Stephen Black, more widely known by his stage name Sweet Baboo, is now on his 9th album of idiosyncratic indie folk. A journeyman amongst Welsh musicians, having played with artist such as Cate Le Bon, Euros Childs, and Gruff Rhys, amongst others, it is with his solo music that we really get to see the real Black. Threateningly twee at times, it’s this characteristic that actually drives the darker edges of his music along. With new album The Wreckage, none of that has changed which is a delight to hear.
From the off, you are immediately wrong-footed as ‘Hopelessly’ injects its amiable swing into something much more sinister beneath its almost lounge act exterior. Helped on by a heavy dose of flute, the song takes an almost unexpected turn into psychedelic whimsy. ‘The Worry’ continues with a wonderfully piano led amble before imbuing blasts of brass behind its melody. There’s a hint of Neil Hannon behind all this although minus that aforementioned artists arch cynicism. Here it’s played for openness and delight, and is totally wonderful for it.
If the protagonist of ‘Left Out The Door’ is left looking for inspiration, there is certainly no shortage here as the minor key 70’s songwriting influences allows for a melancholy edge to seep through. ‘Goodbye’ is more uplifting, although the hang dog vocals still retain that melancholic edge. It also features the immortal line “shouting at all the geese”, which quite frankly sums up the idiosyncrasies of both the music and the artist. After all this, ‘Horticulture’ sounds almost space age after a hefty dose of pastoral apologising, as glistening synths emerge in the background of an incessant beat.
There’s a strong sense of the Canterbury Sound through The Wreckage, more than helped by some of the more jazzier elements. None more so than on the introspective ‘The Waitress’. This more progressive edge continues in ‘Herbie’ too, evoking prog mixed with easy listening lounge music. It’s music like this that should make Sweet Baboo a national treasure, although its innate folksiness may prevent it from reaching a wider audience more attuned with big gestures. By melding simplicity, melody, and moments of experimentation, he creates an interesting world which seems set aside from the real one. It sounds almost mythical at times, but always with that nagging feeling that it is somewhere where you have been, and belong.
