Luke Smith

In a country chronically hamstrung by its collective awe of pointless pageantry and its deluded and seemingly endless embrace of deadening ‘lad’ culture, Luke Smith is as welcome as a truckload of nuts at a squirrel convention. Blending an ear for melody that was surely honed in a previous life as a Victorian Music-Hall emcee with a simple, touching and utterly unique lyrical turn of phrase, Smith is an unsung hero in the purest sense of the cliché.

Whilst almost umbilically bonded to his hometown of Canterbury, the music that rises out of Luke Smith’s piano will strike many a chord. If you consider yourself too brash for Belle and Sebastian, too old for Blink 182, too happy for Bonnie Prince Billy or too cool for Busted, you may have found your man. It may have been Ben Folds who memorably stated, ‘’you’ don’t know what it’s like / being male middle class and white’, but it’s Luke Smith who elocutes it the best. With song titles such as ‘Saturday Job’, ‘I Love Not Following Trends’ and ‘What’s He Got I Haven’t?’, the pain and disillusionment expressed by Smith is all too real for many people. Whilst it is sometimes expressed with an archly raised eyebrow, this is merely a realisation of the sad reality of self-expression in our gravely cynical times.

Whilst stating he ‘tries not to consciously fit into any particular tradition’, Luke does have a clear sense of where his heritage lies. He traces his music back through the great white British groups of the 60’s, whilst also bringing elements of the ‘catchiness and poeticism of the old American standards’. He also mentions how the work of John Betjeman ‘set his heart on fire’, which is an interesting connection to a very real Englishness that separates him from so many.

It would be easy to criticise Luke Smith on the grounds of extended idiosyncrasy, but he clearly views this undeniable side of his character as a virtue. When questioned on his views with regards to being consciously ‘within’ or ‘reacting against’ a tradition, he makes the excellent point (which is not made enough) that whilst the idea of a tradition appeals to people by suggesting a sense of belonging or validation, it does risk stifling idiosyncrasy and individualism. However easy it may be to shut Luke into a box and hammer a sign on saying ‘Do Not Open unless in need of wry piano driven musings on the British condition with a side order of dry humour and a dessert of new male angst’ (there have been more ridiculous genres in the past), the genius at work here is a perfect example of what Smith characterises as ‘good individuals having good individual ideas’. It is indeed a rare and precious thing.

A true point of reference for those still waiting to be initiated into Luke’s world is his ultimate desire to bring as much of himself into his music as possible. Where singer-songwriters such as Will Oldham and Coner Oberst will introduce you to their dark world where all light is shut away, the world of Luke Smith is a somewhat lighter affair. This is as much a testament to the man and his country as it is to his music. When asked to talk about influences, he cites Edward Hopper’s memorable quote that the greatest influence on his own work was himself. By itself the utter pretentiousness of the quote would be enough to merit the ritual burning of all Luke Smith replica dolls and other merchandise, but when coupled with the knowledge it was also used by Tony Ferrino, he just about gets away with it.

It is impossible to see Luke Smith grow any bigger than a much loved cult figure, largely due to his lo-fi techniques and his occasional, unfortunate overtones of Chas ‘n’ Dave or other cockernee bleeders with their old Joanna’s, but there is definitely an audience for him out there. He likes to think that he could appeal to Americans, to be seen as ‘an exotic fruit’. When you consider the UK bands that have seen success in the States recently (mostly Coldplay and Franz Ferdinand), the tie that binds them hardest is the way they are uncompromisingly British in their sound, so perhaps the red underbelly of the US might appreciate another esoteric, weirdo Brit.

So, if you are currently lacking a guiding musical voice, you could do worse than turn to a quirky, different, Krazy, Jesus look-a-like from Canterbury. Yes; every single one of those adjectives would have me running for the hills as well, but don’t. A world obsessed with war, Bush, triumph and disaster needs a steadying hand. Luke Smith is not that hand – you are, but, if you ever feel the need for a steadying hand of your own, you know where to turn. He also looks a bit like Atlas the Greek you know.