[the following review was written and provided with exceptional grace and generosity by Michael Kemp. This gentleman was the first to purchase a copy of the record, and we at Altar Clef are perennially grateful to him for his support and encouragement.]
to contact the man -
From the sheer cliff-face of the bleak monolithic high-rise, opaque on the front cover, to the two wanton angels led astray with dark eyeliner and album title smeared upon chests (I hope that’s eyeliner too, boys) on the disc itself - Nick Hudson’s “TERRitORies of disSENT” album falls into our waiting hands as soft as herring gull feathers, as sharp as a child’s blade.
An introductory La Monte Young-type drone of strings sets the stage, before glissading off into an exotic Persian garden sequence - Ali Baba searching for his thieves on the far side of town with Patrick McHugh’s cor-anglais charming snakes from their ancient baskets way along the Medina.
Nick Hudson’s dark fluttering romantic voice leads us into “Nocturne” - the grand gesture - somewhere in the European tradition of wine and inspired depravity - Rimbaud & Verlaine leaving the church and heading for the brothel, Wilde and Lord Alfred in the gutter but, yes, looking at the stars - all given shape and ornate architecture by McHugh’s dexterous and exquisite oboe embellishments.
Rumbling bass patterns and renaissance organ flourishes colour “Baedecker”, while gentler folksy guitar shapes and falsetto spirals decorate “No Matter” - a whiff of the Catholic Church, with a hint of existential Gallic accordion thrown in for good measure.
Rain on city streets ushers in “Cale”, an extended narrative piece that builds with intensity along the ridges of its sonic course, assisted ably and harmoniously by the good people of the Kemptown Colliery Band Chorus.
Other saturnine delights abound. Chloe Morgan impresses with her femme fatale sans merci vocals on the dance-y “Coming Up/Dimensional Slide” - given a baptism of fire during Edinburgh Festival this year - at a real dance club no less - ecstasy flashbacks and “Day In The Life”-type crescendos upping the ante considerably and transporting the entranced clubbers to god knows where...
The smoky incense and hanging baskets of “Interloper” - solemn ritualistic keyboards, ghost shadows recalling John Cale & Terry Riley’s “Church of Anthrax”; and a series of dazzling Philip Glass-type arpeggios serve as baroque backdrop for Hudson’s languid “Brave New World” - haunting duet vocals by Wolf Deraze, summoning up the spirit of William Blake, angels descending over the West Pier.
Whereas the sensory landscape of “June Resolution no 1” - with medieval harp plucked decorously by Erika Blaxland-deLange - transports us back through the mists to green Sherwood Forest somewhere in the 12th century - Nick Hudson as wandering minstrel - Alan O’Dale on crystal meth - with an extended repetitive coda to infuriate the Sheriff of Nottingham...
Final track “How to Recycle a Dream” - a hesitant acoustic guitar figure builds up tension, released initially by Debbie Garret’s deft French horn, and subsequently the entire ensemble returning to resolve this nocturnal shadow play, this encoded collage, this ambitious and stunning song cycle - as the man says: give it some space to love...
