I’m writing this on my birthday. I wake up to the sound of my cat clawing at the curtains; my eyes catching tiny glimpses of morning light with each scratch. I decide to hide under the covers for the best part of an hour before finally accepting defeat and dragging myself out of bed. I slowly shuffle towards the bathroom, look into the mirror and see a tired, reluctant face staring back. I’ve never much liked my face – it reminds me too much of my father, and with each passing year it feels more like his than my own. My relationship with my dad is virtually non-existent – he had an affair with my best friend’s Mum when I was 13 years old. He seems to have completely given up on the idea of repairing the damage between us these days; I don’t even get a card.
I listen to Francis Lung’s ‘Back One Day’ to cheer myself up – it’s a song that manages in a few triumphant minutes to reaffirm my belief in life and love. There’s a raw honesty in Tom McLung’s lyrics, and the tender piano notes feel almost Daniel Johnston-esque in their tone. The impressively cathartic chorus breaks free with almost willful abandonment. McLung’s solo ambitions have been in the works since he was a teenager, taking a backseat during the WU LYF days, but always there… his song-writing being patiently refined and developed. Having built up a reputation for an impassioned live show, McLung seems to be able to delicately balance both the intimate and more extrovert aspects of performance. The clean white suit he wears demands the audience to look at him… but when you do, you see a performer lost in his own world… and the accompanying video to ‘Back One Day’ reflects this, with Manchester visual artist Ella Deacy keeping the focus on McLung’s anguished facial movements. At times McLung reminds me of John Lennon, his melodies are beautifully simple in their structure, or at least they seem that way; I guess that’s the trick to all great pop music.
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Phill Young
