Musical subtlety and insightful words add up to a contender for album of any year.
Album press releases often fall into two categories: perceptive or preposterous. Especially when a band is new to you, the first task of the reviewer is to work out which side of the fence the words you are given land. The PR for the eighth Great Lakes album starts: “Over 25 years and eight records, [Ben] Crum has built a reputation for sharp songwriting and interesting stylistic shifts. Don’t Swim Too Close is no exception, as Crum draws from a classic rock tradition, echoing both the Americana spirit of Neil Young and The Band and the proto-indie rock of Television and The Velvet Underground.”
Having set the bar high, especially by invoking the sainted name of Television, the album needs to deliver. And with a one-two punch of opening songs, it does just that. Another Klaxon Sounds leads with less than two minutes of catchy country/pop, which warns us to look out for life delivering a problem, often signalled by the “watch it” of an internal klaxon going off in our heads. The crunching guitar which opens On The Way Back and the reverb-filled vocal present another side of Great Lakes’ sound. We are now firmly on the side of perceptive, as the songwriting is indeed sharp. In interviews, Crum has talked about Graham Greene’s memoir Getting to Know the General as an influence on this song. Crum relates that to the sometimes-torturous journey of the lone writer. Seemingly speaking to Greene, he muses, “You were first to admit; in the novel, there were many holes.”
Having jumped through two stylistic shifts in as many songs, he presents us with the psych-meets-Neil-Young of Carry the Message. A piercing guitar line, which has echoes of Young’s Mr Soul drifts into an almost Grateful Dead closing section. Using the bass line to double the vocals gives the song a unique sound. Any song that can carry the line “the future’s out there, waiting like an open grave” is one which needs serious attention, when matched with the country piano and intimate delivery, Like An Open Grave ends up as almost a celebration of midlife angst. The title song adds a Tex-Mex sound to the country of the previous song and continues the theme of mental health struggles. The chorus of “Don’t swim too close to this drowning man. He’ll drag you under if he can” is delivered with a bounce, as is James Richardson’s Dick Dale-esque guitar solo, which follows. David Gould’s bass playing is one of the highlights of the album, and nowhere better than here. Crum explains this song: “I wrote it while recovering from a severe concussion that left me depressed and questioning my future. I honestly didn’t know if I was going to come back from it, and it scared me.”
There are two instrumentals built around drum tracks laid down by Crum’s late colleague, San Fadyl. San’s Blues’ layers of guitars swirl around the stereo image and should be on a crime drama soundtrack. Ohm continues similar themes this time from Kyle Forester’s organ and piano.
Crum can write a straightforward love song with the best of them. Seeing Through Her benefits from Suzanne Nienaber’s contrasting vocal and the piano-led closing section adds a poignant element to the tune. The Freer Heart quotes Iranian American poet Kaveh Akbar’s “there are no good kings, only burning palaces” line. Which, given that this was written in April 2026, with the U.S. attacks on Iran ongoing, is ironic to say the least. Song for the Old Man is another straightforward song paying a moving tribute to Crum’s late father. Are We Here Accidentally closes the album by asking some of life’s big questions over a sparse piano and baritone guitar backing.
The mix of songs, which have their different shades skilfully interpreted by a fine band, with keenly observant lyrics, is one Great Lakes are now added to the short list of new favourite artists discovered through the good offices of AUK. So, seven more albums to buy then.
