Nick Magnus goes all out on a seafaring pirate narrative.
Release Date: 16th September 2024
Label: Magick Nuns Records
Format: CD / Digital
A keyboard player of much renown, the name of Nick Magnus will be familiar to Hacketeers who’ve followed the solo path of (sigh…ex-Genesis guitarist) Steve Hackett, with who Nick performed and recorded from the late seventies to late eighties. The association barely does him justice, as along with numerous session associations, he has six solo albums to his credit, appearing on a regular basis since 1993. It’s to our everlasting shame that we haven’t been on his case since…cough…ahem…1983 when we last saw him onstage with the Hackett band.
Moving swiftly on, Nick dons the tricorn hat and Papa Het ‘tache to take the lead in a swashbuckling tale of love, loss and revenge. It’s the story of a young woman whose misplaced love condemns her to the grim streets of 18th century London. She ends up deported, and journeys across the high seas to the New World where imperialism and injustice rule; an island paradise that is not quite what it seems.
The story begins with an oak chest bound with iron straps and strangest but perhaps most importantly of all, the mortal remains of a brightly coloured bird. “Ship ahoy my pretty boys” is the bird’s cry in the ten minute prologue of An Almost Silent Witness. Symphonic, cinematic; call it what you will, the scene is set and a reminder to cock an ear for the Hackett cameo; not the usual soaring guitar lines but a harmonica part that he oft favours.
With a crew of special guests onboard, the Gabrielsque tones of Tony Patterson and John Greenwood’s assorted guitars, in particular the nylon passage, stand out on Blood Money alongside Nick’s own fluid piano work. Rich string tones on At Sea At Night provide the soundtrack for the groaning timbers and darkness, while the string middle section seems a forewarning of ominous intent whilst another elegant piano part brings the piece to a close.
The instrumental Four Winds offers the big orchestral production piece of the album. It’s a most dramatic (and genuinely cinematic) episode, complete with massed voices that might be more suited to The Omen. Changing moods by switching briefly into ambient and then a symphonic classical passage that swells to a crescendo as a finale, it’s a masterful piece of arrangement. It paves the way for our protagonist to arrive on the island where hope is showcased in an uptempo and brassy arrangement. Sounds like Jon Anderson on the vocal part to accompany the blasts of brass and the hint of funk to give a musical picture of the narrative. The Shamanistic chants come courtesy of Clara Sorace – perhaps a hint that all is not as anticipated; a darker underbelly.
A hint of musical theatricality is added to the chorus to Black And Scarlet (love the rhyme with ‘pirate and harlot’) before the finale of To Whom It May Concern. For the record, the most Hackett-like section, or at least the part where the Magnus/Hackett partnership f forty years ago is most prevalent. Gentle and peaceful; harmonies and distant woodwind move slowly into a passage where a dominant solo guitar shares the limelight with more woodwind.
A lovely piece of work that shows Nick Magnus at his storytelling and compositional best.
