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Fish: A Feast of Consequences

 A l b u m   D e t a i l s


Label: Chocolate Frog Record Company
Released: 2013.09.04
Time:
 66:56
Category: Progressive Rock
Producer(s): Calum Malcolm
Rating:
Media type: CD
Web address: www.fishheadsclub.com
Appears with: Marillion
Purchase date: 2015
Price in €: 1,00





 S o n g s ,   T r a c k s


[1] Perfume River (Dick/Vantsis) - 10:58
[2] All Loved Up (Dick/Vantsis/Boult) - 5:07
[3] Blind to the Beautiful (Dick/Vantsis/Boult) - 5:12
[4] A Feast of Consequences (Dick/Vantsis/Boult) - 4:29
[5] High Wood Suite: [I] High Wood (Dick/Paterson) - 5:26
[6] High Wood Suite: [II] Crucifix Corner (Dick/Paterson) - 7:25
[7] High Wood Suite: [III] The Gathering (Dick/Paterson) - 4:30
[8] High Wood Suite: [IV] Thistle Alley (Dick/Vantsis/Boult) - 6:08
[9] High Wood Suite: [V] The Leaving (Dick/Paterson/Boult) - 4:59
[10] The Other Side of Me (Dick/Vantsis/Boult) - 6:08
[11] The Great Unravelling (Dick/Vantsis/Boult) - 6:31

 A r t i s t s ,   P e r s o n n e l


Fish (Derek W. Dick) – Lead Vocals, Lyrics, Additional Photography

Robin Boult – Guitars
Steve Vantsis – Bass Guitar, Pre Production on [1,2,4,5,8,10,11]
Foss Paterson – Keyboards, Pre Production on [5-7,9]
Gavin Griffiths – Drums
Elisabeth Troy Antwi – Backing Vocals

Aidan O'Rourke - Violin on [3,10]
Finlay Hetherington - Flugelhorn
Fiona Lund - Trombone on [7]
John Sampson - Trumpet on [7]
Stuart Watson - Tuba on [7]
Tanja Derwahl - Cello on [5,9,11]
Linda Slakhorst-Custers - Viola on [5,9,11]
Gosia Loboda - First Violin on [5,9,11]
Alina-Lin Merx-Jong - Second Violin on [5,9,11]

Calum Malcolm - Engineer, Recording, Arrangements, Mixing, Producer, Mastering
Egbert Derix - Strings Arrangements on [5,9,11]
Arno Op Den Camp - Strings Recording on [5,9,11]
Mark Wilkinson - Design, Illustration, Photography
Julie Wilkinson - Illustration, Photography
Juergen Spachmann - Main Photo Portrait Of Fish

 C o m m e n t s ,   N o t e s


This album is dedicated to my mother and father,
Robert and Isabella Dick, to my grandfathers, William Dick
and William Paterson and to all those fallen, missing and
wounded in the Great War 1914 - 1918

Lest We Forget



Back in the Eighties fans of Fish (of Marillion) considered his groovy wordbending to be art. Others begged to differ. Lloyd Cole and Atzec Camera-types would rubbish him as a slightly preposterous merchant of sixth-form poetry. Perhaps both had a point. Mk 1 Marillion certainly could be pretentious, but they also, undeniably, had some killer lines. "On promenades where drunks propose/ to lonely arcade mannequins" is, for me, a suburban evocation worthy of Richard Thompson.

A Feast of Consequences - finally on general release – is Fish’s 10th post-Marillion studio album. On forums and fansites it’s been heralded as his best since Vigil in a Wilderness of Mirrors – his solo debut. But aren’t the faithful habitually guilty of wishful thinking? Divorced of partisan emotion, might this new one, then, really have the lyrical nimbleness of “State of Mind”, or tunes as punchy as “Big Wedge”?

The answer is a small yes and a big no. “All Loved Up” and “Blind to the Beautiful” are (relatively) short, snappy and to the point. The former is a jaunty rocker and the other a ballad with real emotional pull. It covers fairly well-trodden ground about climate change in a satisfyingly direct manner interwoven with Fish's own personal regret. The lyrics to “All Loved Up”, though, take straightforward writing to a ludicrous level. “I come to life on a monitor screen, a click away I can post status updates, share my profile” sounds like it could have been written by a 14-year-old.

How you feel about the rest of the album may depend on what you make of long-format, progressive rock in general. There’s not a great deal of fun in the five-part World War One “High Wood” suite, but then there isn’t meant to be. Those without an enthusiastic interest in old-fashioned prog will quite possibly find much of it as dull as it is worthy and complex. And so, despite the accessible flourishes dotted around this album, Fish continues, mainly, to be a niche product.

Russ Coffey, 24 April 2014
© 2009-2014 The Arts Desk



A Feast of Consequences is an album by Fish. It is his tenth solo studio album since he left Marillion in 1988 and the first since 13th Star (2008). It was released on Fish's own imprint Chocolate Frog Record Company.

Wikipedia.org



It's been six years since '13th Star' first appeared. For a while another Fish album seemed in some doubt due to him requiring two operations on cysts on his vocal chords. There followed yet more domestic upheaval from a short-lived second marriage.

He regained confidence in his voice through extensive touring of an acoustic set in 2010/11 and finally, in 2012,he was ready to start work on 'A Feast of Consequences'. Important at an early stage was the return to the fold of '13th Star's' principal writing partner and bass player Steve Vantsis who had left the touring band in 2008, and here he co-writes seven of the eleven tracks, together with input from returning guitarist Robin Boult . Keyboard player Foss Paterson co-writes the other four tracks , Gavin Griffiths stays on the drumkit and Calum Malcolm produces again.

Given the near-complete continuity in personnel from the last album the unsuspecting listener might be surprised to find that this work is quite different- gone are the snarling guitars of tracks like 'Circle Line & 'Square Go'. In its place come songs intentionally built up from an acoustic base, with a rich, warm production from Malcolm. The subject matter has changed too- conscious of not wanting to get bogged down with another album about relationships Fish here covers a myriad of both introspective and observational subjects. Different too is Fish's voice, which has a clarity within its current range that is quite remarkable given the troubles he's had.

Before going through the songs though ,the other major component to this project is the artwork, especially in the 100-bage book which comes as part of the deluxe package. This time both Mark and Julie Wilkinson have produced the artwork, and a quite stunning collection it is too. Mark has done a major illustration for almost all the songs, any one of which would grace a gatefold sleeve. For any fan of Fish and of Mark's artwork the deluxe package is well worth the extra cost.

So to the music. First up is 'Perfume River'. It starts with haunting sampled bagpipes, then Fish sets off on an atmospheric journey along the Vietnamese river, lost in personal reflection " a discarded fading flower on the soporific sensual Perfume River " as he describes it. After almost 6 minutes his anger finally breaks through in a burst of guitar which subsides before the song takes off in a totally different direction, driven by acoustic guitar. Here, Fish has had the wake-up at what surrounds him in the still war-scarred country and he reels off the observations. All-in the track runs to almost 11 minutes and is a very strong opener and ,for me, one of the best tracks he's done.

Next comes 'All Loved Up', a bouncing pacy pop-rocker taking a sideswipe at today's 'get famous quick' culture ,it's almost to this album what 'Incommunicado' was to 'Clutching at Straws'. It's quite good but I prefer to play it later in the album rather than second track, as the album is at this point still taking its form and this track is different to the rest of the mood.

'Blind to the Beautiful' is an aching ballad looking partly at climate change. It's acoustic , with a violin joining the guitar and piano as Fish sings "hurricanes with children's names write our history".

The title track sees Fish address a failed relationship in a great rock track with more fine lyrics "I tear a page from the book of faces, throw your letters in an open fire" he starts. He goes on to draw parallels between the crumbling relationship and the world running out of resources.

Then comes the 'High Wood ' suite of five songs, almost half-an-hour in total. It follows a trip Fish made to the cemetery at the 'High Wood' in 2011 , scene of one of the most horrific prolonged battles in WW1, and where his grandfathers served. The words throughout this suite are emotional, at times graphic but, most importantly, respectful to the subject matter . The music features strings ('High Wood' / 'Leaving') a brass band ('Gathering') and a wall of guitars ('Thistle Alley'). It is bold and a remarkable piece of work covering a current-day visit to the site (High Wood), the initial cavalry charge ('Crucifix Corner'), the recruitment of the so- called 'Pals' battalions (Gathering) , the horror of the trench warfare as the battle stagnated ('Thistle Alley') and closes with a reflection on the devastation ('The Leaving'). Paterson co-wrote four of the songs here, with Vantsis adding the heavy 'Thistle Alley'. This suite is why for methis album is elevated to a 5* album, a reflection the work that has gone into crafting a genuinely significant body of songs.

After 'High Wood' the album might be expected to drop off but there is the introspective, emotional 'Other Side of Me', where Fish rediscovers himself after coming out a relationship. An organ note of optimism rides a wave of sunshine after a lovely understated guitar solo. Backing vocals throughout the album come from Elizabeth Antwi ( worked with Fish on 'Raingods album) and she really shines both here and on the closer, the complex 'Great Unravelling' , which features another fine guitar solo while Fish delivers a lyric looking at the threads of life .

I come at this review admittedly as a big fan of the work of Fish and am conscious that I also gave the last album 5 stars (which I also stand by) . 'Feast' benefits from repeated listening, revealing itself in layers, but the way this album has been crafted with such intelligent lyrics leaves me convinced that this work will stand as one of Fish's very finest efforts. If you like your music challenging and thought-provoking take the time to fully appreciate this.

ProgArchives.com



'One of the most remarkably powerful pieces of music to be released under Fish's name. A Feast of Consequences will be hailed as one of 2013's most essential prog releases.'

Classic Rock Presents PROG Magazine



'Pessimistic and furious, the big man skewers celebrity culture, rues the state of the environment and looks back on relationships. But these are just warm-ups for the centrepiece, an epic suite tackling war and death. It's good to have him back.'

Classic Rock Magazine



'With what is possibly the most dense and intense lyrical work of his solo career, Fish has delivered an absolute triumph. You can buy with confidence — this is his best since Sunsets On Empire back in the 90's. Fish is back on the menu!'

Classic Rock Society



Bis heute gehört "Vigil In A Wilderness Of Mirrors", das erste Solo-Album des ehemaligen Marillion-Sängers Fish, zu meinen geheimen Lieblingsplatten. Um so erschütterter zeigte ich mich ein Jahr später vom halbgaren "Internal Exile". Der Schock, den diese unausgegorene Tat hinterließ, hallte über Jahre nach. Es folgte eine qualitative Berg- und Talfahrt. Nachdem den schottischen Musiker zuletzt auch noch seine Stimme verließ, hofften nur noch heillose Optimisten auf ein Aufblitzen alter Qualität. Die Akte Fish schien geschlossen.

Doch sechs Jahre nach "13th Star" folgt mit "A Feast Of Consequences" der würdige Nachfolger, der "Vigil" in den frühen 1990ern versagt blieb. Nach einer Stimm-OP fehlt zwar noch etwas das Volumen der vergangenen Tage, doch Fish weiß dies durch geschicktes Songwriting auszugleichen. Folk, Bombast und Prog-Rock prallen in komplexen, tiefgründigen und endlich wieder zielgerichteten Tracks aufeinander.

Wie es sich für einen waschechten Schotten geziemt, beginnt "Perfume River" mit entrückten Dudelsäcken. Aus Joseph MacKenzies Klagelied "Sgt. MacKenzie" entliehen, deuten sie bereits die weiterführende Thematik an. Das Hauptaugenmerk liegt auf dem Grauen des Krieges. Sich atmosphärisch über zehn Minuten langsam aber gewaltig aufbauend erzählt der epische Opener mit diversen Tempowechseln von den Schauerlichkeiten des Vietnamkriegs.

Eines der wichtigsten Puzzleteile für Fishs neu erlangte Stärke stellt Robin Boults ausgezeichnetes Gitarrenspiel dar. Der Mitte der 1990er verloren gegangene Gitarrist ersetzt den verhinderten Frank Usher. Er prägt neben Derek William Dicks Stimme den Sound der Platte. Wie auch Bassist Steve Vantsis und Keyboarder Foss Paterson zeigt er sich zudem für Teile des Songwritings mitverantwortlich.

Die über fünf Songs aufgeteilte "The High Wood"-Suite stellt das Herzstück des Longplayers dar. Fish singt darin vom berauschten Aufbruch in den ersten Weltkrieg, dem folgenden Zusammenbruch, der verzweifelten Hilflosigkeit im Angesicht des Schreckens und dem lähmenden Horror nach den Schlachten. In dreißig bildgewaltigen Minuten zieht der Schotte in einem vielschichtig verschachtelten Schauerstück sämtliche Register seines Könnens und liefert eine seiner aufwühlendsten Inszenierungen.

Wie ein Mantra bricht im stampfenden "High Wood" das sich wiederholende "The wood will rise / The wood will fall / The circle is unbroken" durch die düstere Erinnerung an vergangene Qualen der Schlacht an der Somme. In "Crucifix Corner", das die Ruhe vorm Kampf im flüsterndem Folk ausdrückt, tauchen kurzzeitig marschierende Gitarren im Stil von Pink Floyds "The Wall" auf, bis der Track unter Einsatz einer gut abgehangenen Orgel in ausuferndem Schweinerock gipfelt. "And then the darkness stole the day / Our hopes were dashed the charge was broken."

Der euphorische Klang von Trompetenfanfaren leitet den Folk-Song "The Gathering" und dessen trügerische Hoffnung ein. "The Newspaper headlines were big and bold / Our country was going to war / To fight for the freedom of nationhood (...) We took the King's shilling with pride." Doch der wahre Terror wartet mit "Thistle Alley" bereits um die Ecke. Kein Schöngerede mehr, kein Silberstreif am Horizont. Es bleibt nur noch ein Alptraum aus Krieg, Metal, Blut, Elend und Gevatter Tod.

Fishs gallenbittere Zeilen unterlegt seine Band stählern, düster und breitschultrig wie Led Zeppelin zu "Kashmir"-Zeiten. Letztendlich findet auch der Krieg mit "The Leaving" sein Ende. Doch es gibt keine Gewinner, sondern nur Verlierer. "The men returned (...) Behind their eyes they stored the horrors / Behind theirs smiles they hid their fears (...) Lest we forget."

Neben dem "The High Wood"-Epos erstrahlt die simple Anmut von "Blind To The Beautiful" um so mehr. Derek William Dick kombiniert ein Statement zur globalen Erderwärmung mit den Erinnerungen an eine verlorene Liebe. "I just can't see the beautiful any more." Dabei liegt die Schönheit direkt vor ihm, in diesem Lied, in dem ihn nur eine akustische Gitarre, ein Piano und Aidan O'Rourkes Violine begleiten.

Im finalen "The Great Unravelling" erweitert Fish mit Synthesizern und elektronischen Drumloops "A Feast Of Consequences" um eine weitere Facette. Zu malerischen Gitarren tritt Elisabeth Troy Antwi als gleichberechtigte Sängerin an seine Seite. Zum Glück bleibt der muffige Jeansjacken-Rock "All Loved Up", eine gestelzte Abrechnung mit dem virtuellen Leben, eine einmalige Ausnahme.

In der Öffentlichkeit findet das altmodische und vollkommen aus der Zeit gefallene "A Feast Of Consequences" sicher nur wenig Beachtung. Das Album erscheint im Eigenvertrieb über Fishs Webseite. Wer aber den Zeitgeist vertreiben kann, belohnt sich mit einem intensiven, ruhigen und herausfordernden Longplayer. Selbst für die Verhältnisse des Schotten beeindruckt die außergewöhnliche lyrische Qualität. Genau hier, wo andere hilflos durch ausufernde Kompositionen stolpern, scheint bei ihm trotz allen Bombasts keine Melodie und kein Wort zu viel. Die Akte Fish wird wieder geöffnet.

Sven Kabelitz - 1998-2015 © LAUT.DE



Nach "13th Star" ist es lange still gewesen um FISH, doch mit seinem neuen Album, das unter sehr widrigen Umständen (Krankheit, Ärger bei der Herstellung des physischen Produkts) entstand, klingt der Schotte, als sei er nie weggewesen, zumal sich "A Feast Of Consequences" - dieses Gefühl hat man zumindest - an seiner Schaffenszeit kurz nach dem Ausscheiden bei seiner alten Band bis zur Mitte der Neunziger orientiert und zugleich aktuell klingt.

Sicherlich handelt es sich bei FISHs Musik immer noch um progressiven Rock, doch der Barde hat sich längst freigeschwommen und einen eigenen Stil etabliert, der keinen Vergleich scheuen und keine Erwartungen erfüllen muss. So gestaltet sich der zehnminützige Einstieg unerwartet sperrig, denn nach der Sackpfeifen-Einleitung bleibt die trefflich eingespielte Band sehr lange still, um erst in den letzten drei Minuten einzusteigen, was vor dem Hintergrund der schwierigen Produktion wie ein Befreiungsschlag anmutet. Der Sänger, begleitet von der bewährten Liz Antwi, scheint wieder im vollen Saft zu stehen, und der Hörer kann sich eines freudigen Grinsens nicht erwehren - alles wieder gut!

Umso enthusiastischer geht es mit "All Loved Up" weiter, einem Uptempo-Track mit prosaischem Rock-Groove und vergleichsweise widerborstigem Außenseiter-Text, der dem flirrenden Titelstück stilistisch recht nahesteht, wobei hier wie an vielen anderen Stellen FISHs Folk-Treue ins Spiel kommt. Die Verzahnung von Akustik- und E-Gitarren stellt von jeher ein typisches Merkmal seiner Musik dar (selbst Arjen Lucassen prägte weiland "Into The Electric Castle" diesen Stempel auf) und strahlt hier umso heller, da sich der Schlacks anders als immer mal wieder während seiner Laufbahn gegen schnöden Mainstream-Kram sperrt.

Deshalb auch die lange "High Wood Suite", deren Einstieg sich als Mischung aus Geschichtenerzählen und dräuend pluckernder Epik am Puls der Zeit erweist. "Crucifix Corner" schwebt inklusive aufwühlendem Text auf Keyboard-Flächen dahin wie späte PINK FLOYD und wird mit Orgel am Ende richtig "vintage" - umso mehr noch "The Gathering", das aberwitzig mit Fanfaren an einen Königshof geleitet und herkömmlichen Neo Prog wohl von allen Stücken am nächsten steht. Dennoch: origineller Stoff gerade wegen des üppigen Trötens. "Thistle Alley" greift hinterher das polternde Moment und die natürliche Weite von LED ZEPPELINs "Kashmir" auf und findet zum vorher angedeuteten Düster-Duktus zurück, um den zunächst sachten Abschluss "The Leaving" noch intensiver zu gestalten. Solche dynamischen Brüche sind es, die für "A Feast Of Consequences" einnehmen.

Folglich hat man auch lange kein so schlüssiges Finale für einen Longtrack gehört wie hier. Flankiert wird dieses Gesellenstück von tollen Ballade, dem zeitlos (Schifferklavier, Geige) wie modern (Arrangement und Text könnten von Steven Wilson stammen) inszenierten "Blind To The Beautiful" und dem sehr klassischen Piano-Gitarren-Stück "The Other Side Of Me", das FISH als fürstlichen Singer-Songwriter ins warme Schlaglicht rückt. Danach: Loops, hypnotische Gitarren und ein nachdenklicher Text in "The Great Unravelling", der vieles bedeuten kann: Standortbestimmung ja, doch davon, dass sich der Künstler gefällig zurücklehnt, kann keine Rede sein. Deluxe-Ausgabe mit Bonus-DVD und 100seitigem, gebundenem Buch verhaften, Kopfhörer auf und den Herbst musikalisch überleben.

FAZIT: FISHs achtes Studioalbum kommt gerade richtig, da man begonnen hat, den Mann nach allzu vielen Retro-Geschichten in der jüngeren Vergangenheit als auf der Höhe der Zeit agierenden Musiker zu vermissen. "A Feast Of Consequences" ist ein "labour of love", greifbar für alle Hörer-Generationen, und seine gelungen ambitionierteste Arbeit (politische motivierte wie persönliche Texte, liebevoll ausgearbeitete Strukturen) seit langem, wobei die am Songwriting beteiligten Mitmusiker nicht in den Hintergrund gestellt werden sollten - frische Band-Scheibe statt Bandscheibenvorfall!

Andreas Schiffmann - © Musikreviews.de



Rückschläge, Ängste und Unsicherheiten - in den rund sechs Jahren zwischen dem letzten Studioalbum 13th Star und diesem hier, "A Feast Of Consequences", hat dieser Fish so einiges mitgemacht. Zwei Mal wurde er an den Stimmbändern operiert - zum Glück waren die Verwachsungen gutartig. Außerdem brachte er das private Kunststück fertig, zu heiraten und sich im selben Jahr schon wieder scheiden zu lassen. Fish musste mal dringend raus und verbrachte einige Zeit in Vietnam, Costa Rica und Kuba, wo er sich mancherlei Inspirationen abholte. Auch eine Akustiktour sorgte für neuen Mut und außerdem für die Erkenntnis, dass die Stimme wieder da war. So ist dieses nunmehr zehnte Album als Solokünstler für Fish auch eine Art ein Neustart.

Auf "A Feast Of Consequences" macht Fish zum ersten Mal seit Jahren wieder elektrisch verstärkte Musik. Und durch einen puren Zufall - sein bisheriges Bandmitglied Frank Usher war gerade in anderen Projekten stark eingebunden - gibt es auch eine 'Wiedervereinigung' mit Gitarrist Robin Boult, mit dem Fish in den ersten Jahren seiner Solokarriere zusammengearbeitet hatte. Boult wurde gleich stark am Songwriting beteiligt - ein kreativer Prozess, der gedauert hat. Studiotermine mussten verschoben werden, bis es endlich passte. Alle Songs hat die Band rein akustisch vor Publikum getestet und an ihnen rumgefeilt, bis sie zu dem wurden, was sie jetzt sind. Und wie sich das gelohnt hat!

Das Kernstück des Albums ist "High Wood", ein Fünfteiler von zusammen beinahe einer halben Stunde Spielzeit. Fish hat sich an ein schweres Thema gewagt: Es geht um den ersten Weltkrieg. Von der verklärten Aufbruchseuphorie ("The Gathering") über den Horror der Grabenkämpfe ("Thistle Alley") bis hin zum zerreißenden, stillen Schmerz, als das Sterben vorbei war ("The Leaving"), beschreiben Musik und Text die Facetten des Wahnsinns. Und wie ergreifend das gelingt!

Die ruhigen Passagen sind entweder beklemmend traurig, angespannt und leicht nervös, oder es mischen sich wie bei "Crucifix Corner" unwirkliche Klänge wie von einer entfernten Spieluhr mit ein. Fast wie in Volksfeststimmung kommentieren die Blechbläser den unbeschwerten Folk-Anklang in "The Gathering", dem Ausdruck dieser fatalen, falschen Zuversicht. Welch einen Gegensatz bieten da die bedrohlichen, stoischen Drives vorab im ersten Part, "High Wood" ... die Schwere aus Angst und Schuld und Elend ist förmlich zu spüren; es ist düster, es ist heavy und es baut sich in "Thistle Alley" zu einem mehr als eindringlichen Hörerlebnis auf.

Alle Bestandteile von "High Wood" sind in ihrer Tiefenwirkung nahezu hypnotische Erlebnisse, spätestens bei aufmerksamer Studie der Lyrics dazu. Das ist große Poesie - Fish schildert konkrete Szenarien und bringt das beinahe 100 Jahre vergangene, unfassbare Grauen im nächsten Moment auf zeitlose metaphorische Ebenen.
»A storm of fire and metal tears the wood asunder,
Shatters stumps of scorched and splintered trees,
Cowering in the mud within the roots, incessant thunder
Tormented shredded souls are torn
[...]
Dragons crawl the ridges towards the spires on new horizons
Ploughing through the charnel pits and gore,
The spawn of death's invention, a victory their burden
The promise stalls and wallows in the mire,
High above the stage, a chorus of dark angels,
a circus joins the theatre of war,
The props are in position, fuses primed and ready; the wires pulse the signal
cue the mine exploding
the graves are opening«
("Thistle Alley")

... und am Ende beten jene, die den Tag überstanden haben, dass es endlich Nacht werden möge, damit die Dunkelheit die 'Gräber der Lebenden' verberge. Das muss man erst mal sacken lassen.

Für Fish waren diese Lyrics nach eigener Aussage bisher die größte Herausforderung als Musiker. Seine Zeilen sind Eindrücke, die beim Besuch der historischen Stätte der Schlacht an der Somme entstanden sind. Es war reiner Zufall, dass er nach einem Konzert in Paris dort noch einige Zeit verbracht hatte - wie sich herausstellte nur ein paar Hundert Meter entfernt von dem Ort, wo sein eigener Großvater einst Schützengräben ausheben musste. Für Fish war das der Beginn einer eingehenden mentalen Reise, »and the attention and concentration required [...] has been both the most exhausting and gratifying writing I have ever embarked on.« Beeindruckend - und doch macht "High Wood" 'nicht einmal' die Hälfte des Albums aus ...

... dessen Einstieg bereits großen Eindruck hinterlässt. "Perfume River" baut sich minutenlang auf und steht von daher in einer Tradition zahlreicher Opener von "Vigil" bis "Field". Psychedelisch, süßlich, beklemmend und sich dann öffnend: mit einer epischen Wende nach sieben von elf Minuten. Ein pulsierender, mitreißender Drive aus akustischer und E-Gitarre. Das ist typisch Fish; und das ist ein grandioser Fish. In diesem Stück gibt er den Erinnerungen eines Mannes an den Vietnamkrieg eine Stimme: »It's no illusion; it's not a dream, My eyes are open and all is as appears, It's a perfect nightmare; it's a perfect nightmare, In an imperfect world.«

"All Loved Up" ist eine musikalische Gegenveranstaltung - flotter Rock. Eine quirlige Energie aus knarzenden Gitarren, dank Synthie-Atmos völlig zeitlos. Auch ganz typisch Fish - ein launiger Song, wie er bei ihm nicht fehlen darf. Vor dem inneren Auge kann man förmlich sehen, wie dieser Derek Dick (der menschliche, pardon, bürgerliche Name des 'Fischs') auf der Bühne vom Fisch zum Tanzbär wird. Nun schmeckt Frohsinn freilich nur mit einem guten Schuss Zynismus. "All Loved Up" blickt links und rechts entlang des schmalen Grats zwischen Real Life und Cyberspace. Es geht um sich virtuell vervielfältigende Freundschaften, um synthetische Nähe, um ein irrig-unreales Empfinden von Reichtum und Schönheit.

Fish schreibt keinen Song, ohne ihn zu denken und zu fühlen. Manche dieser Songs sind ein Musik gewordenes In-sich-gehen, wie "The Other Side Of Me". Es 'wächst', von melancholischem, tiefem, beinahe gesprochenem Gesang zu harfenartig fragilen Akustikarpeggien, Stufe um Stufe hinauf zu einem Gospel-getränkten Stück voller Kraft und Zuversicht. Die Arrangements mit Piano, Violine und Orgel geben so manches erlesene Detail preis. Vor allem aber sorgt Elisabeth Troy Antwis einfühlsamer Backgroundgesang (nicht nur bei diesem Stück) für einen großen Zauber.

Und wenn Fish nicht gerade kontemplativ und selbstsezierend das eigene Ich unter die Lupe nimmt, dann blickt er auf die ganz reale, menschliche Dummheit in der weiten Welt. Klimawandel und Umweltzerstörung sind seine Themen im zarten, introvertierten "Blind To The Beautiful". Ebenso bei "A Feast Of Consequences". Extrovertiert! Kantig, rockig und straight geht der Titeltrack mit Nachdruck und Eindruck ins Ohr. Hier isser: der Song des Albums, der das Zeug zum mitwippend machendenden Live-Favoriten hat.
»We were running out of World, running out of hope, running out of resources
We were running out of time, running out of space, running out of tomorrows
If we only knew then what we know now would we have changed our minds,
it was all about time we faced the feast of consequences«

Und somit wird ein Album rund, das sich ohne Bedenkzeit zu den besten in Fishs Solokarriere zählen lässt. Wesentlich 'ursprünglicher' wirkt es als (das ebenfalls großartige) "13th Star" und hätte über weite Strecken auch vor 20 Jahren entstanden sein können. Lediglich der Schlusstrack "The Great Unravelling" stellt Loops und Effekte in den Vordergrund (Und wieder eine Facette mehr!). Fehlt da noch irgendetwas auf "A Feast Of Consequences"? Vielleicht ein großes Melodiewunder wie "A Gentleman's Excuse Me", "Moving Targets" oder "Arc Of The Curve"? Dafür steckt "A Feast Of Consequences" voller kleiner Wunder und imponiert als das Fish-Album mit dem meisten Tiefgang und einer - selbst für Fishs Verhältnisse - außergewöhnlich wertvollen poetischen Seite, vor allem dank "High Wood".
»In the gnawing bite of winter; he winds, bone chilling, howl
Pale skies of swirling snowflakes lay a shroud upon the ground
To a scarred and shattered landscape some brief dignity is shown
Where the dead remain unburied on the dark and blood-stained earth«
("The Leaving")

Boris Theobald, 24.11.2013
RockTimes.de
  

 L y r i c s


PERFUME RIVER

There were no sirens, I heard no alarms
This situation has somehow got completely out of hand
It’s no illusion, it’s not a dream
My eyes are open and all is as appears
It’s a perfect nightmare
It’s a perfect nightmare
In an imperfect world

I missed the wake up, slept through the dawn
The world’s a stage but I’ve declared these curtains drawn
Behind the fourth wall, behind the scenes
A discarded fading flower on the soporific, sensual Perfume River
The perfect nightmare
Escape the perfect nightmare
Dream the perfect world

I close my mind in soft surrender
In quiet resignation take the lies
I lock the door, I lock the door
I junk the mail, I never open letters
Programme numbers that I know I’ll never call
Collect addresses of friends who’ll soon be strangers
Message pending, I know just what it says
Should I accept another lie?
I swallow all the lies
I live the lie.

There are places that I know that I will never see
Some I wish I’d never seen before
The horror stalks my vision and the cries ring in my ears
I am helpless, I am not brave, I am alone
I wander the dark alleys of the citadel
Deserted shops and empty houses mark my way
Bullet holes in stuccoed walls are testimony
To the voices disappeared within the fear

Take me away to the Perfume River
Carry me down to the Perfume River
Set me adrift on a well-stocked open boat
Show me the way down to the Perfume River
Send me away down the Perfume River
Pour that sweet, sweet liquor down my throat

Fire breathing dragons swarm in sweltering skies
Spewing flame on innocents below
Charred and brittle corpses, blackened evidence
I am enraged, I am afraid, I am forlorn
The ashes from wise pages fly from libraries
Tumble in the clouds of smoke and flies
To lie as dust in corners of dark palaces
The fetid smell of revolution haunts the air

Take me away to the Perfume River
Carry me down to the Perfume River
Set me adrift on a well-stocked open boat
Show me the way to the Perfume River
Send me away down the Perfume River
Pour that sweet, sweet liquor down my throat
Pour it down my throat

Carry me down to the Perfume River
Hold me down in the Perfume River
Where I’ll drown my sorrows and I’ll die in hope
Push me away down the Perfume River
To the swirls and eddies of the Perfume River
In these dark and muddied waters just let me float
The truth I don’t want to know


ALL LOVED UP

I come to life on a monitor screen, a click away I can post status updates, share my profile,
Check out my photos they’re not really me, they’re of some actor I have to be someone different just so you’ll like me, because I’m not special, but I know that I could be

I’m at auditions, the end of the queue, don’t need to tell me I know what to do to impress them, I’ll wear my best smile
Humiliation, I don’t really care, I’ll be outrageous, I’ll be the king of the freak show, to get the exposure; I’ll do whatever it takes to sign the contract.

To join the world of wall to wall celebrities, I get the feeling I already know
One day I’m sure they’re going to be my real friends
And I’ll be rubbing shoulders with the in-crowd because that’s where I belong
With the beautiful people, the dazzling people, well-heeled people, well-dressed people, all loved up, all loved up

Don’t need no money I got credit cards, a deck of plastic I ride to the max, till meltdown, then I got parents
Because they owe they can never refuse, I don’t feel guilty they shouldn’t really have had me, it’s all their fault, I got nothing, I really do deserve more

In my world of wall to wall celebrities, I get the feeling I already know
One day I’m sure they’re going to be my real friends
And I’ll be rubbing shoulders with the in-crowd because that’s where I belong
All loved up, all loved, up, all loved up

All I need is a lottery win
My lucky numbers sure to come in
Then I’m sorted, I got no more worries
I believe in my own destiny, I just know one day I’m going to be famous, I deserve it, because I’m so special, I love me

In my world of wall to wall celebrities
I get the feeling I already know
One day I’m sure they’re going to be my real friends
And I’ll be rubbing shoulders with the in-crowd because that’s where I belong
With the beautiful people, the dazzling people, well-heeled people, well-dressed people
All loved up, all loved up, all loved up, all fucked up


BLIND TO THE BEAUTIFUL

There are no pictures accompanying this
Blind to the Beautiful
The stars are fading, ashes to ashes and dust to dust,
The bread we have broken, the wine we drank from tarnished cups,
And I stopped believing in miracles a long long time ago,
I lost my faith and I sacrificed my soul,
I worshipped fallen idols, chased false prophets to an end,
To where I just can’t see the beautiful anymore

The ice retreating, mountains exposed in the sun,
The earth is baking, raindrops precede the floods
And hurricanes with children’s names write our history
Signatures tracked by satellites on high,
We should have talked about the weather a bit more seriously,
More than stocks and shares and corporate wares,
We were blinded by the sceptics and their greed
I just can’t see the beautiful anymore; I just can’t see the beautiful anymore

I howled and I cried when the melody died, the song was finally over,
There was nothing to say, words stole away, their meaning lost in the ether,
What there was left stopped making sense, a broken up alphabet, language dispersed
I just can’t hear the beautiful anymore

The oceans are rising, islands in time disappear,
The canyons burning, forests consumed by the flames,
Wildfires rage across the plains to be starved by barren soil,
Deserted farms where seeds refuse to grow,
I close my eyes to cloudless skies I dream of what we had before,
I just can’t see the beautiful anymore
I just can’t see the beautiful anymore
Show me the beautiful; bring back the beautiful, show me the beautiful
I want to see the beautiful once more


A FEAST OF CONSEQUENCES

I tear a page from the book of faces,
Throw your letters in an open fire,
I couldn’t say that I still despise you
But I’m finding it hard to not to
After all that was said not done it’s time this thing was over
Did I want you to change your mind I don’t honestly think so
Picking me up like a lovesick puppet
You were dancing me over a burning flame
You kept pulling the strings the few strands remaining
You just wouldn’t let me go

We were running out of words, running out of lines, running out of things to say
We were running out of heart, running out of love, running out of reasons to stay

There was something so deeply flawed
In the beginning we tried to deny it
Like a crack in a china doll,
A masquerade in silence,
Where we try to recognise just who exactly we’re trying to hide
We played our roles in this grand design
Fooled ourselves in our own disguises

We were running out of pills, running out of smoke, running out of fine white wines,
We were running out of road, running out of fuel, running out of places to hide,
It’s a feast of consequences
Facing up to a feast of consequences
Bearing down on a feast of consequences
It looks like we’re dining alone

(GTR)

Table for one for a word drunk poet,
Losing my mind in a dancing flame,
It kept pulling the strings the few strands remaining
It just wouldn’t let me go
We were running out of World, running out of hope, running out of resources
We were running out of time, running out of space, running out of tomorrows
If we only knew then what we know now would we have changed our minds, it was all about time we faced the feast of consequences

Can’t walk away from this feast of consequences,
Can’t ignore this feast of consequences


HIGH WOOD

Chill, break of day
A light frost thawing
Sun, pale and grey
A spectral morning

Tractors crawl, horsepower straining
Carve the earth, the ploughshares turning
The sod that hides where dead men lie
The lost and fallen of wars gone by
Gathering the iron harvest
Reminders of their bloody madness
Whose bones in furrows sometimes rise
To plead to be identified

To join the ranks of comrade soldiers
Buried beneath the bleached, white crosses
Names and numbers cut in stone
The regiment they called their home
The age they reached, the day they died
Their memory is all that does survive
In tended graves they rest in peace
Their battle finally over

The rolling, trembling thunder
Rides the ridge of Bazentin
Detonations scatter clouds of crows
The tree line offers refuge
To the wide-eyed, startled deer
Launch, plunging through the bracken
They head into the shadows
Of the High Wood

The oaks majestic, standing proud and tall
Holding their position on a landscape lost in time
The roots dug in the sore contested ground
The gnarled and twisted timbers betray the battle scars of yore

The wood will rise, the wood will fall, the circle is unbroken
The wounds will heal in rings of time, the circle is unbroken

Half buried in the forest floor decay
Broken, rusting weaponry beneath the fallen leaves
The shells that failed still hold their deadly load
Dormant in the undergrowth, their promise only stalled

The wood will rise, the wood will fall, the circle is unbroken
The wounds will heal in rings of time, the circle is unbroken
The wood will rise, the wood will fall, the circle is unbroken
The wounds will heal in rings of time, the circle is unbroken

In the darkness of the High Wood
It’s so dense I can hardly breathe
A stark and muffled silence
I stand alone amongst the trees
Are they ghosts or moving shadows?
Are they spirits gone before?
Are these the restless souls still wandering
The ones that were forsaken
In the High Wood?


CRUCIFIX CORNER

In the cornfields speckled poppies glow
In a twilight, moving shadows
From the High Wood the reaper walks
A harvest to be gathered
The skylark's solo fateful cry
The hares alert now scattered
The pheasant raised by beating drums
In a field prepared for battle

The orders raised at crack of dawn
The regiment made ready
Then stood the day beneath a sun
Impatient for their calling
And now's the time and now's the hour
And now's the chance for glory
The clarion call, the bugles sent
The lancers from Crucifix Corner

The melody of pounding hooves
Their harnesses a jangling
And up the line the squadrons move
A dark parade assembling
Light horse crossing heavy ground
Trembling trepidation
The steaming flanks, the nervous hearts
Require no more motivation

They thread their way cross valley floors
Through shell holes and the fallen
Impending threats their sabres drawn
Fleeting prayers by Crucifix Corner
Where spent men rise and the wounded cheer
At the sight of their salvation
The hopes and prayers for the breakthrough promised
This conflict will soon be over

Leaping hedges, rusting broken wire
Through a maze of desperate trenches
All around the world explodes
As the barrage gains momentum

Shells gouge dark the golden fields
Fresh graves are formed in craters
The shrapnel's jagged deadly thorns
Tear troopers from their chargers
Through this wall of smoke and flame
This lethal iron curtain
To gain the slope, the woods beyond
Where hunting will be certain

I've seen you through these bloody days
And I'll see you through another
I promise you we will meet again
In the shade of Crucifix Corner

Like game that's flushed from standing corn
Exposed now in the open
Driven on a tide of fear
Outrun, the ranks are broken
Some are stuck with piercing lance
Others slashed by sabre
A primal fear engulfs
This ancient terror, chill surrender

And now's the time and now's the hour
And now's the chance for glory
We'll carry the field and the ridge beyond
And break these lines before us
We'll charge into the open ground
To the valleys barely yonder
They'll remember when we took the day
When we passed through Crucifix Corner

And then the darkness stole the day
Our hopes were dashed, the charge was broken
Those who survived returned to Crucifix Corner
Crucifix Corner
Crucifix Corner
Crucifix Corner

In the cornfields ripening corpses sweet
In a sunrise moving shadows
From the High Wood the reaper walked
To a harvest duly gathered
The skylark's solo mournful cry
Above spirits torn and tattered
In a new dawn the whistle blows
On a field prepared for battle


THE GATHERING

The newspaper headlines were big and bold
Our country was going to war
To fight for the freedom of nationhood
To defend us from invading hordes
The general pointed with steely glare
Delivered the rallying call
We signed off our lives with the stroke of a pen
Joined our pals in the line
We took the King's shilling with pride

From the towns and the cities we came
From the fields and the countryside, the mines and the factories
Volunteers on the square
Labourers and unemployed, clerks and delivery boys
Skirling pipes charge the air
Raising the cheering crowd, casting out any doubts
Victory will soon be assured
We know God's on our side at the heart of the gathering

Farewell to our homes and our families
Farewell to the lives we once knew
Farewell to our youth and our innocence
We marched off with the band to the promise of a brave new world

And I'll write you a letter each passing day
And I'll cherish your every reply
I'll tie them with ribbons and Flanders lace
Hold them close to my heart in a sweet embrace

Tell the children that I shall return
Laden with medals and dripping with garlands
We'll sit by the banks of the Tyne
And I'll regale you with stories of honour and glory
We'll make up for all the lost time
Jig to the fiddles and weave the White Willow
In the evening like ferns we'll entwine
Our bodies surrender, we give to the gathering

I'll long for my home and my family
I will long for my life I once knew
I'll long for my youth and my innocence
I'll long for a brave new world

In the holds of the ships out of training camps
From the railheads to trudge open roads
Shouldered rifles on heavy souls
Our fears will add to our load

Farewell to our homes and our families
Farewell to the lives we once knew
Farewell to our youth and our innocence
We marched off with the band, pals in battalions, to the promise of a brave new world
Joining the gathering, pals in battalions, to fight for a brave new world
Pals in battalions, we took the King's shilling, and paid for a brave new world


THISTLE ALLEY

Rockets are flying
Signal distress over no man’s land
With hopes they are fading
Splutter and die in a leaden sky
The wounded resignation, the corpses on the wire
A frozen tableaux flickers in the light

Flares are falling
Chasing the shadows, nervous eyes
Huddled in silence
Hugging the earth, biding time
Motionless as spiders caught out on a killing floor
Muffled picks and shovels hold their still
Praying for the darkness to return and hide
The graves they are opening
The graves they are digging

A storm of fire and metal tears the wood asunder
Shatters stumps of scorched and splintered trees
Cowering in the mud within the roots, incessant thunder
Tormented shredded souls are torn apart

Deep beneath the surface the chalk yields to the chisels
Bloodied fingers tear the face away
Hollowing the chambers along the dark Stygian tunnels
Hooded candles light the spectres' way

Dragons crawl the ridges towards the spires on new horizons
Ploughing through the charnel pits and gore
The spawn of death’s invention, a victory their burden
The promise stalls and wallows in the mire

High above the stage, a chorus of dark angels
A circus joins the theatre of war
The props are in position, the fuses primed and ready
The wires pulse the signal cue the mine exploding
The graves are opening

The dead they are rising
Fear-haunted faces, gaunt and grey
Ghosts are gathering
The Dance Macabre, the hellish fray

Heaven above, Thistle Alley below

Whistles are blowing
The maxims are waiting

To carve the flesh, shatter skulls and crush the bone
Guns stuttering, relentless rake the lines
The gas that whispers in the confines of the trenches
To choke the life of those who dare to hide

Heaven above, Thistle Alley below
Heaven above, Thistle Alley below

Motionless survivors, bloody on the killing floor
Praying for the darkness to return
Praying for the darkness to return
And hide the graves of the living


THE LEAVING

In the gnawing bite of winter
The winds, bone chilling, howl
Pale skies of swirling snowflakes
Lay a shroud upon the ground
To a scarred and shattered landscape
Some brief dignity is shown
Where the dead remain unburied
On the dark and blood-stained earth

The fronts inch slowly forward
The battalions follow on
The new blood marches to
The Caissons song
Strangers fill the spaces
Join the beleaguered rank and file
Resigned to further battles
Further up the line

But the ground will be retaken
The offensives bogging down
Countering attacks
They stall and fail
The stalemate still continued
And the guns still took their toll
And the generals counted casualties
As the soldiers vainly fell

It had to end, the armies broken
One side had lost but who had won?
The ravaged land, the decimation
So hard to bear, the loss and pain

The men returned, the war was over
The bells rang out, a country cheered
Behind their eyes, they stored the horrors
Behind their smiles, they hid their fears

The medals and the honours
Were handed out to those who served
The letters of condolences
Were kept
Reminding generations
Of the sacrifices made
The suffering and the torment
Of the men most never knew, lest we forget


THE OTHER SIDE OF ME

When the zephyrs pulse the sails I feel the tiller in my fingers
Feluccas dancing, flirting on the swollen Nile
Slowly touch the distance, the meniscus of horizons
A shimmering mirage across the desert sands

I follow silken threads in coral caves in soft suspension
Blades of torches scything through the stagnant gloom
Life's breath escapes like mercury, swarming to the ceiling
Silver serpents tunnel shadows to another room

I sensed someone there, I turned around, it wasn't you
I couldn't recognise at first just who it was, it had been a while
It seems crazy after all that has been said and done
I took a vow that we would never walk alone
But here I am, eye to eye, face to face
With the other side of me

Where the doorways tempt my intrigue with another key of sunlight
I am not afraid
I nurse a steady heartbeat, the currency of breathing
Pays my way toward new openings, in a life I used to know before

First person singular, me, myself, I
First person singular, no tears left to cry
I'm smiling deep inside, first person singular

I wander through the archways of green and lush cathedrals
Barefoot on soft needles on the forest floor
Awake inside a daydream, sombre meditation
I only hear the whisper of the falling leaves

It seems crazy after all that has been said and done
I took a vow that we would never walk alone
So here I am, eye to eye, face to face
With the other side of me

I lay on table mountain, gazing down on endless ocean
And I knew deep in my soul that I was not alone
I was not alone
Heightened by the freedom of this new realisation
The sun rose to the heavens through this crack of dawn
This crack of dawn

I sensed someone there, I turned around, it wasn't you
I couldn't recognise at first just who it was, it had been a while
It seems crazy after all that has been said and done
I took a vow that we would never walk alone
So here I am, eye to eye, face to face
With the other side of me
The other side of me
The other side of me
On the other side of you


THE GREAT UNRAVELING

He met her, she had me
Spiralling ribbons, cut the cord away
The twists of life, the knots of dreams
This was before the great unraveling

In time, no strings attached, so wild and free
No ties to bind, a world before us
We threaded hopes within the tapestries we wove
So far away, the great unraveling

The great unraveling
She tied my laces, sewed the buttons, spun the rhymes
The great unraveling
He taught the ropes, he spared the rod, he drew the lines
The great unraveling
She slowed the blood, my beating heart, the streaming tears
The great unraveling

The strands of time, the rules and chains that bind us
That holds us down till we forget just how to fly
Bound by fears, of change from old traditions
Began to sense the great unraveling

The great unraveling
She tied my laces, sewed the buttons, spun the rhymes
The great unraveling
He taught the ropes, he spared the rod, he drew the lines
The great unraveling
She slowed the blood, my beating heart, the streaming tears
The great unraveling

The lives that we played before
Stretch into our past define us
Instinctively hearts entwine
Love brings us closer to carry us forward
The seeds that we sow today
The loose ends we tie and nurture
The threads that we spin and weave
To uncertain futures, we usher them into the light
Into the light, into the light
Into the light, into the light

Imprint the knowledge, pass the message on
I know I have to let you go
One day I have to say goodbye
I know that I will have to leave and give up to the light
Into the light

 M P 3   S a m p l e s


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