by Ben Hogwood

What’s the story?

Mark Barrott’s eleventh album under various guises is his most personal yet. It tells the story of the sad passing of his wife Sara in 2023, but at the same time recognises the incredibly positive effect she ultimately left on his life.

About the record, he has said, “This is a story. A story of life and ultimately death. A story of two lives coming together through a chance meeting on an aeroplane and spending the next 20+ years together via the craziness of Berlin in the late 90’s to Northern Italy, South America and finally the tranquility of rural Ibiza. The story of how life can change and be snatched away in the blink of an eye. But this is not a sad story, it’s a story of joy, love, grief and gratitude for what was.”

For the first time Barrott has harnessed choral and orchestral forces to tell the story. This was not the original intention, but once started the music continued to expand, its natural point of expression found.

What’s the music like?

Unlike anything Barrott has done before. If your way into his music has been through the pair of heat-soaked Sketches From An Island albums, this will come as a surprise – in a good way.

This is not an album where the orchestra and choir are used almost for the sake of it, to beef up the sound. Instead Barrott uses them sparingly, shading their contributions with a delicacy that suggests he’s been doing it for a long time in his head.

The music proceeds with a really satisfying blend of presence and poise, Barrott successfully embracing the orchestral medium with confidence. The muted trumpet on the second part of Butterfly In A Jar offers a beautiful hint of melancholy, while ushering in a track where the blend of jazz and electronic inflections is beautifully judged. Meanwhile Looking Through The Mirror Of The Soul catches telling reflective glimpses, its lovely flashes of light from the strings adding a mysterious edge to the music.

January 25th – presumably the day of his wife’s passing – is the most powerful track on the album, the shackles off as Barrott harnesses the choral power at his disposal. It has a slow but deliberate tread, and a full-bodied, widescreen sound laced with drama.

Ultimately, as Barrott says, the outlook is positive, and the beautiful weightlessness of The Light Is Still There looks upward to much better times ahead, its electronics floating on a warm breeze.

Does it all work?

It does. This is a moving testament from Barrott, one that traverses all kinds of emotion as the album naturally runs its course.

Is it recommended?

Very much so. This was clearly a cathartic album for Mark Barrott to make, and his heavy personal investment bears fruit in music of great beauty and emotional power.

For fans of… Hybrid, Sasha, A Winged Victory for the Sullen, Thomas Newman

Listen and Buy

Published post no.2,384 – Thursday 5 December 2024