Peter Hammill
Over

THE REVIEW

The quintessential painful event, the end of a relationship; the quintessential painful voice, that of Peter Hammill; the artist, composer par excellence, still Peter Hammill. If it is true - and trust me, it is true - that the context (emotional, cultural, etc.) affects the quality of an album, then this Over was a masterpiece even before it was materially an album. After all, a great album (like a great book, a great film, a great painting) is born if there is something to express, to narrate, to pour into notes, words, gestures, images.

The beginning is vehement and aggressive with the Godbluffish "Cryin' Wolf." Nostalgia, suffering arises in tracks like "Autumn," tracks that, in my opinion, are the most beautiful of the work; a bit like in the previous album, where I prefer the beautiful classical ballads over the very innovative aggressive and pre-punk pieces. But let's close our parenthesis on Nadir and return to this: Time Heals is a long, very "variable" piece that, even in the boldest moments, denotes an underlying discomfort. A bit like those movies where tragedy arrives right after the moment of greatest joy and carefreeness, to use a (rather ugly) metaphor to understand each other. But the masterpieces within the masterpiece are the intensely orchestral "This Side Of The Looking Glass" and the long "Lost And Found." Beautiful, also very intense is Betrayed, in a triumph of strings, an instrument for which I admit I've always had a soft spot.

Over is the ultimate expression of the Manchester artist, Over is a record that has always existed (how many works exist on the theme?) that was just waiting to find the right artist to crystallize it in the best form in which it could be conceived, and that is Peter Hammill, as few are skilled with human torment and feelings (and here he taught with the generator, see "H to He Who Am The Only One" and "Pawn Hearts") as well as - naturally - a composer, musician, first-rate singer, Author of many other masterpieces both before and after. 

An observation: the cover is, in my opinion, wonderful. Our Peter stands out on a melancholic window, overlooking a melancholic and cold landscape, alone with his guitar, his only remaining companion and right hand, the instrument of his art, the palette with which he has painted his masterpiece. This review, which incidentally tries, but miserably fails, to pay homage to the album, is at most a less direct but (I hope) more incisive way to say to you, dear DeBaserian and non-DeBaserian readers: listen to it, please.

Dedicated to Hjhhjij, never too oppressive in urging me to listen to this great artist (since I enjoy involving dear users like me, in reviews)