Man With A Love Song

Worlds are about to collide. With the release of Man With a Love Song, James Hill, who has earned a reputation as Canada’s foremost, indeed one of the world’s foremost players of the often-underestimated ukulele, stands poised and ready to take his place in the ranks of the country’s very best young songwriters.

Barely into his 30s, Hill has already made a career out of knocking worlds against each other. His technical prowess on ukulele is achieved through attacking what is mostly regarded as a lowly folk instrument with the seriousness and with the nuance of technique usually associated with the highest levels of virtuosity on, say, classical violin or piano. His entertaining and unpredictable solo concerts have a world-wide audience that would be envied by many wannabe rock stars. His inspirational music seminars have made him something of a ukulele-based motivational speaker: the Tony Robbins of reentrant tuning. Anyone lucky enough to have seen one of Hill’s recent live shows will be familiar with his hip-hop influenced forays into heavily percussive, beat-driven prepared ukulele sound sculptures: John Cage meets Chalmers Doane via Kid Koala.

But just when you may have thought you’d seen all possible surprises from Hill, just when you may have thought, through his powers as an instrumentalist, he had doomed himself to working up ever-faster renditions of Flight of the Bumblebee, comes a landmark record: Man With a Love Song. Ukulele World: shake hands with Songwriter World.

There were hints of what this record would turn out to be in 2009’s collaboration with cellist Anne Davison: True Love Don’t Weep. That record saw Hill stretch his chops as a vocalist and, on three original tunes, songwriter. But whereas True Love Don’t Weep (which won a Canadian Folk Music Award) was a further impressive footstep forward in the career of an increasingly ambitious musician, Man With a Love Song is a quantum leap, a Star Trek transporter trip in which Hill has propelled himself to a whole new level, a whole new realm.

It took Hill twenty-odd years to climb to the top of ukulele mountain as an instrumentalist, but here, seemingly in a single blast, Hill’s songwriting has grown to rival his prowess as a musician. Multiple factors come together on Man With a Love Song to make such superlative work: The generosity of this record: 14 tracks. The rock-solid musicianship of Hill and his collaborators. The clear strength of Hill’s singing voice. The playful breadth of the styles in which Hill has chosen to write (from the blues, soul, and big-band jazz of “What Would You Have Me Do?” through the bluegrass-tinged “Hand Over My Heart” and the barber-shop style vocals of “Lying In Wait” to the spoken-word and percussion of “Soap and Water”).

But the central astounding fact of this album, the seat of this record’s power, is the poetry of the lyrics. The songs are full of wordplay and clever turns of phrase: “This dollar is an old-fashioned hell/ A kink in the hose to the diving bell / I’m as rich as a thief in a deep wishing well…” There is great humour here: “You can’t trust a man with a love song/ You don’t know how many lips that tune has been on.” There is rich imagery: “Whale in the deep blue/ Elephant white/ An arachnid clamoring up a brass pipe/ Like eyes in the jungle/ That see through the night/ Our love is lying in wait.” But most importantly of all, there is an honest poet’s voice in these words, unafraid to confront personal vulnerability and personal pain. The pain and vulnerability of these songs however, is not raw pain and vulnerability.

There was a time I was so young
The little voice inside me carried a gun
Those were the days I couldn’t lose
The only thing that didn’t dare come near me was the blues
But you should see me now
You’d barely recognize me my own true love.

Hill has not given us sophomoric weepiness, but a hard-won wisdom, which is what makes this record seem like the work of a much more seasoned songwriter.

It takes guts to do what James Hill has done here. The difference between playing musical notes, which Hill has done for the bulk of his artistic life, and singing words, especially words that one has written oneself, is that musical notes can suggest ideas and moods, but in and of themselves, they are devoid of literal meaning. Words carry the world inside them, and it is impossible for an honest artist to put words on a page, or in a song, without revealing a hitherto-hidden piece of self.

A virtuoso instrumentalist, which Hill has been up to now, especially a young virtuoso, especially a young virtuoso on a maligned and under-respected instrument, can make a career out of having something to prove. A songwriter, on the other hand, must have something to say. The James Hill we get to see in the songs of Man With a Love Song has said plenty and said it eloquently.

This is an exciting moment for the ukulele. A major songwriter has used the instrument to make an important record. This is an exciting moment for songwriting in Canada. A powerful new voice has emerged.

- Leo MacKay (2011)