Graham Parker
Struck by Lightning

To write or not to write; to write or not to write.

Here we go again; for days, or rather for weeks, I have been plagued by my usual doubts. When I have to write and talk about such important characters who have illuminated my listening for decades, I find myself in great difficulty. Records like the one I'm about to tell you about, which I know by heart... and yet I get stuck. And getting unstuck is not so easy.

Then, paraphrasing the title of the album by the former gas station attendant from the land of Albion, it was a comment from imasoulman on a very recent listen of mine to Graham that gave me the necessary jolt to get moving. The good ima used the word heart; a single, unique, and very simple word that perfectly suits the over forty-year career of the English singer-songwriter. Heart and soul; soul and heart. The guy from Turin, how envious I am, even managed to see him live and is sure that during a rendition of "Cupid" (there's no need to name the author of such a masterpiece), Graham almost came to tears. Moreover, even a certain Springsteen has always praised our Parker's live performances; and the Boss, when it comes to concerts, I believe is second to none.

"Struck by Lightning" is a 1991 album; the most American and roots work Graham has recorded so far, often sunny, rich in acoustic guitars. Recorded in the calm of a New York studio; produced by the author himself. He's accompanied by a few trusted musician friends, and the result is very close to the masterpieces of the first part of his career.

Graham has always been a loser; an angry, proletarian rocker. A bard of everyday backstreets. But here everything is different; he's going through a very happy moment in his life, and the cover image already shows it. I own the very first vinyl version of the work (purchased in that place of devotion that for so long was "Carù Dischi" in Gallarate) which contains a bonus EP with an additional five tracks. Enough to inflate the album's duration to well over an hour.

It's Graham's voice, so warm and overflowing with soul, that takes on the leading role in the eighteen songs; all of fine quality. The comparisons that can be drawn from a careful listen are impressive. It starts off greatly with the Dylan-esque "She Wants So Many Things" which gives way to the rock fluidity, very similar to the best Tom Petty, of "They Murdered The Clown." The level rises again because the next "Strong Winds" is so rich in soul and sensitivity that it would not be out of place on a Sam Cooke album; the Hammond organ and violin bring the folk of "The Kid With The Butterfly Net" (thus explaining the cover image) closer to Van Morrison.

And Graham doesn't stop surprising here.

The brilliant Pop lightness of "A Brand New Book" (here we're in the territory of Lloyd Cole and his Commotions); the most direct and essentially Rock episode of "Weeping Statues," well-deserving to be part of the repertoire, especially live as I wrote just above, of Bruce Springsteen. Indeed, since we're in the same year of publication, the lively "Ten Girls Ago" could boast vocals by Michael Stipe because it sounds like a "discard" (but what an ugly word...) from Out of Time by the never-too-missed boys from Athens.

After all these Sacred Names I've mentioned, my excellent final judgment is evident.

I should have written everything...WHEN I WAS KING...

Ad Maiora.