Is John Southworth our own John Shuttleworth, scuttling about and finding hidden moments? Having opened for Lou Reed's 'Time Rocker' rock opera, Canadian born John Southworth has been fashioning these charmed ditty's and whimsical songs inspired by bird songs, nursery rhymes, fairytales and old tavern songs, fired by a juvenile spirit and child-like innocence that doesn't tackle anything too tricky but spars with fun-filled lyrics about applecarts and small country airports. Bringing to mind Badly Drawn Boy, King Creosote and the quirkiness of They Might Be Giants with the wit of John Hegley, John Southworth is the kind of music teacher you never had but would have liked had the school not appointed someone to turn you off the subject.
'General Store' sets the general scene with unabashed fun and frivolity, chirpy and clap happy with toots of trumpet and a gentle melody, John singing -"...I'm gonna build a general store/ in the first floor of my house... I sell beeswax, and birdseed and buckwheat/ fireworks and false unicorns...", like a homage to 'Open All Hours' that'd see the bon homie extended to sharing a cup of tea with factions of the Taliban or Al Queda - it's infectiously warm-hearted. Whistling, acoustic guitar strums and chirp on 'Applecart' picture a Lowry painting of a world gone by, and 'Simple Simple Boy' brings to mind Rainbow's session band of Rod, Roger and Jane with a child-like song - "...in the dimples and the wrinkles of my heart...". 'Make The Time For Your Girl' deals with affairs of the heart, a song a teen Morrissey might have penned in dwelling upon a young love, yet comes across as too adult.
'Small Country Airport' has it with wit aplenty and antics at the airport, John singing "...I run the air traffic control room/ I de-ice the plane every night... so fly back to my small country airport/ won't you fly back to me...", the riffs and "sha la lars" making for a top pub singalong as John Hegley would have it. 'Baby Water Lily' is like Badly Drawn Boy with a Byrdsy twang and nostalgic twist, and 'Fall Coloured Girl' making use of the steel pedal for a torch song with a dab of Roy Orbison - "...and as I fall/ into your world/ will I be caught/ or left to be twirled...", the lightest of touches at work and brushed drums. 'Constantinople' provides another standout moment with a fine-spun hippyish yarn and violin dipping in, "...oh oh oh/ Marco Polo I will follow..." about finding his love heart. 'Puc Ahoy' provides the adult moments by contrast with bawdy barroom word-play - "...a puck/ a pick/ a wick/ a wuck/ a ****/ a fick/ a jick/ a juck/ a buck/ a bick/ a dick/ a duck..." to a jug-band delivery and some hilarity.
John Southworth has fashioned a warm album whose contents sprout seeds of mirth and whose songs feed lolly ices to your inner-child. Penning his own innocent vision of the world, its an infectious delight with simple yet accomplished musicianship that doesn't challenge, but hey, challenge ain't the point. In John's world, we'd all be with our one and only sweetheart, all of the time, and he carries the conviction well. For invention, there's few of his ilk.
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