but quickly realizes that common sense can be fleeting, especially for the youth of the world. "I was just 21/And I knew everything/And I turned 30 and forgot it all," he laments. It's a song about finding one's way in the world, and keeping one's wits in check, and it's tremendously affecting. The intoxicating pop melody and a chorus exuding exquisite charm are redolent of the rest of the album, as is Robinson's honest, melodic vocal style. His leads, harmony, and background vocals are as fine as fine can be.

Robinson knows how to tell a story, how to hook the listener with his words. "The Bright Side of the Moon," the story of a guy who rode his "bike straight off the rails/Into the drink," yet knows that a kiss will save the day, is a stunner. Uptempo and deliberate, the melody is first class.

"The Golden Age of Steam," performed simply with acoustic guitars, harmonica and beautiful background harmonies, is a contemporary take on the kind of song that folk artists used to write and perform--a story that pits emotions against each other as a man talks about another who many years ago tread the long road to a girl he wanted to marry, an honest man with dignity and pride. He was a man who believed that when you took a job, you kept it, you did it and you didn't leave. The narrator sings about still believing in England, despite not living there; he believes, as did the other man, "in the golden age of steam"...the old values that still are the best. A heartfelt story, sung with deep emotion, it's quite a stunner, really.

The title song is a poppy handclapper, with a great, hooky melody and chorus, all about day trippers who leave their problems behind to get "away for the day." The light mood and clever lyrics chronicle people "spilling hot tea in a pony and trap/With a Union Jack and a 'kiss me quick' hat," and the Empire, which also seems to be "slipping away." The Empire, Robinson sings, is also "getting away for the day."

A lazy rock and roll number, "Lucky 7," pays a well-traveled debt to Robinson's musical heroes, who are name checked in this song about a Lucky 7 guitar "with a sparkle on/Just like Marc did in '71." Robinson remembers back: "Did the one inch rock/Blame it on T. Rex/Blame it on Slade/Blame it on the 45s the Shadows made..." When the guitar goes missing, Robinson wonders if it sparkles "in guitar heaven" and asks for help if he ever gets the Lucky 7 back. I'll let you discover the rest of the story, but know that this is one incredible song.

The pleasures to be had listening to this record are seemingly endless. Among them is the ballad "England's Green," sung by what appears to be simultaneous narrators: Robinson's daughter and the Empire herself. The words and emotions sing: "How can you leave England's green/And promise yourself to another/One day you'll return/One day you'll learn that you just deserted your mother." It's another stunner from Robinson.

The nearly-six minute closer, "Goose Flesh," is definitely a case of saving the best for last. This melodic love letter to Neil and Tim Finn, the Everly Brothers and, most assuredly, the Beach Boys, really sings: "Full sail in sympathy/Brothers in harmony/Put me back together (no matter what the weather." The lovely background vocals, combined with the triple homage, feed into a wave of Wilson brothers-inspired harmonic wonder, and then the album is done, but the memories linger on.

Robinson's publishing company is called Across the Water Music. It's an especially apt name that describes the link between the artist's native and adopted homes. If there is anything that connects England and America, it's music, and this purely wonderful album, a testament to the truth of craft and a singer/songwriter's ability to convey it to the hearts of listeners, no matter where they live, is proof.

Alan Haber
May 15, 2005