
This is the recently released second full length album from Canadian singer-songwriter, John K. Samson. His first, Provincial, came out in 2012. There is a clue here to the man and his work; despite Winter Wheat containing 15 songs, Samson does not rush them out, writing only three or four songs a year. Quality, certainly not quantity, is the name here, and here in my first exposure to Samson, that is the stand-out feature. This quality lies in the lyrics, the spare, but frequently deeply-moving, arrangements and just the fact that you are listening to a man whose sincere approach to many important issues shines through.
John K. Samson comes from Winnipeg, where as well as his musical activities he helps run a curling league and a reading programme for prison inmates. Much of his earlier music, and some on this album, is created with The Weakerthans, an indie/folk local band in which until their split last year, he was frontman. As well as music Samson has published a collection of poetry, so while the songs take time he is not idle.
A feature of this engrossing album is the feeling that every word has been very carefully selected. That is not meant to sound in any way patronising, far from it, but my overriding impression is that these are poems set to music. For that depth you need something to write about and the themes here are not trivial. Samson believes in community and recognises the perils of its breakdown; addiction is another associated theme that arises several times in the album. He also believes in completely overhauling his country’s approach to the use of fossil fuels, preferably not using them and trying harder to seek alternatives.
Taking these in turn; when communities fall apart, loneliness is a result and the title track, Winter Wheat, tells what that feels like. “Woke up in a parking lot…”, not knowing where you are but one thing’s for sure, you’re on your own. His haunting voice and gentle strumming underscore that isolation.
In similarly circumspect style, 17th Street Treatment Centre tells of the hopelessness of the poor addict who’s been in rehab for three weeks without much optimism for the future, “most of us probably not getting better”. The others there are a mixed group among whom there is a punk, a priest, a marine and a Serbian Deadhead”. Interesting bunch.
It’s not all quiet reflection. Vampire Alberta Blues is more than a tilt towards Neil Young not just in some powerful guitar but in the song’s hostility to those whose only interest lie in the profits to be made from oil without a care to the desecration left behind. “The Vampire Alberta drools a perfect inky tailing pond”. Scary. This is one of several songs on the album inspired by Young’s 1974 classic, On the Beach. While on influences and collaborations, I’ve mentioned the Weakerthans but also a signifcant contributor to this album is Samson’s partner and producer, Christine Fellows.
There is far more to this album than a mere review can summarise. Other highlights are the opening track, Select All Delete, a slow deliberate application of a simple keyboard action to remove unwanted content to removing bits of your past. That takes a bit of thinking about but in so few, but carefully selected words, Samson shows you how. Quiz Night at Looky Lou’s is perhaps the quirkiest song albeit with a deadly serious meaning.
“Singer-songwriter” does not do Samson justice. He seems to possess a consciousness that we’d all do well to dip into, perhaps a bit more often than we might. It’s not all heavy duty, there’s no sermonising, he just has a way of inviting the listener to sit down, concentrate and think about what’s playing. It’s almost meditative. On the strength of Winter Wheat I don’t mind waiting another four years until the next one.