“WE COME FROM THE SUN”, THE SOUNDTRACK TO OUR POST-PANDEMIC GENESIS
An album review of “We Come From The Sun”, by Cerys Matthews & Hidden Orchestra.
Written by Felix Jones and edited by Jack Helme.
“We Come From The Sun” is an immersive album of Poetry and Music centred on the theme of genesis. Of birth. Of becoming. The album comes from the collaborative efforts of DJ and musician Cerys Matthews, her handpicked ensemble of ten poets, and the musical guile of Hidden Orchestra. The star-studded cast of poets lead the aural procession, taking turns to assume the role of the narrator. Weaving through the poetry is the intriguing musical compositions which flit between genres and moods in response to the words. Although the album consists of twelve separate tracks and ten poets, the common theme of genesis and the music that stitches them together forms a body of work best listened to in one sitting. As is the case with all great albums.
The uniting of word and sound heard in the collaboration is reminiscent of the rich tradition of Dub Poetry in the UK, which pioneered a style that put poetry and the message carried by the words at the forefront, with the music playing a (crucial) supporting role. Talking about the process of composing the music for MA.MOYO’s Flame Lily, Matthews explains, “we just went where the poem led us” – As the words tell a story of the “stifled” yet inexorable women involved in the narrators life, Hidden Orchestra respond with a thunderous overdriven bass synth to complete the characterisation.
Following the powerful feminine storytelling of Flame Lily, comes the contrasting and delicate imagery of Happy Birthday Moon, by Raymond Antrobus. The poem paints a picture of an intimate moment between a father and his deaf son, in an uncommonly portrayed scene of masculine fragility and tenderness, as they read to the moon and make light of mistakes. Hidden Orchestra responds by switching out the potent bassline and brutal broken drum pattern from track one, for a twinkling piano melody, creating a lullaby soundscape that perfectly cushions the warm and humorous poetry of Antrobus.
“the words tell a story of the ‘stifled’ yet inexorable women involved in the narrators life”
The contrast between the first two tracks sets the precedent for an album that toys with the idea of genesis from ever-regenerative angles. Lemn Sissay’s delivery is imbued with Professor Brian Cox-esque wonder as he shows us the earth from afar in Adventure Flight, Anthony Anaxagorou reveals snippets of day-to-day life in a hypnotic metre that ebbs and flows in Once I Had an Acceptance Speech, and Liz Berry pays sweet homage to her city whilst unveiling the greyscale scene of Birmingham in Birmingham Roller. All the while, Hidden Orchestra responds to the different voices and styles, as they deliver in turn, by deftly employing elements of Jazz, Classical, and Ambient music.
There is no obvious highlight in the album, as each track has its moment, but upon listening to Kayo Chingonyi’s Loch Long by Ardgartan, Argyll I felt like I was hearing something necessary for the contemporary situation (Covid-19 and lockdown life, of course.) The words conjure hope through metaphor (“the light of morning is the breadth of a lover’s gaze”) and ties human life to the natural world with grace. The poem nestles into an ambient soundtrack of flowing water and birdsong to provide meditative respite for the listener. Whilst we all miss friends and family, the poem aptly leaves us with a gently assuring statement: “I’ll meet you.”
Put simply, for those who enjoy their poetry read aloud, and like their music to be in genre denial, the album is an essential. More broadly, as we all endeavour to clamber from the cesspit of a festering pandemic with renewed hope, in a collective genesis of sorts, this album has come at the perfect time for everyone.
