In one of several playfully erudite, self-written reflections included in press materials accompanying his debut solo album, Wild Tales and Broken Hearts (Sweet Irene Records, 2022), Sheffield troubadour Samuel James Taylor brands himself a believer in finding life’s diversions in the road, and, indeed, there’s a lot of that over his record. Grand lyrical gestures aside, you hear songs where the central figure may have experiences like a forlorn character in an Edward Arlington Robinson poem.
Over his twenty-year recording career, the folk singer/songwriter has addressed the Big Things in life: love, loss, pain, hope, with lyrics that would feel as at home in an inspirational quote calendar as his quirky, open-hearted compositions. You heard a voice calling out from a choir of angels / You awoke from your slumber, lying in a haze / You couldn’t even recognize your own face, goes the full-bodied refrain of the title track of his album. His songs are warm embraces from a pair of arms whose wingspan knows no limits. If you identify with a chronically misunderstood musician or any outcast who, as Taylor meditates on Faith, Hope and Fortune, “They asked me to take a leap of faith / so I jumped right off the edge”, there is room for you in his generous, lived-in gospel.
Taylor began his musical journey on a decade’s worth of adventure with his band Dead Like Harry, then continued as a solo artist. Since, he has kept busy with multiple side projects (Taylor & Marie, Ophelia, The Greatest Endangered Thing) and as a guitarist for numerous artists throughout the UK and USA. He plays guitar to good advantage in his AUK Mini-Gig. “As Neil Young said, this old guitar ain’t mine to keep, it’s mine to play for a while. I bought this secondhand Yamaha acoustic when I passed my school exams aged 16 from a small music shop called Wavelength. The shop was an institution in Sheffield, and many times I’d walk in there to find local legends having a cuppa and trying out guitars. I’ve owned the guitar for 25 years now; still plays great. It’s been everywhere with me, and I imagine had another life before me. I also play harmonica; this one is a Hohner Blues Harp.”
Over the four years since Wild Tales and Broken Hearts, Taylor has remained dedicated to practising such unconditional empathy in his music. In fact, he is presently back in the studio working on new solo material and intends to release songs throughout the year with the aim of having the full album available by November (2026). “It is a turbulent time in the grassroots and independent music world right now,” Taylor said, “but I believe in art and music and the need to keep creating.”
The video was recorded in his parents’ cellar in Sheffield. The three songs he plays are listed below with notes from Taylor. As with the bulk of his music, he zooms in on the little things that make life so intriguing. After a long journey to the ends of himself and back again, Taylor, it seems, is bringing it all back home. To find out more about him and his music, go to his website or social media on Facebook and Instagram.
1 The Tide: The inevitable and unstoppable passing of time, how we live on in each other, the many journeys of life. Seeing it all as a circle, we continue in and with each other; the tide keeps rolling…
2 The Flowers Were In Bloom: You can’t know at the time the days you’ll never forget, the days that seem to form something in you that the foundations of your life are built from. I guess this song is about remembering one of those days, a time filled with the conviction of youth and trying to find that strength in my voice now I’m a little older, to get back to certain pieces in that person I used to be.
3 Late June (45 Years): I wrote this one for my parents. They were approaching their 45th wedding anniversary, and one day all the immediate family were round in the childhood home again, my brother and his wife, his kids, me and my wife. That evening back at our house, I wrote this. It pretty much all tumbled out in one, a tribute to my parents and the life they built for us all.
