Frank Joshua is not the first person to have had a problem in Houston, but his tale is perhaps the most sonically beautiful, cosmic in a very different sort of way to the more famous incident. Sitting in that place that he has carved out for himself, equidistant between the folky songwriter and the dreampop soundscaper, “Houston” is a charming autobiographical (I assume) reflection piece with a groove that lilts and lingers seductively.
It is the most minimal of back beats that power the song on, although it would be more accurate to say that it floats rather than flies, drifts more than it drives, the perfect balance of gentle momentum and graceful melody.
Deftness meets delicacy is the key; the musical layers are gossamer-light, their colors understated, but as they are added one on top of the other, colors blur and mingle, and new hues emerge, the light diffused, stained-glass-window-like as it pours through the song, a kaleidoscopic effect that is more than the sum of its original parts.
As always, it is the atmosphere that Joshua is concerned with here, and considering that he found his collaborator and producer, Tony White, by flipping through the phone book, there does feel as if there is an element of serendipity to the pairing and the shimmering sonic world they have created around themselves.
And with Joshua clocking up 45 releases in five years, it is not just his work rate that is to be commended; more importantly, it is his ability to push his own benchmarks constantly, benchmarks now even higher thanks to the majestic, mellifluous, and melodic “Houston.”
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