Reviews of Trevor Osborne – Singer/songwriter
Review of “Songs from the Archives by Terence Dean
His Back Pages: Angst, self-doubt and humility wins the day.
Finally, after an agonisingly long wait, Trevor Osborne (The Travelling Troubadour) presents us with “Songs From The Archives”, a 13-song set, a shade over 47 minutes long and 48 (yes, 48!) years in the making.
The mainstay of those thirteen tracks (eight in all) are early efforts, written with longtime cohort, Stuart Sillett – Stu, in the main, providing the lyrics and Trev the music (a kind of Bernie Taupin/Elton John arrangement), although there would doubtless be times where that music & lyrics line would be blurred.
Kicking off with “When We Were Young”, written by Trev in 1995, during his time in Worcester. It possesses a lovely melody, tripping along, in a style reminiscent of Humblebums era Gerry Rafferty. However, that cheerfulness throws a veil over the underlying feeling of the early signs of resignation, where “Our talent didn’t match our dreams” and their “Attempts at wealth and glory sunk without trace”.
Track Two is the first of those Sillett/Osborne compositions, dating from 1979 “I‟m On My Way Down” was conceived by banging out a beat on a dining table (perhaps a nod to Paul Simon‟s experimental side – certainly, he was a strong influence on the pair). With mystifying, esoteric lyrics, an echo-chamber feel and staccato styling, mirroring its dining table origins – but who cares if we don‟t quite understand what it‟s all about? The song is a grower and repeated plays, peel away the layers and reveal a rattlingly great little gem.
“Mr.Happy” brings us the second Trev only composition (from 1996) and we begin to see a pattern emerge with his song themes. The self-depreciating nature of the lyric – should we assume it‟s autobiographical? “He‟s got curly hair, he‟s got boats for feet”. Musically, it shuffles very pleasantly in a style that puts me in mind of Mungo Jerry‟s “In The Summertime” and those words have the observational and satirical lyricism of a certain Ray Davies, circa 1965.
“Fountain of Youth” is the oldest offering here, dating back to April 1977 – almost before Trev was able to even strum a chord. Here, it‟s presented in a stripped-back, understated acoustic version. The original, once feted to be a strings-laden fast rocker in the style of a late-seventies E.L.O. and (maybe) one day that version will see the (Electric) light of day. In the meantime, this slow-paced offering, its otherworldly lyrics, supported with acoustic guitar and a hauntingly good organ (provided by another long-time cohort, Matt Wiles) will do very nicely.
Okay, now let‟s get this straight: “Loretta” is a bona fide classic! Written by Sillett and Osborne in the June of 1979 (‟79 into ‟80 was certainly their „purple patch‟) and for this effort, all the stars were in alignment. A tale of a pimp and a prostitute (definitely NOT biographical then!), with cleverly double-tracked vocals, the production here is top-notch (take a bow, Paul Eastham), allowing the song to punch through the speakers and grab your attention – think „New Wave‟ era Graham Parker and Joe Jackson, with a heavy pinch of Costello vitriol, added for very good measure. Musically, the underlying electric chug-chug, is layered with drums, bass and (barely there) piano plus an understated (not too showy) guitar solo, in keeping with the feel of the song. Lyrically, it‟s pretty brutal – the out and out malice sitting perfectly with the atmosphere the song is trying (and succeeding) to portray.
This version of the song tears strips off any earlier attempts – and any songwriter (past or present) would cut off their right arm (as the saying goes) to have this fabulous song in their catalogue.
After such a dark subject matter, the mood could only get lighter – and “It‟s A Happy New Year (And There‟s So Much More To Look Forward To)” has the thankless task of following on from such a stunner. It‟s a raucous party romp (written by Trev in 1996), with his usual helping of sarcasm – as stated in the liner notes; “It‟s a New Year‟s Eve anthem for those who don‟t always embrace its positivity”. In parenthess, you can guess that Trev doesn‟t really mean what he says in the title – and the wry and humorous lyrics which follow, pretty much confirm it!
“Newtown On A Wet Monday Morning” is, to this writer‟s knowledge, the only instrumental in Trev‟s cannon, but, billed as a Sillett/Osborne composition, it puts lie to the fact that Stu only handled the lyrics! It‟s a lovely, haunting evocation of the black slate-clad flats, in a not so desirable suburb, on a cold and damp English autumnal morning – with double-tracked, plucked acoustic guitar and sparse piano, painting the picture to simple perfection.
“Wheels Within Wheels” is another song dating back to Trev and Stu‟s most creative period (this, from March ‟79). Lyrically, they return to the familiar stomping ground of young desperation and uncertainty for the future – all delivered in a cracking tune at a frenetic pace. Trev is in fine and very urgent voice, backed with Byrds-esque jangling guitar (and handclaps!)
As with many songs, the original recording was laid down in the early noughties, with additional finishing touches and production completed in the past couple of years. Credit to Trev for providing full information in the CD‟s liner notes (It‟s those notes that tell us the tambourine on this track was played – in perfect time – by Evie, four year-old daughter of Producer, Paul Eastham).
“Thirty Five Going On Eighteen” is another of Trev‟s songs from his Worcester days, dating from 1996. And – Oh, where is that elusive talent?! The ever-present self-doubt shines through against the backdrop of a pleasant melody, with beautifully understated orchestration. The chorus provides a great „singalong‟ opportunity – images of the crowd come to mind (all seventeen of us) punching the air in unison and Trev delivers a very strong vocal performance here, but those lyrics… don‟t they just make you want to give the poor guy a hug?!
From one track with a great hook, along comes one even better! Trev shifts it up a gear for more fist-pumping with “Have A Little Faith”, containing an even more infectious chorus. Originally written in 1985, but polished up and re-worked in 2020, it‟s a catchy number with even the slightest glimmer of hope in the lyrics.
“Show Me The Way” is the shortest track on the album, at a shade over two minutes and another from the „Worcester Days‟. A simple tune with satisfyingly muted accompaniment, but somewhat maudlin in sentiment; “I‟m not a praying man, but I‟m at the end of the road” (he needs another hug, folks)!
“Relentless Storm” is an ambitious undertaking. A life cycle „song suite‟, chronicling the journey from birth, through childhood, love, work and ultimately, Death. Written in mid to late 1980 and the last Sillett/Osborne song for a considerable amount of time, it can be compared to the likes of “Bohemian Rhapsody” or “Shine On You Crazy Diamond”, in that it‟s greater than the sum of its parts.
Weighing in at more than ten minutes long it feels as though it could be a challenging listen. However, with the piece containing various key sections (four in number) and with numerous pace changes, this helps to ensure it doesn‟t overstay its welcome – It‟s competently played, with fine production and plenty of „fiddly bits‟ to catch the ear at repeated plays.
The complexity contained within does make this song less of an instantly likeable track, particularly when compared to the companion pieces presented here, but with those repeated listens, it opens up to give a very rewarding experience. Powerful stuff.
And then, we come to the final offering. Did I mention that Sillett & Osborne Purple Patch? “For When God Calls” was written in January 1979, Trev and Stu creating something pretty remarkable. Not only in that it‟s such a strong song, but, at that time, they were writing beyond the capability of their musical talent – meaning Trev was not able to showcase the song as they heard it in their heads (it would have been the same for “Fountain of Youth”).
In structure and lyrically, it‟s reminiscent of “Bridge Over Troubled Water”, with a similar “I‟m on your side” sentiment. Another comparison (lyrically) could be made with “God Only Knows”, Brian Wilson opining “God only knows what I‟d be without you”, in Sillett‟s – pretty much flawless – words, his leading character would appear willing to go that one step further – “For when God calls, I will go with you” (a suicide pact, perhaps?).
For this version of the song, the vocals are provided by album Producer, Paul Eastham. In a recent radio interview, Trev stated that this was his and Stuart‟s strongest song and felt that, vocally, he would not be able to do it justice and wanted to achieve a version to be proud of. Well, I can tell you, that box is well and truly ticked here.
It was the right decision, as this is a stunning performance. With a voice in the vein of Paul Carrack or Justin Currie, Mr.Eastham has the necessary lung power and voice to hit the big notes required – and it‟s truly capable of raising the hairs on the back of the neck!
Musically simple, but building in power and intensity, acoustic guitar and piano for verse one, with bass and drums joining for the second, with further layers of organ and orchestration creating further build-up to underpin the emotion, as the song reaches a tumultuous crescendo. It‟s majestic, emotional and compelling stuff.
The summit is reached, this pinnacle is the backbone of the Sillett & Osborne portfolio – and, that it‟s been „Out There‟ for so long, without being picked up by the right artist, remains a mystery (Oh, for the right contacts, or to be in the „Right Place at the Right Time‟) It‟s testament to Trev‟s talent and perseverance that this is a collection of very strong, tuneful, clever and emotional songs.
It‟s telling that the Sillett/Osborne collaborations have a more varied lyrical content – the „solo‟ work having a tendency to lower the bucket deep down into that well, where the constant question of his own ability hangs in the air.
It‟s a question asked only to the mirror – those of us who know him are well aware that, while it may be a trickle (rather than a torrent), that ability is still there – always has been – and, while steeped in that angst, agony, anxiety, apprehension (and that‟s just the A‟s!), to this listener, it is a very rewarding and uplifting experience.
Terence Dean, 13/01/2025.
Review of Remarkably Unremarkable – By Glen Dixon
Osborne’s beguiling concoction of songs is wonderfully joyous, humorous and nostalgic, yet there is a seam of cynicism, of melancholy throughout, which binds them and, occasionally, elevates them to an uncommon level of profundity.
Often, when an optimistic, upbeat melody is combined with nihilistic lyrics, this album is the musical equivalent of a summer picnic with the very real threat of a downpour lingering in every verse.
‘Praise Me’ tears along happily until the hint of scorn for celebrity culture seeps in with the lines ‘You don’t have to be sincere/Praise me – delude me/Just tell me what I want to hear’.
‘Walking Like a Man Again’ appears to be a comment on confused masculinity, while ‘Rushing Around’ is a condemnation of the modern world’s seeming inability to defer gratification for more than the few seconds it takes to switch on a mobile device.
‘The Lonesome Mugger’ is a sad tale of an aspirational criminal simply too gentle to prosper in his chosen profession, which has echoes of the great.
‘Ernie’ by Benny Hill. In stark contrast, Osborne shows his range with the poignant ‘I Spend My Time With Photographs’. Anyone who has ever lost a parent couldn’t fail to be moved by the beautiful, almost spectral piano and the painful resonance of the lyrics, ‘In photographs, time stands still/Nobody getting old, nobody getting ill’.
‘The Benefit Of Ringing Your Friends When They’re Out’ is a rip-roaring crowd pleaser, which showcases Osborne’s talent for juxtaposition: anti-social sentiments run easily alongside a celebratory, optimistic melody.
‘She’s With This Strange Man’ could be an anthem for misfits and stalkers everywhere – material success and conformity are eerily repugnant to the ‘voice’ of the song, a man suffering from unrequited love who likes to ‘Stare at lamp posts on industrial parks’ (don’t we all?)
‘Heatwave in October’ is an archetypal Osborne song: there’s a nostalgic beauty to the soft guitar / piano backing and a relaxed richness to his voice as he laments the awful, displaced clemency of sunny weather in the autumn.
‘Remarkably Unremarkable’ is anything but: this darkly witty, at times euphorically ironic collection of songs might bring with it a glowering, ominous bank of cloud, but that’s no reason to cancel the picnic. Musically, the threat of rain here makes the moments in the sun all the more precious.
Trevor in the Ashford Kentish Express – 12th March 2020