Being a long time fan of Gomez and of their awesome live shows, particularly the solo sets that frequently form a big part of their charismatic magic, I couldn’t believe my ears when I heard of Ian Ball’s (IB) recording of his debut solo LP ‘Who Goes There’. For me, IB is quite simply a singer/song writing maestro who delivers incredibly sensitive, clever and ultimately engaging live sets that are satisfying enough to comatose a horse from any non-specific distance. So, let’s see what he gets up to in a studio shall we?
The opening track ‘Sweet Sweet Sleep’ hasn’t been off my stereo or out of my head since I first played it, so beware! Whilst it only hints at the raw emotion of an IB performance, its somewhat restrained sound is as moving as it is genius. It’s seemingly basic construct allows so much scope for any number of additions. The smooth free flowing mellow drone superbly underpins the song in its entirety. And whilst the sheer yearning of IB isn’t captured in this polished environment, there remains just enough weight behind the lyrics to put the squeeze on those oh so cold heart strings.
An apologetic yet more upbeat ‘Automatic Message’ follows, echoing both Madonna’s ‘Ray of light’ and ‘The Golden Path’ by Flaming Lips/Chem. Bros. as it goes (If you can hear both tracks in your head, you’ll know which part I mean). It’s here we hear IB let loose with some of his vocal versatility too, a great part of his trademark delivery!
A live favourite in the form of ‘Failure’ certainly shines bright and new given its new found composition beyond voice and guitar. The chorus simply serves as a vacuum and demands interaction from all who hear. And what’s this? Lady backing vocals, oh it’s all too much! What a great losing your virginity track! Crediting ‘Easy Lover’ to Genesis is, in my mind, a tongue in cheek hint toward its true makers and surely not a badly researched/recalled non-fact, can it? If it is I’m sure IBs sorry Phil(s)!
‘Your Move’ musically reminds me of almost any Joe Cocker track with its mood, whilst the tune echoes Primal Screams ‘Cry myself blind’. Aside from all I’ve just gone on the record as saying, this track is far more subdued and perhaps even lacklustre. Now that’s honesty for you, sorry IB!
A love song for Valium follows, yeah you read it right! ‘The Elephant Pharmacy’ spent a long time in the making and tells the tale of an unsuccessful post graduation drug hunt. Having a lady present to properly execute the duet must’ve been nice for IB who must surely be sick and tired of explain the conflicting solo vocal when playing it live. All aspects of this track are sublime; the instrumentation, the tale, the vocals, the sentiment, the sneaky pop at Elvis… ooh, somebody stop me!
‘Free Tickets to the Moon’ serves merely as a brief interim of a lullaby that is as gentile and delicate as anything you’ll hear, which in some way prepares you for the awkward yet all too familiar subject matter of the title track that follows.
Touching upon the sore subject of inappropriately timed lust of a mutual persuasion, the odd choice for title track ‘Who Goes There’ shows us all that (understated & unrecognised) stars are just human too! For a track that exceeds the 10 minute barrier, it certainly tends to plod and amble on, albeit agreeably, in its middle of the road fashion.
‘When We Were Cool’ hears the confession of a weary man beaten down by the music industry, adulthood and the fatigue that reflection holds. It’s all sweetly done to a casual yet cool and pleasantly simple track.
Another short, undeniably sweet ditty called ‘Batteries’ exposes the sinister mechanisms of IBs observational mind and the ponderings therein.
IB left Liverpool around 5 years ago and moved to the US. So yes, all you Gomez fans who, like me know that they spend far too much time over there, can indeed blame IB for their prolonged absence. The country fuelled ‘I Knew You Were Trouble’ goes some way to explain his decision to flee! And shock, horror it sounds like more lady trouble!
Something of a retrospective LP closer follows. ‘Enzymes’ highlight for me is its spectacular outro, though all that precedes it is wonderfully crafted and composed.
IB certainly goes some way to bear his soul and sheds some guilt borne demons as he does on this LP full of tales of morose morality and life affirming alarm, each set to a finely formed sonic backdrop. That said, the music doesn’t capture the team spirit or fervour of the mighty ‘mez. The vocal delivery is left somewhat wanting with its noticeable lack of simple soaring or straining dynamics. However, the true depth of IBs inner self is laid open for all to inspect and with the lyrical content being so opulently studded with tragic familiarity, its hard not to succumb to the pleas of an almighty LP that’s practically begging to be heard.