More about: Westerman

It feels increasingly rare to find an album which improves when listened to in its entirety. Refreshingly, Will Westerman’s Your Hero is Not Dead meets that criteria in abundance. In the titular closing track, he sings of how “Time / Is not what I thought it would be” and the difficulties of “days you’d like to dismiss”. This vulnerable, sensitive piece mobilises the feeling of uncertainty, able to acknowledge disquiet and its presence in the mind. The album finishes by echoing the same words on which it opens in ‘Drawbridge’. But when you do reach this closing version, there’s a different inflection, a new feeling behind it. No longer just a sentence, the rich accompaniment invigorates the lyrics and affords new meaning to the title. There’s no grand story or narrative arc to this album, but rather it explores the confusing hills and lowlands of emotional intimacy, and paints a convincing outline of the space between the spoken and unspoken.

Westerman’s sound concentrates different tensions both musical and lyrical, lending it a very recognisable style.  Avoiding attention-grabbing crescendos of activity, one could argue that the album seems to lack focal points in a soundbyte-focused pop scene. Yet listening to the modulations or sudden synths of ‘Think I’ll Stay’ one is taken aback by the way in which Westerman is comfortable pushing the boundaries of form and dismissing conventional song structures.

The primary instrument and the cornerstone of this album is the guitar, but working with producer and friend Nathan Jenkins (aka Bullion) has borne Westerman a variety of sounds from different palettes - and a polyphonic texture is a key element of this album’s sound. Whether it’s his use of finger-picking on ‘Dream Appropriate’, reminiscent of Steve Reich’s Electric Counterpoint, or the guitar-as-vocalist dynamic on ‘Blue Comanche’, Westerman takes subversion of a plain vocal/instrumental relationship as his mode and runs with it throughout.

Synthesisers, cathedral-like reverb and deftly picked guitar strings all have a place in the interplay of textures this album provides. ‘Easy Money’ is a particular highlight whose chords are pierced by a striking caesura early on. This trick isn’t repeated, left to stand isolated rather than supported by repetition. On first listen, this track brought out goosebumps and deserves recognition all of its own.

By incorporating a wide variety of phrasing which lends a playfulness to its form, Westerman may turn some away. But the unapologetic nature of his embracing of uncertainty is the major component of this album’s appeal. Like all memorable art, this album poses a challenge to its listener. Dissonant chords often chime with lyrics which ponder this theme, faltering and becoming contradictory even in the space of single verses: “22, 24 let me inside or once / Or twice / Or once or twice or … What you think?” in ‘Waiting on Design’ highlights the slipperiness of certainty in a world which ostensibly moves to deny it.

Despite the uncomfortable subject matter, the emotional territory of the album is ultimately hopeful, palpably evident in ‘Your Hero is Not Dead’ and ‘Blue Comanche’. In the latter, Westerman there is a gentle sensitivity to the composition, accompanied by a set of beautifully uplifting vocal harmonies. Unsurprisingly, Perfume Genius mentioned this song in Q magazine as something approaching a tonic for the complex and confusing world at large.

‘Confirmation’ is Westerman’s most popular song for good reason, and having heard it originally on streaming playlists, its catchiness is a large part of the appeal. But listening to this track with a pair of headphones on reveals a glimmering underside to Westerman’s work: the fruits of a labour of love which can easily pass unnoticed.

Similarly, glancing at Westerman’s website shows a visual framework created around this album, a grid of unexplained but familiar symbols leading you to lyrics and Westerman’s artistic inspiration. There’s a sense here of the unspoken work behind the final edit and listening to each track provides an inescapable feeling too of the craft and care that produced each song. Though every sound is patently deliberate and there are no throwaway notes, the challenge this album faces (unashamedly so) is the real possibility that casual listeners won’t discover this window into the creative process. Rather than force this upon the audience, Westerman simply provides an opportunity for a curious listener to pull on the thread that this album’s craftsmanship exposes, delving into this creative space and learning how artists such as Nick Drake, Neil Young and The Blue Nile have all influenced his work. Into the opacity of the lyrics and the dissonance-as-form, the listener can confront discomfort and draw their own conclusions about the meaning which this album conveys, with nothing concrete being provided by the artist to direct them.

Your Hero is Not Dead speaks to the degree of optimism that can be found amidst a backdrop of uncertainty. Playful, intimate and challenging in equal measure, this is the work of an artist confident in their sound and the ideas they want to present to the world. Westerman “wanted to make something that’s eventually uplifting” in creating this album, and ‘eventually’ is perhaps the key word: a casual listen to one or two of the songs will be enjoyable, but listening to Your Hero is Not Dead at length will reward you with an ultimately joyful palette of sounds and textures. No album is a panacea for the confusing and difficult emotions Westerman observes here, but taking this album on a walk outside felt invigorating, something many could use at a difficult and confusing juncture.

Your Hero is Not Dead arrives 5 June via Play It Again Sam

More about: Westerman