Howard Jones
In the Running

Few people remember Howard Jones, one of the finest figures of the synth pop era in the eighties. This singer-songwriter and keyboard player comes from New Hampshire, a British province overlooking the Channel opposite the legendary Isle of Wight, but he has the distinct, sharp and fair face of a true Welshman.

Having been a classical piano student at the Conservatory and dropping out just a step away from graduation, he is certainly not a mere plunker of those powerful electronic music generators, but rather a thoroughly educated musician. When the age of synthetic sounds passed, he had no trouble reinventing himself as a pianist and multi-instrumentalist, with a regular backing band, though always staying within the realm of pop and catchy tunes.

In this 1992 work, synthesizers are still present, but arranged in the mix alongside traditional instruments, with the piano taking center stage. After all, Howard was already composing at the piano back in the days of his multi-sequencers and keyboard castles, when he performed solo, playing and singing everything himself, aided only by technology.

The song that gives the album its title and opens it is a pop rhythm & blues tune with (fake but convincing) horns, in your face. “Fallin’ Away”, which follows immediately, is instead a delightful piano ballad in true Bruce Hornsby style. “Show Me” then holds a groove a’la Peter Gabriel, although Howard’s voice is by no means raspy or tormented.

“The Voices are Black” tells the story of someone suffering from mental disorders; it is melancholic, but also ethereal, swaying on the breaks of the piano, and it’s just beautiful. In contrast, the rock blues “Exodus” is less inspired but flawless, exactly like “Tears to Tell”.

There’s an unmistakable '80s aftertaste in “Two Souls”, which recalls the style and grooves of his early albums (this is his fifth). The following “Gun Turned on the World” swaggers along with its melodic rock, elevated by the excellent guitar of Steve Farris of Mr. Mister, another criminally underrated group who vanished from the scene, perhaps to leave room for some nobodies.

“One Last Try” is contemplative, it almost feels like walking through an autumnal forest of yellow, red, green, and purple. Jones blends electric and acoustic pianos and sings in a faint voice; paving the way for the ambitious closing “City Song”: over seven minutes, thanks to its atmospheric intro, with the vocal arriving only after almost two minutes, followed by a serene piano solo. The melody of the verses is “long”, with his typical flights into falsetto, while the choruses are more traditional.

Howard Jones is the real deal, and this is one of his best albums.