For the past few years now Paul Morricone, erstwhile singer with everyone’s favourite pop combo The Scaramanga Six (well at least mine anyway), has been chiselling away with his solo career, releasing two mighty fine albums already, with 2019’s “Dissolving Man” and “Cruel Designs” from 2020, along with a clutch of gigs to boot. Always immaculately presented and packaged, this modern day Bryan Ferry has done it again and more with his new release.

Comparisons with Scott Walker have always dogged his footsteps, though who would baulk at that. It’s in the cinematic sweeps and the rich vibrato, and the John Barry-esque orchestrations, especially prevalent in the dramatic “Are We Having A Moment”, (where his voice also contains elements of Marc Almond), and it has to be said the classical guitar and strings of “Pale Shadow” do sound a lot like Scott’s version of “If You Go Away”. However, before it all falls too heavily into pastiche territory there is plenty here to keep it from merely being a tribute. Paul’s main talent, apart from his suave good looks and rich velvety voice of course, is his ability to combine the classic with the unusual. It’s been a common theme running throughout the career of the Scaramangas too, this ability to fuse classic influences with the avant-garde to create something unusual and unique.
Take the horror themed opener of “I’ve Got You In The Palm Of My Hand”, which is a stark warning about the British public’s propensity for giving away their hard fought freedoms. In amongst the strident piano and ascending bass lines there are creepy whispers and almost Penderecki style strings screaming, and a brass section and atonal sax from a Bernard Hermann noir thriller. Take also the frantic/frenetic textures of “People In My Way”, with its nervous fast paced drumming and constant falling strings, like David Bowie‘s “I’m Deranged” from the David Lynch film “Lost Highway”, and here the comparisons continue because there is also the spirit of Barry Adamson contained within, from his work with Magazine and the Bad Seeds, right through to his soundtrack and solo works, there is the similar combination between the orchestral and the avant-garde.
“Peabody” could have been taken from a 60’s film musical written by Anthony Newley and directed by Joseph Losey. I absolutely love this song. Like most of the songs on this album the production, musical arrangements and playing throughout are exceptional, notable moments are the bass playing on the above, which reminds me of someone like Jerry Scheff. The drumming on “People In My Way”, the bass playing, piano and backing vocals on “Dining Out (On That Particular Buffet)”(on which I notice the obligatory Fall reference!), the thrilling orchestra on the chorus of “I’ve Got You in the Palm of my Hand”, the atonal Beefheart saxophone on “Laughing At You”, the brilliant Rufus Wainwright style backing vocals on “Are We Having A Moment”, the beautiful and Beatles-esque electric piano, upright bass and delicious saxophone on “Goodnight Jamie”, there is lush instrumentation to be heard everywhere.
This is such an exceptional and accomplished album from a person who seems very much at the height of his power. The last two albums were good…very good, but he has surpassed himself here. He has lifted the lid on a delicious stew he has been preparing for some time and invites us all to dine at his sumptuous restaurant, ably assisted by some notable performers like Craig Fortnam (North Sea Radio Orchestra, Arch Garrison), Carol Hodge (Crass, Steve Ignorant), William D Drake (Cardiacs), and let’s not forget Stephen Evens creator Steve Gilchrist, who pressed record.
PAUL MORRICONE – GO SANCTION YOURSELF – Track by Track:
‘Sanction’ is a contranym – a word with two opposite meanings. To sanction can be to approve of something, but it also means to penalise or apply punishment.
I named the album ‘Go Sanction Yourself’ because that’s exactly what people in our country have been happily doing for the last decade. Through public votes and actions, we find ourselves self-sabotaged, an island increasingly cutting its own nose off to spite its face. People unwittingly approving their own punishment. A nation sanctioning itself.
01 – I’ve Got You In The Palm Of My Hand
This opening track signifies a shift in sound even more towards dark cinematic dance from the previous two records. The live rhythm section of Ant and Mitch double up with electronic beats throughout most of this record, giving me the chance to go to town on the rest of the soundscape. This album is mix-up of low-fi electronica with organic instruments. I also wanted a Timpani solo because, why not. It’s a piece of two halves – the first being the song and then it goes off into a brass-laden layering upon layering sound collage for the second part. It’s a mid-pace dance, perfect to walk with a swagger to.
This song also acts as a distinct start of the more direct socio-political messages on this album. Imagine being so distracted that you’ve inadvertently signed up to greater and greater restrictions. As we sleepwalk further and further to the right, we may find it’s too late to protest about it. The words act as a contract you signed but never read the small print to. All you have to do is repeat after me…
02 – Laughing At You
The full title to this song is actually ‘They’re Laughing At You, Not Laughing With You’ and is a message to anyone who thinks that a privileged Etonian is ‘just like one of us’. You’ll be waiting a very, very long time for the rewards of their trickle-down economics, especially in places like Keighley and Dewsbury who got fooled by patriotic promises.
Musically, I was trying to simplify things by writing over only a bass line. I was thinking along the lines of new wave electro bands like Blancmange or early Depeche Mode to inspire me for the Linn Drum programming. We wanted the organic drums to resemble the pots and pans that people have become accustomed to banging whenever they are told to celebrate something. The rest is a foray into eighties synths and funk minimalism you can clap outside your houses to. I’ve left room in some of these songs for the odd sax solo – always the baritone for me.
03 – Goodnight Jamie
This is a more lavish sounding track which builds on the trip-hop smoothness of the last couple of records. I had imagined myself to be in the late seventies, walking through a New York filmset carrying my baritone sax, writing the theme tune to it. This is a song written in widescreen.
I love narrative in songs and singing in first-person from a range of characters. I imagine the guy in this story to be forced through some kind of compulsion to keep coming back to a disaster, a fire he keeps stoking. All the while, there is a constant smell of leather furniture, smoke and after shave.
Producer Stephen Gilchrist and I enlisted artist Carol Hodge to add the soul choir in the choruses, with a generous helping of Van Morrison’s percussionist Mike Ozzie Osborn throughout to add that late night frame of mind. Originally titled ‘Jamie’s Theme’, it’s still not clear who he or she is.
04 – People In My Way
Many times, people have come up to me and said ‘hey, you reckon you’re a crooner? Well, why don’t you sing My Way?’. So here it is. My version of My Way. Only it’s about people in my way. It started with moulding a synth bass to sound like something out of the John Barry theme to On Her Majesty’s Secret Service, then making the line plod around atonally like a meandering member of the public. The guitar is plugged straight into the desk with no amp offering a slice of post-punk funk, first take. Then Ant’s seriously tight drums busily counteract the cumbersome bass line deliberately.
As I’m getting older, I’m getting more impatient too. I’ve never been known to suffer fools, but these days you get two kinds of idiot in your way. Those who are oblivious who are a danger to themselves and those who know what they are doing and are a danger to everyone else. Perhaps this song is about someone other than me, who just see other people as something int their path to be swept aside. You decide.
05 – Peabody
My fascination with the TV studio orchestra of the early seventies comes to the fore on this song. One of my favourite albums is ‘Something’ by Shirley Bassey, featuring a lavish orchestra backed by a seriously funky band (including Chas Hodges on bass!). So that was the basis for this approach – keep the band tight, then wash the sound with drifting strings. I also wanted to conjure some of the more ethereal orchestrations of Wally Stott from his work on Scott Walker albums.
The story is based on a real account from neighbours in an apartment block somewhere in the city. They come to the horrible realisation that a woman they hadn’t seen for a number of years hadn’t disappeared but had been sat there, dead, in her apartment all this time. The chorus lyric ‘What a world that we’re living in that no-one missed her’ is an actual quote from one resident. A chilling indifference to someone’s life within a place you can easily disappear.
06 – The Observer
A complete exercise in electronica, using a drone sampled from an old recording of an analogue synth looped in the background. I’d been to see Suzanne Ciani live and was entranced by her manipulation of the Buchla synthesiser so needed to respond. This cut and paste looping dictated that I write this in 7/8 and then program an arp to follow patterns over seven beats at a time. The only studio additions to my home recording are Ant’s choppy drum kit matching the beats, my voice, and the hammered dulcimer of Kate Arnold.
I often find myself distant, lost in moments of observation. As I age, I like the feeling of extraction rather than interaction more and more. For years, my mind has been full of useless or unnecessary things. The emptying of my mind allows me to truly watch and absorb everything around me like a fresh, new person. I try and sing this song in the same effortless way.
07 – Are We Having A Moment?
This is a very old song I was waiting for the right time to tackle. It is as close to a traditional ballad love song as I’ll get, but with plenty of interpretation. I’m certain this could be sung by any of my favourite singers of fifties/sixties pop where a good bit of pathos always goes a long way – I was channelling Gene Pitney, Roy Orbison, Lena Horne or Dusty Springfield in my delivery. I also wanted to think about the small production-line arrangements of instrumentation a studio system would work with around these times. Drums, bass, guitar and a percussionist too close to the microphone. Then a beautiful and intricate piano holding it all together – in this case played by Cardiacs’ maestro William D Drake. Above all this, a choir and string section act as countermelodies to the vocals, almost like lead instruments in their own right. Julia Arnez from The Scaramanga Six performs all the voices in the ‘Disney Choir’ on this record. Lastly, I doubled all the lead guitar lines with the haunting hammered dulcimer of Kate Arnold. This is a Spector-inspired chocolate box pop record.
08 – It Must Have Been The Rain
Another social commentary on complacency in society. You just about get through a shut down and the world seems to have changed beyond all recognition, only for people to happily sink back into the old routines as soon as they can. This is a song about short-term memory loss.
Mitch and Ant lock down a rhythm section with such precision on this track, it’s hard to know what real and what elements are electronic. I wrote it on a piano, imagining I was in a hall playing to no-one because they were all too busy trying to get off with each other at a newly opened nightclub. Nobody wants to be reminded of the rain while the sun is shining. This felt to me like a theme tune for a very downbeat British television crime drama, complete with a serious minor key chorus, sung with a clenched fist. Miserable, rain-soaked melodrama.
09 – Pale Shadow
I brought together the basic ensemble of Ant on brushed kit, Craig Fortnam on acoustic guitar, Jon Clayton on double bass, Kate on dulcimer and myself on a Twin Peaks tremolo baritone guitar for this song. The pauses are as important as the notes. Long-term collaborator Spike Scott then took a brief on the orchestral arrangements to create a separate world of strings floating ominously on top. All of this is designed as a vehicle for my voice, reaching to the top and bottom of my baritone range. It’s important when writing to know your strengths and limits as a singer, and to phrase the words that suit your delivery. The best singers are also writers, with the exception of Tom Jones who can make anyone’s song sound like his own.
10 – Dining Out (On That Particular Buffet)
Finishing off the record, I wanted to bring things back to the political theme. This dance track was the first written for this album. I’m sure you can guess which self-serving pantomime philanderer was in power at the time. As predicted when I wrote this, his time would be up, but only to butter his bread at different table with more rich pickings. When you come from a place of absolute privilege, the triflings of running a country are of no consequence to you. Simply move on to the next banquet.
Musically, this is as direct as it comes. Beats and kit melded together with a lead bass throughout. Staccato piano and then gang vocals from Carol Hodge and me. A hook-laden dance protest song.
Introduction and review by Andrew Wood.
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