Rich Young – Prozac Diary
It’s getting to the stage of just accepting you’re going to get a musically enjoyable and lyrically considered album every time singer/ songwriter/ multi-instrumentalist Rich Young pops into the studio to record another solo album, usually in the company of his right-hand music man Mark Stevens.
That’s because Rich Young has he been doing this for enough years (make that enough decades) to have perfected his craft; that of Americana/ country/ pop/ rock influences mixed with storytelling of the highest humorous/ serious/ poignant/ observational order (sometimes all within the same song).
Prozac Diary is the latest testament to that craft, and his prolific musical nature (his fourth album in just over a year).
Also, as per, Rich Young plays most of the instrumentation, but kudos must go to the aforementioned and accomplished Mark Stevens (co-producer, mixer, drums/ percussion, backing vocals, brass, and brass arrangements).
There are also a handful of significant contributions from others, including Myke Clifford (saxophone, clarinet, flute) and "Sci-fi" Jim Bryant, who provides lead guitar on three tracks.
Each of the 14 songs on Prozac Diary has a story behind it, from Americana/ country pop opener 'The Innocent' (written after overhearing a conversation between hedge fund managers and merchant bankers – "You can play the innocent, when the money’s all been spent") to six minute album closer, 'Indifference.'
The latter, a slow burn/ slow rock ballad that reflects on how old age seems to come with an invisibility cloak ("Can you see straight through me? Am I hear at all?"), ends on an acoustic, 'whom it may concern' confessional (Rich Young’s world weary vocality works beautifully here).
Between those musical bookends you’ll find the rhythm 'n' folk of 'Chainman' (written about a real life character who dresses in ironmongery – well, good to have a hobby), the jazzier, saxophone interjected 'Asylum' and the up-tempo but lyrically poignant 'Off The Radar,' where Myke Clifford’s sax appeal once again features.
Clifford’s clarinet is up front and centre on the old time rock 'n' swing of 'Handsome Freddie Fast Eddie,' which sports a great lyric about two good old boys with a shady business past.
Other highlights include the keyboard-led pop fun of 'Feet Of Clay,' the acoustic led wooziness of 'This Magic Life' and the blues-soulful 'Stone' (featuring Tim Slater on slide guitar), which highlights the callousness of insensitivity.
Then there’s the harmonica backed title track, the jauntiness of which is countered by a lyric that many who have struggled will be able to relate to ("I’d rather have this pain inside than nothing left at all").
At some point there might yet be an album from Rich Young that’s not engaging, enjoyable and lyrically thoughtful, but it hasn’t come around yet.
And I’m starting to think it never will.
Ross Muir
FabricationsHQ
That’s because Rich Young has he been doing this for enough years (make that enough decades) to have perfected his craft; that of Americana/ country/ pop/ rock influences mixed with storytelling of the highest humorous/ serious/ poignant/ observational order (sometimes all within the same song).
Prozac Diary is the latest testament to that craft, and his prolific musical nature (his fourth album in just over a year).
Also, as per, Rich Young plays most of the instrumentation, but kudos must go to the aforementioned and accomplished Mark Stevens (co-producer, mixer, drums/ percussion, backing vocals, brass, and brass arrangements).
There are also a handful of significant contributions from others, including Myke Clifford (saxophone, clarinet, flute) and "Sci-fi" Jim Bryant, who provides lead guitar on three tracks.
Each of the 14 songs on Prozac Diary has a story behind it, from Americana/ country pop opener 'The Innocent' (written after overhearing a conversation between hedge fund managers and merchant bankers – "You can play the innocent, when the money’s all been spent") to six minute album closer, 'Indifference.'
The latter, a slow burn/ slow rock ballad that reflects on how old age seems to come with an invisibility cloak ("Can you see straight through me? Am I hear at all?"), ends on an acoustic, 'whom it may concern' confessional (Rich Young’s world weary vocality works beautifully here).
Between those musical bookends you’ll find the rhythm 'n' folk of 'Chainman' (written about a real life character who dresses in ironmongery – well, good to have a hobby), the jazzier, saxophone interjected 'Asylum' and the up-tempo but lyrically poignant 'Off The Radar,' where Myke Clifford’s sax appeal once again features.
Clifford’s clarinet is up front and centre on the old time rock 'n' swing of 'Handsome Freddie Fast Eddie,' which sports a great lyric about two good old boys with a shady business past.
Other highlights include the keyboard-led pop fun of 'Feet Of Clay,' the acoustic led wooziness of 'This Magic Life' and the blues-soulful 'Stone' (featuring Tim Slater on slide guitar), which highlights the callousness of insensitivity.
Then there’s the harmonica backed title track, the jauntiness of which is countered by a lyric that many who have struggled will be able to relate to ("I’d rather have this pain inside than nothing left at all").
At some point there might yet be an album from Rich Young that’s not engaging, enjoyable and lyrically thoughtful, but it hasn’t come around yet.
And I’m starting to think it never will.
Ross Muir
FabricationsHQ