Hamish Hawk Album Review: Angel Numbers
Hamish Hawk’s latest album Angel Numbers wears a heavy self-consciousness. He’s admitted it’s different because the album was written and recorded in the shadow of his first “successful” record, 2021 breakout Heavy Elevator. With Idlewild’s Rod Jones returning at the producer’s helm, Hawk nonetheless found himself avoiding succumbing to pressure, writing much more quickly and loosely, uncharacteristic of the diligent self-editor in him. The result, though, expands upon Heavy Elevator; that is, Angel Numbers’ stadium anthems are as worthy of fist pumps as anything from The War on Drugs or Sam Fender, its ballads as lush as the best Jens Lekman songs. Hawk has created a world where everyday life remains grounded while the angels--songwriters, artists, pop culture icons--creep in and out of our consciousness.
Hawk purposefully reveals the album’s palate on “Once Upon an Acid Glance”, a showcase for all of the instruments used on the record and the venerable band who plays them: guitarist Andrew Pearson, keyboardist and percussionist Stefan Maurice, bassist Alex Duthie, and keyboardist John Cashman. It’s also the song that introduces the album’s angels who come and go, as Leonard Cohen and Karen Carpenter rub elbows with David Hockney and Britt Ekland. And though he can be verbose and obtuse, Hawk has a simply captivating way of delivering lines, enunciating to suggest wordplay even when there isn’t: “Feckless sex dreams” and “vipers in the night” are some of the half rhymes that make you consider whether you’re listening to a poet or someone shouting on the street.
Indeed, it’s this middle ground where Hawk thrives, and it’s no coincidence that the songs where his mind wanders and the album loses its sense of place and time are the best. The soft keyboard hues of “Bill” soundtrack Hawk’s recollection of being visited by none other than Bill Callahan in a dream, who gives him advice about a song two tracks later. That very song, “Money”, sees Hawk surviving the demands of adulthood by layering humorous observations, wondering “who buys a jacket from a gunmaker” and laying his eyes on someone with “legs in those jeans like you were born to ride a Clydesdale”. On the gorgeous, Southern rock-imbued Samantha Crain duet “Rest and Veneers”, Hawk rails against norms, or at least realizes how glad he is they change. Spending time with someone, he sings, “You know, way back in wartime, you’d be my common-law wife / But for now, it’s just the two of us / And I’ve never felt such freedom in my life.” With all the ups and downs and “circumstances so abject,” Hawk finally finds the angels right in front of him.