ALL PROCEEDS FROM THE SALE OF THIS ALBUM GO TO PANCREATIC CANCER RESEARCH UK. THERE IS ANOTHER REALLY GOOD REASON TO GET THIS ALBUM, AND THAT IS THAT IT IS A JOY TO LISTEN TO FROM START TO FINISH. A REAL TREAT.
When Eric Bouillette passed away from pancreatic cancer last year, the world of intelligent music mourned. A shining light in our world, we grieved for his partner, Anne-Claire, his numerous musical collaborators, and friends, and for ourselves because the music we enjoy so much can barely stand being deprived of someone so talented.
Nova Cascade are a wonderful outfit and having interviewed two of the main protagonists last year and grown very fond of Anne-Claire and her ongoing efforts to promote class music and artists, I knew they are all strong enough to be capable of not merely surviving the loss, but to continue to provide us with joyful music.
The Navigator is a wonderful album musically describing journeys. The Kickstarter campaign reached its initial goal within 24 hours of its launch, which is fantastic. Every single penny made from this album will be donated to Pancreatic Cancer Research UK, but as my headline above shows, this album is well worth buying for the music in its own right. It is wholly delightful, telling stories of journeys, both corporeal and ethereal. Vocalist, keyboardist and main composer, Dave Hilborne, is joined by stalwarts Charlie Bramald on flute, Dave Fick on bass, Lorenzo Poliandri on drums/percussion, and, of course, Eric himself on violin & guitars. The guitars are augmented by Colin Powell and violin by Nino Chikviladze. There are thirteen tracks on the album, and each deserves at least a few words of description for you all.
Sleeping Dogs. Should we let them lie? The female choir opens proceedings with a majestic feel, stunning before we get an extremely thoughtful track with mournful violin backed by picked guitar and soaring synths. Dave’s unique voice, dripping with emotion, enters asking the question – thankfully, we don’t let matters lie. The bass guitar is warm and inviting together with some very clever percussion work. This is such a strong opening to the album.
Safe Haven opens with more thoroughly gorgeous keyboards, soaring in the consciousness, but in a subdued manner. When the main passage begins, the bass is throbbing, and you smile in recognition at Charlie leading the melody on his flute. You can see the sailors in your mind welcoming the peace and tranquillity of the subject after a dangerous voyage, especially when the flute and acoustic guitar bring us a pastorally joyful noise with the synths creating the peace below. Just short of four minutes in, the track expands, but in a playful way, the harbour providing comfort, fun, and more than a little mischief. This track embodies just about everything I love about the music I am so lucky to receive and review.
We follow this wonder with A Walk Along The Canal. I think there must be some deep memories embedded in this, exemplified by the achingly beautiful violin leading equally lovely keys and some wonderfully subdued percussion. Close your eyes and imagine two lovers walking and taking in the sight and sounds of nature accompanied by a deeply thoughtful guitar solo.
The title track is up next, and it is an epic ten-minute plus piece. More female choristers open with some deep male voices and bass undertones. The flute is ever so questing, telling us the story of those brave souls who basically say damn it all, let’s explore, let’s see what is out there, and the incredibly intricate drums push this narrative along before the guitar riff burst hits us out in the ether. There is a whole collaborative feel as this track moves along, and by the midpoint we are experiencing a pastoral musical landscape which can quite easily be compared to the finest work Oldfield produced at the height of his powers, it really is that good. As we move into the final sequence, the band provide us with a dreamy conclusion.
The Night Crossing is a far shorter track which puts me in mind of The Ferryman transporting the lost souls to the underworld, a dramatic, yet inevitable close to our mortality. This is a very well-crafted song, with flute and keys collaborating well.
The Fever Dream is a mysterious track, full of eastern promise. On long voyages, it was common for sailors and passengers to fall ill and under the influence of the darker recesses of the mind, and some of the noises here are quite disturbing, but, amongst this, some moments of dark beauty such as the supreme guitar solo presented to us. At the three-minute mark, Charlie’s flute introduces an 80’s style drum machine before the full Asian journey manifests itself to us, the violin glorious in its lightness as the voyage comes to its conclusion with the brightness of the destination manifesting itself.
Any Minute Now opens with narration. Where did all the years pass? We are taken before our time. The female voices are ethereal and beautiful, and the noises Hilborne produces on his keys are lovely before he enters vocally with the feeling dripping out of every single word accompanied by some intense guitar work. Simply beautiful, this has been released ahead of the album, and I have embedded it below.
The Noble Lion speaks to me of a man who inspired wondrous music, with a collective of his friends and collaborators making a noise which screams out happiness, a noise which tells all of us that we should celebrate our friends’ lives, but with a measure of respect, which the quieter moments absolutely do, single bass notes, delicate guitar, percussion so quiet it is barely there, but powerful nonetheless, and the guitar building in intensity to drag us back to that group of people laughing and celebrating a life well lived. A noble lion, who will be remembered for years to come. Enjoy this below.
Submerged is a darker affair. It could be a swim too far, it could be the thrill of the chase in war at sea, it could be the hunter and the hunted. It fair races along presenting to us a sense of adrenaline induced fear with the guitar riff planting itself in our mind. The only criticism? Far too short. There is an epic within this crying out for attention.
Weightless is interesting. I close my eyes listening to this and simply let my mind go in the dreamy, eternal expanse of space, with Hilborne’s fragile voice almost too much to bear at first, but then in harmony with the choir kickstarting us on our journey, and once that starts, close eyes again, relax, guitar washing over us, forever upward.
Return To Haven marks, I believe, the end of the corporeal journeys, the violin crying to us in a sense of both relief and gratitude, the drums belting out the finale in a wonderfully simplistic sense. The rain pours down, the violin and acoustic guitar so gorgeously sad remembering lost souls who helped get them to this point before the explosion of noise with a wonderful guitar solo leading the final approach, and as the ship enters the haven, heads bowed and violin and keys leading thanks.
The final two tracks clearly fit within the ethereal, the, to me, certainty of our loved ones continuing the wondrous eternal journey of learning and life. Somewhere Between Here & Now with its deceptively simple notes invites the listener to remember and repeats the earlier narration. Where did all the years pass, we are taken before our time. Not purgatory in the music, but a timeless journey to something wonderful. And we close with Au Revoir. No words are necessary.
Peace, Eric. By heaven, you must be pleasing the almighty with your music, yes?
