On Richard Dawson’s latest odyssey, End of the Middle, the Geordie songwriter shakes off the past. The 41-minute avant-garde operas of The Ruby Cord’s The Hermit; the heart emojis etched into 2020; the weavers and prostitutes that formed the patchwork of Peasant, by and large substituted for characters established in the mundane. In the middle.
Stripped back to vocals, guitars, some syncopated drums and the odd saxophone skronk, End of the Middle even sees Dawson’s forename shortened to a good ol’ Rich. And who knows? Maybe his next release will see us referring to him as Dick…
So skeletal at times, End of the Middle is reminiscent of the eccentric troubadour occupying a corner in some backwater pub in Saddleworth, spinning yarns and subjecting the solitary punter to weep tears into their Tetley’s. It’s not a world away from how Dawson started out, trying his hand at spoken word around Newcastle haunts where those same tears were produced courtesy of poems about dead cats and the like.
It’s stirring stuff, because it’s highly relatable. Especially as Dawson and his listenership grows longer in the tooth, and as this happens, the mundane mysteriously begins to have a greater pull.
Richard Dawson’s 2020: the makings of an unbridled masterpiece
The cynic will be quick to point out that End of the Middle isn’t a great leap from Dawson’s 2019 masterpiece, 2020, as one could perhaps connect the dots to certain themes and characters. Can they, though? Because that’s the thing about Dawson’s songs: not even he has full knowledge. The great writers never do. It’s out of their hands, relinquishing power to their protagonists who possess free reign.
Besides, the characters littered throughout End of the Middle are orbiting a different stage of life. The anxiety of the character in Civil Servant to the aspirations held by another in Fulfilment Centre, overshadowed here by the cycle of life. While the protagonist in Gondolin harbours her own aspirations, on this occasion there’s a nostalgic grace to it. Dawson, creating a Groundhog Day-like backdrop where Good Morning Britain and Deal or No Deal offer familiar noise as the character dreams of different phases of her life and what’s she missed out on.
Meanwhile, opening gambit, Bolt, sees Dawson brushing across the strings with a beautiful riff that is worthy of any great opener. Jen’s watching Neighbours, the old man’s whistling in bath, while mum’s in the room reading yesterday’s papers. Through the lens of the protagonist, the tale unfolds with a lightning bolt flashing through the house and up the phone line.
Richard Dawson - End of the MiddleIt’s Dawson smashing the ordinary into the absurd like never before, and on Bullies he continues to expand his songcraft. Centred on students being suspended and expelled from school, told through various voices, it almost feels like a lost Roddy Doyle novella.
Meanwhile, on the warm, minimalist blues of Boxing Day sales, Dawson explores consumerism and how true meaning of the festive spirit has been eroded by capitalism. Those Christmas songs, as insufferable as the ITV cast of ghouls he references in Gondola.
The knotty avant-folk of The question possesses more nuance. Another past versus present allegory, Alice settles into her new home despite apparitions of a railroad worker carrying a severed head who perhaps once stalked the same landings. “Where are you going?” she asks. It’s not the only time home ownership features. Removals van – an inspired story about a person flying the coop only to return to the familiar creak and groans of the family home, greeted by his parents’ strained relationship thanks to his father’s redundancy.
Knot is another reflective number born from similar times. The protagonist, that “bird in an oil slick”, as he and his partner travel down to the Lake District for a friend’s wedding. One that has everything from a besuited hound bounding down the aisle and Power Point-inspired speeches to the usual karaoke tropes and bust ups such occasions offer. Not before a spot of avian enthusiasm via a bird of prey display (of course!). Dawson, turning the mundane into something cataclysmic.
And speaking of, Pollytunnel is just that. A song about pottering around and escaping the rat race for home comforts, a similar backdrop forms for More than real. Featuring Sally Pilkington, it’s the saddest song Dawson has written. Those fears of losing loved ones, crystalised through a song that bores deep into the bone, as Dawson weaves these realities as expertly and vividly as ever.
Such as the direct nature of End of the Middle, it’s Dawson’s chance to become part of the mass culture fabric. The King of the North, expanding his realm. It shouldn’t come as a surprise, as Dawson has embraced the characters that feature in his songs like no other artist today. It’s quintessential folk music. Home-spun warmth, now with an extra layer of it, and why not? This winter’s been the coldest in years, and with Dawson illuminating the everyday truths that majority are faced with, something like End of the Middle might just be what the country needs to bring people together.
End of the Middle is out now via Domino Recording Co. Purchase from Bandcamp.
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