CD: School Of Language - 45

Field Music’s David Brewis probes Donald Trump

Finding snapshots to characterise Donald Trump’s US presidential campaign and its aftermath is a tall order. There are so many, and assembling them could result in a wearying cavalcade of the all-too familiar. Whether in book form – such as Michael Wolff’s Fire and Fury – or film – say, the new Steve Bannon documentary The Brink – the net result is largely to validate existing viewpoints. Such well-trodden ground begs for new approaches.

With the Trump-themed 45, Field Music’s David Brewis reassumes the School of Language persona he last adopted in 2014. Over 10 tracks and 33 minutes, he has not made a protest album or even a polemic. Although there’s an analogy with Phil Ochs’s debut album All the News That’s Fit to Sing, he eschews personal comment in favour of dispassionate first-person commentary. In this respect, 45 is closer to a John Adams opera than a conventional state-of-play concept album. “A Beautiful Wall”, “Lock Her Up”, “Rocket Man” and their companions are the equivalent of short stories.

Musically, three tracks aside, the setting is a clipped funk-pop along the lines of the recent Field Music, the David Bowie of “Fashion”, Bowie/Queen’s “Under Pressure” and a bare-bones Talking Heads. Adrian Belew-style guitar is never far away. Of the non-rhythm focussed cuts, “Lock Her Up” is the standout. Written from Hilary Clinton’s perspective, a drifting, John Lennon-esque melody features the lyrics “I put my career on hold… I thought that we could change some things if I played the doting wife like Barbara or Nancy… I learned to bite my lip.” It climaxes with Brewis plaintively singing “and then they say lock her up.”

Throughout, the tone is incredulity: how did it come to this? By favouring subtlety, David Brewis expresses his astonishment more powerfully than if he had taken a sledgehammer to this particular nut.

Add comment

The content of this field is kept private and will not be shown publicly.

Plain text

  • No HTML tags allowed.
  • Lines and paragraphs break automatically.
  • Web page addresses and email addresses turn into links automatically.
‘45’s’ tone is incredulity: how did it come to this?

rating

4

explore topics

share this article

the future of arts journalism

You can stop theartsdesk.com closing!

We urgently need financing to survive. Our fundraising drive has thus far raised £33,000 but we need to reach £100,000 or we will be forced to close. Please contribute here: https://gofund.me/c3f6033d

And if you can forward this information to anyone who might assist, we’d be grateful.

Subscribe to theartsdesk.com

Thank you for continuing to read our work on theartsdesk.com. For unlimited access to every article in its entirety, including our archive of more than 15,000 pieces, we're asking for £5 per month or £40 per year. We feel it's a very good deal, and hope you do too.

To take a subscription now simply click here.

And if you're looking for that extra gift for a friend or family member, why not treat them to a theartsdesk.com gift subscription?

more new music

Young composer and esoteric veteran achieve alchemical reaction in endless reverberations
Two hours of backwards-somersaults and British accents in a confetti-drenched spectacle
The Denton, Texas sextet fashions a career milestone
The return of the artist formerly known as Terence Trent D’Arby
Contagious yarns of lust and nightlife adventure from new pop minx
Exhaustive box set dedicated to the album which moved forward from the ‘Space Ritual’ era
Hauntingly beautiful, this is a sombre slow burn, shifting steadily through gradients
A charming and distinctive voice stifled by generic production