As lead singer of Mojave 3, Neil Halstead has been making American roots
music, interpreted as only a group of Brits could. The slowish, dream-like
quality of their three albums together have been, at times, both beautiful
and sad. In his solo debut, Sleeping on Roads, Halstead goes further
into the roots of this music, the result of which is a kind of alt-folk gem.
A cursory listen brings to mind '70s AM radio, from James Taylor to Neil
Young to (yipes!) Toto. The easy way out is to compare Halstead's voice to
that of Nick Drake, but it's not that easy. Compared to his Mojave 3 output,
this is sparser yet more classically melodic. Several listens in, it becomes
apparent that the deceptive simplicity of the lyrics and melodies belie
intricacy and depth.
Like many singer-songwriters, many of Neil Halstead's songs on
Sleeping on Roads deal with failed relationships, each more delicate
and melancholy than the last. He is a wordsmith with the lyricism of Bob
Dylan and Elliott Smith. "Before we were old memories / And I guessed that
we'd be fine / Shooting stars still break her heart / And sunsets make her
cry" he sings in "Two Stones in My Pocket", with a piercing lamentation in
his voice. Whether trying to heal himself or some else, he seems to find a
way to cut through to the heart of the matter. There are few songwriters
with the ability to keep it as simple yet biting as this. "One day it just
snowed I guess / And they closed the roads into your heart / You came home
like a dead star / No light left / No loving anymore" (from "Hi-Lo and
Inbetween") is chilling and true.
The instrumentation on Sleeping on Roads is a mix of folk music
essentials, such as acoustic and electric guitars, piano and drums (played
by Halstead's Mojave 3 bandmate Ian McCutcheon). But there is also an
eclectic mix of non-traditional instruments such as cello, glockenspiel,
vibes and trumpet put to use in varying ways to give the entire album its
southwestern feel. The song that most benefits from these (and uses the
trumpet in its most effective way) is "Driving with Bert", a kind of tribute
to legendary Scottish folk artist Bert Jansch. Like the title suggests, it
does sound like a driving song, but with elements of a Sergio Leone
spaghetti western theme that would make Ennio Morricone proud. A lush mix of
instruments over an understated vocal, this is one of the most upbeat (at
least in meter) songs on the record.
The second to last song on the album, "Dreamed I Saw Soldiers", has the
writer at the top of his craft, both musically and lyrically. Melodically,
it is beautiful in its sparseness, with mainly guitar and organ over a
simple driving drum pattern. Heartbreaking in its build up, it crescendos
with the line "What has become of our love / Of our love?". This is as good
a phrase as any other to represent Sleeping on Roads' underlying
sentiment. Neil Halstead's solo debut is not something that reveals itself
immediately, but eventually opens up enough for you to curl up inside and
feel his pain. This is the stuff of classic sad-bastard pop music, but the
arrangements elevate this to a different, more interesting level. The record
is more comforting and universal than his work with Mojave 3, while sitting
comfortably with that group's best output. Perhaps Halstead will find a
comfortable existence sharing his time between the two, but he has proven
that he can successfully go it alone.
— 5 June 2002
