Getting tired of town and Andy Oliveri's 'Pay Your Respect to the Rose'.
When I arrived at university Cheltenham was home to a thriving folk scene. It almost felt like it was on the brink of something special. It was host to a core of folk musicians who were in the same social circle. They collaborated with and supported each other and thrived in the towns venue - the Frog and Fiddle.
It was exciting for me to be there in the early days of being a freshman. I’d moved from a small village in rural Suffolk and the only place that had anything that resembled a music scene nearby was London (which was a two hour drive). But here there was a scene, there were gigs every night and people my age were attending them. It was an awesome vibe, meeting loads of people and watching new bands. I miss those days. With the naivety of living in a new town everything seems bigger and the people seem nicer. It’s funny looking back. Ordering a Butcombe for the first time and watching hosts of bands I’d never heard of assuming they were all a big deal. But after you spend some time there and get to know the people, the venues and the staff that innocence gets wiped away. You realise that things weren’t really what they seemed. The excitement and wonder just becomes normal and nothing seems as good.
Throughout the three years I spent there the folk scene largely weltered and faded. Bands like Jim Lockey and The Solemn Sun, Boat to Row, Welcome to Marathon and Jake Watson who had so much potential either moved away or disbanded entirely. The Frog grew boring and the bands didn’t seem so great. We still visited frequently but really we had moved on. It’s a shame that happens. At the time you don’t realise it but you inevitably miss it when it’s gone.
One of my early favourites of that scene was a humble, quiet chap called Andy Oliveri. I always considered him one of the integral parts of the scene but I liked that in a way he seemed somewhat separated from it-perhaps because of his unassuming and reserved character. You can see this in the way he’s quietly soldiered on whilst his contemporaries have largely died. When I first arrived in town it seemed that Andy was playing more or less every night but in my last months that wasn’t so much the case. I rarely noticed his presence save a few shows despite hearing about a new album from a friend who was helping to produce it. From what I could tell, Andy was staying quiet because he was making sure that he perfected it. I think he kept getting close but wasn’t entirely satisfied.
Looking at Andy’s progress since the release of ‘Pay Your Respect to the Rose’ he seems to have returned to a steady flow of gigging. Being overseas I struggle to keep such a close eye on him but I have a feeling it’s exactly where he wants it to be. In the position of playing what he wants to and when. Slowly releasing and playing music, taking time as he does so. You can hear that on the album.
It’s a breathtaking effort with 11 individually crafted tracks all beautifully written and produced. At face value it’s a superb collection of introspective acoustic tracks but as you pay close attention you can hear that the time’s been spent on perfecting the incredibly intricate moments. One of my favourite examples of this is the organ heard in the closing moments of ‘She Bets on Wild Horses’. It’s one of those rare moments in music where the most fragile performance becomes the most powerful.
I think that so many bands at this relatively small level of notoriety rush releases under the impression that the more content they have online the more likely they are to be noticed. It’s so inspiring to see an artist take more care in a debut that isn’t guaranteed wide exposure. You can really tell the Andy has taken as much time as he truly needed to create these perfect compositions.
