After some consideration, I realised that Keaton Henson’s Kindly Now is most definitely one of my favourite albums of the year. It’s a sensitive, creative exploration of developing as an artist and growing into yourself as a person. Nylon shared a lovely series of images that Henson has created to accompany each of his songs – further setting him apart as a unique artist and giving context to the album with each of the brief descriptions he gives. Perhaps the most interesting of these is “The Pugilist” which features a rudimentary watercolour sketch of a figure, literally pouring his heart out on the table before him. It echoes the vulnerability of the song in a beautifully simple and striking way, with the description reading as follows: “A song about the relationship between an artist, his audience and the part of his brain that won’t let him stop making things.”
It is unsurprising that Henson released an anthology of poems during the break between his two albums. Each song on the album is thoughtfully crafted in a way that makes you wish you had written it yourself. But the album doesn’t stop there. There is sun and shade to this album that Henson’s listeners have not yet experienced from him. Henson dabbles in alt rock territory with Comfortable Love, bringing to mind Brand New’s blend of sensitivity and full blown angst. The fragility of Henson’s vocal does not detract from the strength of what the album communicates, but rather adds to it. The emotional range of the album is reminiscent of the iconic Grace, by Jeff Buckley, in the sense that Henson is not afraid to disrupt the comfort of his listeners. Although Kindly Now relies more heavily on electronic elements than Henson’s previous works, there is a rawness to the album that comes from its honest lyricism. Harmonies and echoes weave in and out of the album, giving it momentum and colour with each track. But Henson has not ditched the warm sound of the strings that characterised his earlier work. Rather, he has grown his sound to create a richer landscape that may be even more heart wrenching. The recording, although masterfully produced, has a live feel to it. Piano pedals, breathing and the creaking of wooden instruments (or perhaps floors) has not been edited out of the album. As a result, it feels as though Keaton Henson is across the room, pouring his heart out as you listen. It’s rare and it’s beautiful.
Old Lovers in Dressing Rooms has a broken nostalgia to it. Henson has a unique way of detailing insignificant events, of telling stories, of sharing everyday details that breaks your heart as you listen. It’s realism at it’s best – you’re there with him as he sings. Of this one he says only, “Hope this one speaks for itself. Post concert can be a strange place to be.” Gabe is a rich instrumental, featuring hazy vocals, bassy oboe and electronic sounds, unidentifiable background noises and electronic synthesizers. It’s a break in the narrative, a breathing space for those listening. This is necessary in albums like these - that demand your attention as you listen. It’s a moment of release in between the intensity of emotion. The opening track, March, is also a point of interest for me on the album. It takes little elements from each of the tracks to follow and combines them to create a colourful, abstract piece that invites its listeners into the mood of the record. Perhaps everyone should do this. Holy Lover sees Henson experimenting with vocal textures and layering, rich orchestral instruments and minimal lyrics on heavy rotation. It’s a magical combination of sounds, abstract at certain points, and immersive at every turn. Keaton Henson doesn’t choose a single theme, but considers the complexities of relationships, of religion, of nostalgia and of art-making in a way that gives us a glimpse into his mind. There’s nothing contrived about the album. It is simply Henson, laid bare, and that is its beauty. Kindly Now is a complex, layered album, beautiful in a different way on each listen. One thing the album is not, is background music. In a sense it reminds me of an art exhibition, with each piece contributing to the artist’s concept and a wonderful cohesive, if unidentifiable, thread informing us onlookers a little more. Listen to it with earphones in. Listen to it alone. Listen to it with the volume up. Kindly Now is not an album to slip through the cracks.
