Songs For The Road

Being thoroughly miserable is hard work — there will come a time when you might be tempted to smile at a baby, laugh at a joke or partake in some seasonal good-cheer. When that time comes, make sure that you are armed with David Ford's latest album 'Songs for the Road'.

A few minutes of this melancholy album will plunge you back into a suitable state of despair. Not a violent-wrist-slitting despair, but more of a tempered politically-savvy-life-sucks kind of despair.

Falling comfortably into the homogenous group that is the British male singer/songwriter, David Ford sells himself a little short. For while there is actually something rather prodigious about his musical talent — he plays numerous instruments on the album and creates complex, layered melodies — it is overlaid by the reedy-voiced depression that makes one of his ballads indistinguishable from the next.

Melodramatic love songs (generally of the 'love hurts' rather than 'love triumphs' type) make up the bulk of the album, but there are also two quietly angry protest songs ('St Peter' and 'Requiem') for the politically disaffected.

The lyrics, while at times a little pretentious, offer some gems for collectors of quirky phrases — "I'll wear my cynicism like a tattoo" ('Song for the Road') and "So we sell out our kids for a tank full of gas/ and a lifetime in plastics for a fist full of cash" ('Requiem').

Chuck in a few comments about the use of a harmonica, glockenspiel and mandolin, and that's about all there is to say, really.

There is nothing ostensibly wrong with the album, but there is also nothing which prompts more than mild indifference or easy tolerance.

Whack it on next time you want to wallow in a pool of self-pity and you'll be instantly transported to a place where everything is grey and just a little bit frayed.