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masterful storyteller ups the brood ~

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OVERVIEW

Gleaming his pen and paper from the likes of Jarvis Cocker and Leonard Cohen, A Firmer Hand marks the third release from Scottish muso Hamish Hawk. A darker shadow than that of Angel Numbers last year, it encompasses both Hawk’s musical pen-portraits in classic wit and decorum in an alternative wrap-up to grace the 6Music airwaves.

At the heart of it: are chamber pop songs denoting the question of what could have been in a melty desire of self-critical queer masculinity. Hawk has said that as he moves into his 30s, he decided that it was time to write a record that his parents wouldn’t necessarily be comfortable hearing. While the albums prior may have missed their mark with a wishy-washing songwriting laxative, A Firmer Hand is a fix on both musicality and structure.

“Love is for losers / Lustings of boast. Such disdain for the natural world.”

The fragility of Hamish Hawk is not best represented in other artists around. Perhaps Baxter Dury in more ways than one. Both artists craft stories all the while exploring an ugly, more violent side, to desire with their dulcet tones seemingly soothing the audiences’ temperaments. Both quench the thirst of being a fresh artist without needing to sound entirely original in their set-up. Hamish Hawk is the harder pill to swallow here in its taste.

song-to-song

It’s the tug between lust and love; the power games of sexual conquest that makes A Firmer Hand such a tense powerful play. The opener is as graceful as any in the 12-track line-up. The melodic pulse and rich tones make for a wrought tussle between regret and preventing losing face at a losing relationship. The colloquial charms of Hawk’s poetry throw up remarkable quips like, “I’m just the open secret no-one’s ever gonna blow” every now and then. The dark, gothic follow-up of Machiavelli’s Room is a turn-up for the books, as this lust for desire ramps up a gear. Hawk has said that as he moves into his 30s, he decided that it was time to write a record that his parents wouldn’t necessarily be comfortable hearing. When in the prowess of making queer art, it certainly shouldn’t be a thought that holds you back. The harrowing piano jabs and leering synth lines make up for a powerful statement to the fragility of masculine desire, ““when he shrieks like a siren, I admire him / When he shrieks like a siren, I desire him.” The tone drops down a peg with a more one-dimensional sexy funk groove designed for a ’70s porno as Hawk admires bedroom shenanigans. It still remains poignant and right on the money, however. A notable favourite is Men Like Wire, a revamped indie-rock anthem embellished with that advantageous Joy Division soundalikes.

It’s an album cut from a different cloth entirely of Hawk’s undercoat. A keeper of compendiums, Hamish has outdone himself with a record that glows and gloats above the rest. Simply a seldom pop record, A Firmer Hand shows the thorny side to love. Love may be for losers, but it’ll always be a game worth playing.

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