- Mon, 2011-04-11 12:02
Pete Lawrie’s debut album A Little Brighter is the result of several years of hard work and a lifetime immersed in music. Coming from a family of professional musicians, he took up the trumpet and piano at an early age, discovered hip hop midway through his teens, and then country and blues through work as a producer. It was almost inevitable that he would start to write music of his own, and when he did every stop on his musical journey was brought to bear on the songs that he was creating.
Ostensibly a singer-songwriter’s record, at the core of the eleven songs that form A Little Brighter is the combination of Lawrie’s dusky, Ray LaMontagne-meets-David Gray vocals and a classic approach to writing songs on the guitar and piano. But while many hopeful musicians might take such building blocks and create something tired or derivative, Lawrie avoids doing so through his thoughtful and adventurous arrangements, fantastic production (courtesy of Rollo Armstrong), and a good ear for lyrics.
These touches allow Lawrie to reinvigorate familiar territory. Dance On Your Own, for example, is an Elton John-inspired piano ballad draped in lavish strings, but the tune’s lyrics give it a distinct flavour of its own: “I may be wrong, but I’m not. So go, and I’ll keep what I got from you, which is nothing but a skirt on the stairs and a song I can’t sing.” Similarly, If Not For You is a hand-clapping, hoedown of a song that recalls elements of both Mumford & Sons and Laura Marling’s debut albums, but the delicate descending piano-lines, shifting beats and well choreographed strings make Lawrie an equal of those acts rather than their imitator.
On How Could I Complain and Poor Man’s Game both the lyrics and the arrangement stand out. The former is a scuffed rock and roll strum, Lawrie’s ‘count your blessings’ message barked gruffly over a stomping beat and a distant organ, while the latter explores similar ground thematically in a more laidback manner, an acoustic, unprocessed piano spilling notes over Lawrie’s acoustic guitar, and a bluesy lead solo giving way to a slow crescendo of strings.
The album is at its best and most distinctive, however, when Lawrie allows further-removed influences to come into play. Conversational lyrics, a tender groove and a distant choir lend an edge to the warm ballad All That We Keep, alluding to his previously-professed love of Paul Simon’s Graceland. Paper Thin, on the other hand, supplements its gentle piano riff, sighing strings and whispered vocals with a crackling drum beat that gives a nod to hip hop’s sample culture. But the jewel in the crown is Just Dust. It fades into focus with a flurry of electronic hums and a soft synth and is pulled towards the chorus by strings and piano, whereupon a warm bass bobs under Jack Penate-esque guitars and Lawrie’s forceful vocals.
A Little Brighter is made to a fundamentally familiar blueprint: it is a collection of songs by a husky-voiced troubadour armed with a guitar, a piano and stories to tell. Into that basic blend Pete Lawrie pours his own personality and musical past, resulting in an album with a unique character that - as the title suggests - shines a little brighter than its peers.
