Mark Knopfler
Shangri-La

THE REVIEW

......a date to forget........March 18, 2003 (road accident).......

That's right, the life of a highly decorated artist also holds days to forget, as it was for Mark Knopfler on that Monday, March 18, 2003, when, in the heart of London, while on his Honda, he crashed into a Fiat Punto (there wasn't an Italian driving, was there?), suffering six fractured ribs and being admitted to St. Thomas Hospital, from which he was discharged after a few hours. Concern aside for the artist's health, both management and fans sincerely worried or deliberately greedy, had to deal with the immediate cancellation of the tour supporting "The Ragpicker's Dream," which was set to begin in a few weeks. The convalescence – which prevented him for almost a month and a half from even picking up a guitar –, however, did not deter the Glasgow bruised from putting inspiration and ideas on paper that would later find a place on a subsequent record.

"Shangri-La" is the delightful result of an artist who focused his compositional energies on country, folk, and drew from the inevitable source of blues, translating moods reduced to the essential into music and austere feelings that, without even realizing it, reveal the entire spectrum of musical passions of a Knopfler who, at times, does not even fear appearing outdated. I won’t contradict myself by stating that on this album one can both identify a musical narrative whose bulwark is represented by a tender spontaneity and discern more lively and carefully electric compositional aspects.

5.15 a.m. snow laying alla round... is the line that quietly introduces the first track (5.15, precisely) of the album, where the guitar tickles the mellifluous and catchy melody of a vocal interpretation, which opens up to all instruments, in a polite yet never bland atmosphere. "Boom Like That" is a dynamic track where measured electricity drags the listener into a satisfying whirlwind of hilarity, in the name of a perfect verse-chorus combination where even the simplicity of a solo finds its rightful place, for a sardonic text dedicated to the success of the world's most famous fast-food chain, or rather its creator Ray Kroc (...ring-a-ding-ding milkshake mixers that’s my thing…and I gotta see a good thing sure enough, now or my name’s not kroc that’s kroc with a "k" like crocodile but not spelled that way, yeah...). "Sucker Row" pleasantly harks back to the past in the song's structure, where the dazzling embroidery of a brilliant six-string to the sung verses, transforms a simple song into an impeccable atmospheric ballad, providing a time leap to the incomparable (with the proper distinctions...) "Brothers In Arms" and "On Every Street" which were unsuspected precursors of certain stylistic refinements. In the same vein is "Whoop De Doo", for whose maximum listening appreciation, one simply has to close their eyes and be carried away by the magic of an atmosphere, as by the sweetness of words that instill the pleasure of savoring the simplicity of things at best (...so many little things are so much better now they were only the little things anyhow...).

In the global economy of a work like this, Knopfler could never miss the chance to remember those who left indelible marks of their existence for the benefit of others: it starts with the rhythmic expansion of the biting blues of "Song For Sonny Liston" (dedicated to the first bad boxer) that makes you regularly tap your foot the whole time, just like "Back To Tupelo" (which also recalls the King of Rock 'n' Roll in the lyrics) gives us two heartfelt and brief solos without any pretension, and with "Donegan's Gone" (a nod to the well-known Lonnie Donegan who gave so much to folk) where the appealing screech of the bottleneck slides up and down for the entire duration of the album's shortest track. To prove that the former Dire Straits leader enjoys expressing himself in those different musical territories that most reflect his natural habitat, there comes the palpable calm of folk in "All That Matters", which gives life to a spontaneous nighttime waltz, the enchanting and engaging South American rhythm variation of "Postcards From Paraguay", while the lovely title track seems to transpose to the present day, the serenity of the late '80s Springsteen-like sentiments.

In this fourth solo chapter, Knopfler wears the singer-songwriter clothes more than ever with thoughtfulness and careful balance, offering riffs perhaps veiled, yet demonstrating that skill and technicality are always present, but more in service of delicate melodies and untainted blues echoes. Most of the time it feels like listening to very personal and intimate songs, perhaps afraid of giving themselves to the broad public, but maybe this is also what amplifies their undeniable beauty.

Let it be clear, we are not in elegant Newport (the record-sessions were held in Malibu...) where more than forty years ago Dylan was accused of killing folk, of freeing himself from tradition, but in front of his polite disciple inclined to the call of his mentors (or masters).

[For the first time, the limited edition of an MK album includes a DVD, in which our explains the making of the album, how the composition process changes over the years, and also gives each band member, who has accompanied him for years, a chance to share their thoughts. Well, surely a supplement many will not want to do without, as it is unlikely – although I wish it with all my heart –, that anyone of us might have the chance to spy on how "a true studio recording protagonist" behaves with all his extensive "equipment" and to fully enjoy the execution of an unreleased gem like "Summer Of Love," which I consider a real pearl and will blissfully take you back in time].

... and a date to remember...September 28, 2004 (release of Shangri-La).

Actual rating: 3.5.