Soup by Jason Parr - A Soundscape of Musings and Mental Conflictions
Soup by Jason Parr is described as a Soundscape with spoken word 'hoping to inspire the new generation'. From the opening Good morning No. 9, lifts the psyche with a slightly poignant but hopeful violin, singing against the words in a haunting, rhythmic fashion as 'shadows to steer into secret forms'. The album reminds me in part of David Almond's Skellig, where Parr’s protagonist drives his monologues with both hopelessness and yet residual determination. This shifts with 'The Great Stone' where a distraction is offered as a focus, primarily being that of the stone itself and how it might be chiselled into something eventually, as long as work continues, even if the teller himself has gone, which echoes throughout the album including ‘Give me a Tree’ and A Devon Trip Remembered’. The track’s briefness adds more to the poetic strums found within 'The House of the Dim', which at its opening is distinctly absent of external sound, thus drawing us further into the narrator's mental and eloquent pictures: evoking themes of both Spike Milligan and Edward Leer. As such, by the time the piano appears, it is almost a caricature of this unravelling circus, which seems disjointed and yet still harmonious, with a hint of playful frustration overlapping with madnesss, perhaps from the environment within the house or the mind.
Subconsciously this strengthens the track of 'Dreams' which floats along with a steel guitar backdrop. Here Parr offers melodies of 70s band Yes and their track: 'Roundabout'. As a self professed poet, Parr is keen to utilise his choice of instruments which contain unique voice and expression. This track which is free from spoken words, marks the transition period found within the folky blues track of 'The reeds give bed' which hums along like a boat on the river, suggesting perhaps a brief reprieve from troubles.
However, ‘Give me a tree’ replaces this joviality with routine, before an elegant memory surfaces in ‘Wales’, in a tone similar to Vaughn Williams ‘The Lark Ascending’, singing of a land long since seen and almost forgotten, with the piano and guitar echoing this emotion and heartfelt desire to return home, contrasting again from the persistent darkness that had haunted the album at the beginning. Thus the ‘monster’ of track 8 seems more damaged and angsty than had it been placed earlier in the album. Perhaps, in the regret of yet again waking to find himself back in the shadow of himself. The character is desperate to speak, or scream out his concerns, but holds back in fear, voicing his feelings in frenzied whispers against the organ refrain. However, this mood is retained and builds to an almost climatic conclusion within the final track. Here Devon is described as ‘perfect’ compared to Wales but lacks the elegant warmth of ‘Wales’; here is our narrator’s conclusion, resolution and determination, where and how lucky he is, if only to find ‘the perfect day to die’, even if he is not ‘selfish’ enough to act on his desires.
On reflection the album is a full circle of a emotions and grief, tinged with a desire to understand yet wandering aimlessly without a purpose save the fixed and the mundane. It repeats seamlessly as a circle of life, with increasing bitterness tinged with a desire to escape its mental prison.
5/5.
Reviewed by Emmalena L. Ellis