Album Review: MF Tomlinson - 'Strange Time'
A wave of responses to the past year of lockdown, tragedy and mundanity was inevitable. Brisbane-born, London-based artist MF Tomlinson’s Strange Time is a solid effort at reflecting on this shared experience.
No, he’s no relation to the late, great MF DOOM. Tomlinson follows in the singer songwriter tradition of laconic storytelling, bordering on spoken word, which harkens back to genre greats like Leonard Cohen and Bob Dylan. In fact, comparisons to Bill Callahan’s 2019 album Shepherd in a Sheepskin Vest are irresistible and well-deserved, although Tomlinson’s pleasant voice doesn’t quite plumb the depths of Callahan’s effortless baritone.
The album begins with title track Strange Time, which reaches immediately for Biblical imagery in lyrics telling of “plague” and “flames”. The chorus cleverly juxtaposes this sense of catastrophe with the tedium of being “locked down in my home/Just scrolling on my phone”. The contrast of universal and personal themes underpinning the pandemic resonated strongly with me, although Tomlinson struggles a little in elevating the prosaic to the profound, something Bill Callahan is a master of. His quip that “we got more than we bargained for this time” in wanting “to take a break” is a little on-the-nose: earnest songwriting that leaves little to interpretation, descriptive rather than illustrative.
In contrast, Spring approaches its subject matter obliquely. Tomlinson resists the obvious springtime imagery of sun, flowers and growth in favour of cryptic statements like: “The world belonged to itself again”. This kind of nuanced songwriting is ultimately much more rewarding on Strange Time than any attempt at plain-speaking poetry.
Aside from its excellent lyrics, Spring showcases Tomlinson’s expertise in curation and composition, drawing on disparate genres and elements to create compelling and complex musical textures. It begins with birdsong, your mind already anticipating an earnestly-plucked guitar piece to follow. It’s here that Tomlinson begins to build his own identity, eschewing Callahan’s lo-fi and minimalist tendencies in favour of rich and soaring instrumentation that owes as much to the undulating brass conversations of Miles Davis’ Sketches of Spain as anything else.
Tomlinson’s musical instincts are at odds with those of his songwriting, in that he consistently pursues the unexpected. Them Apples’ punchy rock stabs descend into an unsettling undercurrent of hysterical laughter and a guitar solo that wouldn’t be out of place in late ‘70s Pink Floyd.
The chord progressions, unlike some of the lyrics, aren’t satisfied by the simple resolution or the easy way out. This discrepancy creates a tension in Strange Time which is the EP’s strongest point, creating a desire to relisten and discover more.
I’ll certainly keep an eye out for MF Tomlinson’s future releases. His debut is a richly textured consideration of a year in lockdown. The star of the show is the arrangements, hinting at a malaise and lack of resolution.
Words by Dylan Wilby