How we respond to music is an entirely subjective matter. We can try to explain what it is that touches or repels us about something we hear, but there is always a grey area where resides music’s unfathomable magic formula. There is no rule of law in that department of the brain.
Now, in my experience John Martyn is one of the artists who tends to polarise opinion and send signals flying in both directions.
I’m firmly on the positive receptor side of the fence. I think Martyn was one of the shapeshifting mavericks who stretched the meaning of “folk” to within inches of its life. He was both a crusader and troubadour.
Martyn made two solo records in 1968, recorded when he was just 20and fresh out of Glasgow. There is greatness oozing out them, though in fits and bursts as he adjusted to the recording process and soaked up the bright lights of London.Two more quickly followed as his technique evolved and his lyrical palette expanded.
By 1973 he had relocated to Hastings and he was by the sea for the first time. His exposure to the ever-changing moods of his new environment was where the title of Bless the Weather and much of the inspiration comes from.
Here Martyn really went about the business of creating a sound to fit his increasingly jazzy vocalisation. Danny Thompson slides around his every breath with with fluid and resonant bass tones. They become co-conspirators in a journey towards somewhere entirely their own.
Martyn’s rapturous songs of love are elevated by the evocative sonic spells they conjure. Both words and delivery are acutely expressive. He sings like his life depends on it. Sweat and tears mix with the windy harbour rain. The love-struck writing is rhapsodic in places. There is blood and there is fire.
