Monolith Cocktail Blog

ALBUM REVIEW/DOMINIC VALVONA

Junkboy ‘Littoral States’
(Wayside And Woodland Recordings)

Ah, the brothers Hanscomb have returned, and all is suddenly well in the world. Although the catalyst was sparked by the death of Mik and Rich’s father during the initial stages of the Covid pandemic, their latest album is a disarming love affair with the two moiety-tied counties that have offered them the most inspiration, space for ruminating and joy. For Littoral States takes a moving journey across the much romanticised, painted, photographed and literary rich coastlines and river ways of West and East Sussex – a landscape I’m very much aware of, my former playground before making the move north to Glasgow.

Drawn to this mostly idyllic part of England from Essex (the inland versant inspiration for the brothers’ 2019 memento, Trains Trees Topophilia; the “earth” companion piece to this album’s “water”) for a number of reasons, West Sussex and its seaside resort of Bognor Regis was the birthplace of the brothers father. It served as a concept of a gentle kind, as the Junkboy appellation duo conceived of processing that loss, of that connection, by musically and lyrically setting out from that holiday camp town and travelling through a number of notable, quintessentially English folkloric imbued spots and towns (and of course the city of Brighton & Hove) linked to water or the sea.

Toes have already been dipped in such fertile climes of psychogeography and scenic aspiration; the already mentioned Trains Trees Topophilia set in Essex but venturing out into both Brighton & Hove (its Hove affixed bedfellow the first meeting place between me and Rich, many moons ago) and picturesque Seaford (where Rich has lived with his family for a good few years now). The emphasis is now on a proto-pilgrimage of their settled homes (Mik down at the other end of the map, in Worthing, West Sussex; another well-known stop on the mainline for us commuters between Portsmouth and Brighton & Hove), taking in the scenic routes, coastal and river pathways in-between.

Read up and absorbing the myriad of either vivid or washed applied depictions of the two Sussex counties (from the brothers Paul and John Nash to the magical ruins watercolours of John Piper and charming quaint naïve port scenes of fisherman-artist Alfred Wallis), Junkboy have accepted the calling of the most congruous Wayside And Woodland Recordings label to fashion a beautifully emotive pulling album of the pastoral, bucolic and near mistily mysterious. As that label name suggests, musician Ben Holton’s burgeoning platform features landscape pieces prominently; from uniformed pylon fields to near faded recollections of hilltops and valleys via the work of epic45, Oliver Cherer, El Heath and My Autumn Empire – some of which, have influenced the brothers own sound over the years. And so it was a no brainer that this union would work out: almost effortlessly actually. Holton, a multitasking recording artist, label boss, is also a dab hand in the artwork department, providing the ‘aesthetic vision’ via the Sussex coastal photography of Jolene Karmen.

To that same vision, you can add a penchant for and an imbued influence of Sandy Denny And The Strawbs, Ultramarine, Forest and Joe Hisaishi. And of course, if not always obvious but sometimes just in spirit, the instrumental ‘elements’ suites found across the Beach Boys’ Pet Sounds and SMiLE LPs. If Brian Wilson was in fact born in Heathfield instead of Hawthorne then he might very well have turned out this album’s ‘Cuckmere River Rises’ vaped mirage – from the introductory French horn masquerading trumpet to the custom wobbled and flange fanned vibrato guitar.

Before that fast flowing river song, you can hear a hint of the Californian’s percussion on the eccentric English supernatural ‘Witch Of The Watery Depths’ – more in the style of a localized, wistfully dreamy musing on a Civil War era witch’s fate than scary Blair Witch Project fright. The ethereal, apparitional voice of the native Sussex singer Hannah Lewis wells up from the depths of a punishment ducking to not so much haunt but air a veiled, soaring lament. Sussex has its fair share of innocents’ accused of witchcraft, although there’s little evidence that many such victims were put to death; the exception being Martha Bruff and Ann Hoswell, ordered by the Mayor of Rye to be drowned – I’m not sure if this fate was carried out. Whatever the inspiration, this is folksy pastoral enchantment of English horror soundtracks, Hampshire & Foat, Sandy Denny, Sproatly Smith and Clannad’s airy mystical Sherwood Forest atmospherics.

Lewis is featured again on the seafarers’ plaint, ‘The Sea Captain’; the soaring voiced guest channeling Denny longingly casting out lovelorn hopes and promises in the hope of reuniting with a lost at sea lover: “I’d sell my soul to the waves below, to reach you”. Perhaps throwing herself into the tumult waters of the shipwreck coast (Seaford being, apparently, a renowned spot back when Tennyson’s penned such tragedies as the ‘The Wreck’; the locals, rather splendidly known as ‘Seaford shags’, had a reputation for swooping in like gannets on such disasters-at-sea), Lewis’ sorrowful yearns prove effective over the folksy music if Phantom Power era Super Fury Animals, C Duncan and Fairport Convention.

The brothers’ dual guitar signatures of the entwined, the picked and the brassy resonating have previously been expanded upon by a modest, softly orchestrated guest list of strings and additional instruments. In this case we have Will Calderbank on cello, Becca Wright on violins, Marcas Hamblett on trumpet and Owen Gillham on banjo ebow. With some recurring faces this quartet offer a complimentary, sympathetic and spiralling classical verve to the sound. However, the latter, Mr. Gillham, invokes an English version of Americana and country music wherever he pops up – a shade or Roger McGuinn. But going through the most musical changes, ‘So Breaks Tomorrow’ pictures the Archers Of Loaf through a psychedelic lens, whilst ‘An Easier Time’ travels back to the Tudor court as reimagined by a Blue Hawaii invoked Beach Boys, Fairfield Parlor and the Incredible String Band.

On the way across this seascape there’s a charmed dalliance with the mythical ‘Knucker’ water dragon of the sands of Lynminister, Binstead, Lancing, Shoreham and Worthing (named, I’m informed, after the holes this beast leaves behind); a birdsong rustic stirred imaging of the long abandoned mill hamlet of Tidemills; and, what sounds like, a motor-board powered lilted survey of the River Ouse, which runs alongside and through many of this album’s beauty spots, cutting through the South Downs.

A loving tribute, romantic cartography and healing process, Littoral States provides an alternative pathway from another age; a world away from the vacuous self-absorption of popular culture and the distractions of the internet. It’s a wonderful, magical, and for the most part reassuring, gentle gradient landscape that the brothers dream up; tailoring nostalgia and influences into something picturesque, peaceable but above all, moving. Folklore from a recent past is woven into much older geological layers, with the emphasis on the element of water; acting as the source, the road that connects the stopover on this West and East Sussex travelogue photo album. It’s good to have them back in the fold, so to speak, waxing lyrical and dreamily envisioning such beautiful escapism.