Warm, wistful country-leaning songs find their strength in memory, reflection and some lovely understated musical touches.
There is something appropriately old-fashioned about Just Like a Black and White Film, the sixth studio album from Dave Sutherland. Across eleven songs, Sutherland draws on country and folk traditions to tell stories of relationships, childhood, ageing and lives that have not necessarily turned out quite as expected. It is an understated record, rarely straying far from its gentle country foundations, but there are enough small musical flourishes to give the songs their own character.
That approach is established immediately with An Occasional Clown. Acoustic guitar, bass and drums are joined by keyboards and some lovely backing vocals, while Sutherland introduces one of the album’s recurring themes: the gap between youthful expectations and where we eventually find ourselves. “I don’t think that I’ll be a millionaire now” is delivered with humour and resignation, while the clown trying to erase his “grease painted face” adds a melancholy edge. It is typical of an album that often finds warmth and humour in looking backwards.
A Single Thing of You continues the gentle country sound, with subtle piano and picked guitar accompanying a straightforward declaration of love, while The Mirror introduces pedal steel and returns to the idea of looking back at a former self. That sense of lives passing and changing continues on The Test of Time, which picks up the pace slightly as Sutherland remembers bicycles, buses and a relationship stretching across the years. There is something charming about the ordinariness of these memories, particularly when sentimentality is punctured by the admission that the one thing he would change is the day he forgot to bring “whatever it was that I forgot to bring”.
Storytelling is also central to When We Used to Play, where a military-style drum introduces a tale of childhood friendship and separation. The simple admission “I’m glad you got successful / Wish that I could say the same” carries more weight than a more elaborate lyric might have done. Strike Up the Band, meanwhile, creates a wistful musical landscape around a darker story of love, war and loss.
The album becomes more musically distinctive as it progresses. Old London Town begins with harmonica before developing into an affectionate wander through the capital. A singalong chorus gives the song an easy charm and some lovely guitar work adds emotional colour, but it is the introduction of a penny whistle that really lifts the arrangement, reinforcing both the nostalgia and sense of place.
Even better is Ladders and Snakes, one of the album’s highlights. Beginning quietly with acoustic guitar, the song gradually builds without losing its mellow, reflective quality. “We never remember / The lessons we learn” might sum up much of Sutherland’s outlook here. These are songs populated by people who have made mistakes, burned bridges and discovered that experience does not necessarily make any of us much wiser. The simple tune captures that reflective mood particularly well.
There is more folk influence on Darlings, where whistle and accordion provide additional colour to a tender song about children growing up and leaving home. I Won’t Stop Playing in the Band has something of an older country feel, with Sutherland’s almost conversational delivery accompanied by piano and backing vocals, before Keep Right Rolling On brings things to a more upbeat conclusion with its prominent bass and waltzing rhythm.
There are occasions when the familiarity of Just Like a Black and White Film works against it. Some of the lyrical images and country motifs are well travelled, while the consistently gentle pace means that not every song leaves the same lasting impression. Yet there is also something appealing about the album’s lack of pretension. These are modest, warmly performed songs about looking backwards, growing older and accepting the unexpected directions life takes.
At its best, the album finds something quietly affecting in those ordinary experiences. The penny whistle of Old London Town, the reflective beauty of Ladders and Snakes and the folk touches of Darlings are moments when the album moves beyond the familiar and establishes a character of its own. It may be more likely to gently accompany an evening than demand your attention, but there is warmth and humanity here.
