At a cultural moment when it seems toyboys are everywhere — atop the charts, on the arm of every fashionable woman — along comes Paul Kelly, revered Australian singer-songwriter, to make a case for the Older Man.
Kelly’s new album concerns itself with love and lust — the yearnings for connectedness, intimacy and meaning that only deepen and grow more urgent with the years. It’s a sensual, beautiful record, profoundly appealing and undeniably inspired, the caliber of work a young artist dreams of making someday, after living long and true enough.
Ways & Means is a double album; its two halves would make perfect sense apart but amount to quite a glorious whole. The first disc is a dazzling succession of brash country-soul melodies, with vivid and immediate stories; disc two, by comparison, is subdued and somber, whisper-soft, prayer-like.
It all starts with a deep oceanic rumble, the reverb-washed instrumental “Gunnamatta”, then plunges like a body surfer headlong into the proverbial sea of love — the theme for the twenty love songs that follow. Kelly’s extraordinary way with words and music lends many of these songs a metaphorical power, calling to mind all sorts of parallels between sexual love and divine love, the creative process, mortality and time, and the mysteries of being alive.
Musically, it’s vital, loose and joyous. Kelly’s band of old friends and young kindred spirits clicks perfectly, as producer/engineer Tchad Blake captures what sounds like an effortless and spontaneous studio experience.
This world doesn’t ask Paul Kelly to make music this good. What he asks of himself, and the answers he sings back to us here, make it plain that it’s the higher mysteries, the simpler and sweeter questions, which are truly worth the asking.
