I doubt many people who know me would believe that once all the social armour and painstakingly copied behaviour has been jettisoned, I consider myself a small, and rather quiet soul inside. I think too much, I have little in the way of natural emotional defences and so build huge walls and shoulder every fear I pass just to add to my collections of stuff I have gone through life gathering. And since the first album of John Mitchell’s Lonely Robot project floated my way (their second, The Big Dream) the way they managed to bypass my walls with just their beautiful, deceptively delicate constructions of music has been a thing of wonder for me.
Somehow, after the final album of their travelling spaceman trilogy I missed their last album Feelings Are Good (corrected now) and so A Model Life, bereft of its science fiction trappings and outside looking in observation, is a different and very grounded in reality turn..
But with the first few moments of ‘Recalibration’ sweep in that distinctive guitar sound there is no doubt who this. Gentle, graceful modern and melodic prog, layers of sweet keyboards and the journey of trying to get back on track when a long-standing relationship ends in the (provided!) lyrics.
Strange and darker cello sounds herald the careful steps of ‘Digital God Machine’, a restrained but still pointed poem directed at online trolls; Mitchell’s emotionally nuanced vocals and rich tones weave this so beautifully. There is no bile to the delivery, no rage, just a certain sadness in the melody and a wish in the lyrics. Perhaps even a plea.
Lonely Robot are perfect proof that gentle is not weak. There is a stunning strength to the rising notes on a song like ‘Starlit Stardust’, and a trustworthy guiding arm leant by the guitar lead. Nor does it mean simple – compared to the last album I reviewed there are stranger sounds, the landscape and rhythms occasionally eccentric but so in keeping on the idiosyncratic but heartfelt offering to the beauty in all us outliers, ‘The Island Of Misfit Toys’. There is always so much going on in these moments of life, the dancing keyboards, the variations on the theme from the guitars and yet so well is this curated that nothing seems cluttered, everything has its purpose and your ears and mind can roam afar or simply let the music hold you to the simple path.
Lyrics inevitably touch you. The title song is just so full of yearning and of wishes, of the ‘what ifs’ that plague us endlessly when things go awry. ‘Rain Kings’ looks at the inability to express, the need to hide and repress so much emotion in men. And the utterly wrenching ‘Duty Of Care’ seems to be concerned with the failure of some fostering or adoptions.
There is so much to unpack, so much that takes the desire to move from me and to whispers I should risk opening myself to the emotional outpouring that such poetic music can bring, sometimes I do and parts of A Model Life hurt so much, nestling so close to my own wounds that it can open them.
Unassuming, unpretentious and yet uncompromising in its expression; Mitchell has produced another deeply thoughtful, strangely gentle and lyrical album that deserves more praise than my limited vocabulary can muster. It may well leave you choked at times, perhaps the ache in your eyes that might be tears too but, well, just look up into the rain, maybe? No one will see.
For what it is worth, this lonely writer thanks the Lonely Robot for just dropping by once more.
(9/10 Gizmo)
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