Echoes and dust

Empty your mind and picture a series of black and white photos:

First: A desolate harbour, populated by one solitary wreck of a boat, stuck deep in the mud, which, on this photo, appears blacker than tar
Next: An old man with a flat cap, sitting alone on a bench, in a deserted, mist covered park, staring into the middle distance
Next: The same man nursing a pint, looking out of the window of a pub, a slightly out of focus barmaid and regular, conspiratorially laughing in the background
Finally: A granite house surrounded by moorland, next to it a single tree, bent at its top to create a 130 degree angle as the wind bullies it.

This is the world that Dakota Suite inhabit.

Right then a bit of back story before we embark on this wonderful, but harrowing journey into 'Signal Hill': Dakota Suite is essentially the work of Leeds based Chris Hooson and collaborator, Richard Formby. His sparse, haunting and desperate songs are based on his own personal experiences; in '95 he attempted suicide (taking to his bed, he tried to will himself to stop living), he worked in a hospice for terminal alcoholics, he now works with young offenders, and he's also an Everton fan, which, back in 2000 (the year of Signal Hill's release), would have been enough to drive anyone to despair! Needless to say, the album isn't filled with sunshine pop and 'Go Team' style optimism. To find out more about Mr Hooson's disposition just take a look at his MySpace site:

'Influences - the things about myself that repulse me, which is like, well a cavalcade of things'

'About Dakota Suite ..........can't see the real need for anymore music but I keep committing my thoughts to tape, so they get released. We rarely play live because I can't stand it really, too painful.'

Ok, so he's probably not the guy you want to meet in the pub, to shoot the breeze over the crazy antics of the latest batch of Big Brother contestants, however such a melancholy outlook certainly serves him well, when it comes to turning out a classic album like 'Signal Hill'

'Signal Hill' was released in 2000 to commercial and (as I recall) critical indifference, but to a few of us the album moved us in ways that we had never felt before. The album is minimalist in its reliance on gently strummed acoustic guitar, electric piano, the softest sounding bass this side of a cashmere recycling dump and barely brushed drums. On occasion though, it brings in horns and strings to underscore the melancholy nature of the album.

The theme throughout the album is of a man at odds with himself; he so much wants to be loved but keeps pushing that love away as he can't bare himself, and the way he treats those he loves. See 'Close Enough To Tears' with its early refrain 'Never let me go' followed later by 'If you feel, you just can't carry on, and if you feel I've let you down, just let me go'. Backed by barely produced acoustic guitar, this is heart wrenching stuff. A similar sentiment lies in 'The Cost Of Living'; 'How could I do all these awful things to you.....I wonder how I'm gonna live without you', the anguish with which the last two words are sung is palpable.

Another theme is that of falling, none more so than in 'A View Of The Sea'; 'Got to fall so far, I can't see what's going to stop me'. Again, it sees him battling to keep hold of love but simultaneously being scared of torturing the object of his desire; 'Find someone who won't mind my bleeding wounds'. He's destroying all around him by not accepting that they're there for him.

The title track paints the portrait of a Hooson asking to slip away from a life, that is ultimately too painful for him to carry on in, but his lover won't let him 'I can barely breath, but you won't let me drown', 'Lying here wanting my heart to stop' and the final lines (sung almost as a plea) 'You won't let me drown - Let me drown'. Backed with slight, slide guitar and the saddest of all instruments, the cello, one can't helped but be moved. However, it also suggests a contradiction in his fear that there won't be anybody to help him; 'Your sad eyes tell me, there's no one to break my fall - nothing lasts, it always fades, slips away'. Is this a contradiction, the realisation that it's only he who can help himself out of despair or both?

'Riverside' is possibly the most harrowing of all the numbers here. Backed only by the sound of a train rushing over the tracks, and a sparingly plucked acoustic, it brings to mind a journey of reflection, questioning why and how one keeps going, but also one of realisation - of the pain being caused around him 'Is it true, is it true, are you breaking up inside'.

'Clean Linen Sheets' is one of the few numbers that builds on the acoustic backing with some delicately distorted feedback, another is the instrumental - 'Raining Somewhere', a track that almost suggests restrained hope trying to break free. It's also one of the few moments where a jazz influence can be discerned with Formby's clean and forthright guitar noodling. Think a mellower more restrained HP Zinker and you'll be on the right track. This is not the only moment when hope raises its head, also see the final track 'When Skies Are Grey', which sees him start to actually accept love and not push it away; 'If you find me, will you hide me - say you will', and resembles a boat drifting into harbour on the calm AFTER the storm. With the trumpet almost signalling the arrival of a bright new day.

However, to get to this moment we certainly need to get through the storms in 'Morning Heavy': 'Go, go away, I don't need you.....you've taken everything I need away from me' or 'I'm so afraid, I don't need you, I don't need you', again backed with some bass heavy, guitar jazz inflections. Follow this by the chamber piece 'I Turned Away So That I Might Not See', backed by the occasional ships bell being struck and stark piano, this is the sound of a man on the edge, overlooking the precipice. The nearest comparison being The Rachels.

The simplicity of the lyrics make the album more real, as if listening in on the inner most thoughts of its creator, and when backed with such thoughtful and restrained musicianship, one can't help but inhabit the same mood as the album - for some it may even help, when they realise that they are not the only ones who feel this way. Listening to it so intently presents quite a struggle - it's such personal and heavy content - but please, I urge you, give it a go, as nothing is as rewarding as completing a true challenge.