Ontario Blue

Available from Displeased Records, Ronde Tocht 7d, NL-1507 CC Zaandam, Holland.

ENDURA have long been one of my favourite artists, so I was very keen to hear whether Stephen Pennick's latest solo recording would match those of his previous outings with musical soul-mate Christopher Walton. I'd already heard Stephen's first album, 'Shine', but this second release is far better in terms of ability and all-round diversity. I'd always enjoyed those rare sung moments on the Endura albums - 'When I Was Dead', for example - and 'Waiting For Rain' proves once and for all just how good Stephen's voice actually is. Midway between Ian Curtis (Joy Division) and Douglas Pearce (Death In June), his deep tones induce the listener to retain a perpetual hum long after the CD player has reached its silent climax.

The cover is a Mary Bell landscape of playful children in a post-war setting; the foreground a spider's web of deep and yellowing cracks. One can almost hear the slow 'drip-drip' of T.S. Eliot's 'The Wasteland', symptomatic of the crisis faced by modern man as he waits for spiritual replenishment in a desolate world. The pictorial style of the accompanying booklet, meanwhile, is a stark contrast between misty woodlands and concrete ruins; the gulf between Nature Eternal and the contemporary age of dissolution. The opening salvo and title-track, 'Waiting For Rain', echoes these sentiments like a sharp knife held at the fragile windpipe of modernity. A revolt against the 'humdrum domesticity' of our age. The two-chord drone in the background is interfused with Pennick's slow chanting and the poetic observances of serial killer Denis Nilsen. If this is an example of Nilsen's writing ability, then it's a great pity that Endura's prospective collaboration with him on the Cold Spring label never came to fruition.

'The Sins of Man' is more melodic, with the dramatic keyboards reminding us of Endura's 'Great God Pan' period and surely to be expected from one half of Darkwave's dynamic duo. This really is a stunning track and the song's underbelly - complete with a menacing and fitful drumbeat - is juxtaposed with sweet harmonies. The next song, 'Drought', continues the theme of spiritual deprivation. Pan-pipes and tinkering piano are combined with a lament of painful ululation and the results are quite hypnotic, although the track is far too short for my liking.

'Praying in the Temple of One' grabs you by the collar, pulls you closer and then yells hoarse instructions into your ear like Mephistopheles crouched at the left hand of Doctor Faustus. It's an incantation of temptation, corruption and decadence, sliced through with an atmosphere of urgency, impatience and slightly calmer female vocals. 'The Summoning', meanwhile, is born in a whirlpool of distortion and rises Lazarus-style to speak of pain, solitude and death. Towards the end it plunges headlong into a decreasing mush of slow-motion sound, rather like the effect a power cut has on a record as it loses all sense of momentum and enters the silent void.

'The First Sign' arrives like a demented Victorian timepiece, click-clacking its way through a swirling hurricane before re-emerging unscathed in a stoic hail of Ambient keyboards. And then the click-clacking returns like the impending chimes of Ennio Morricone's 'Sixty Seconds To What' as loud peals of thunder greet 'Bring on the Pain'. The delicate acoustic guitar flows through this track beautifully and its wild melodies are mystical and untamed. Again, there seems to be a slight Morricone influence and one almost imagines a cloaked Pennick riding through the Northumbrian wastelands in search of adventure.

'Deluge', on the other hand, is a synchronization of sweeping keyboards and tribal drumbeats that underscore Pennick's grim reflections about the persistent struggle between life and death. The horror and trepidation of Francis Danby's watery brushstrokes morphed into song. The fascination with H2O continues with 'Into the Deep', a babbling brook that witnesses the return of the acoustic guitar and some rather nice piano accompaniment. The song itself, however, is easily the best on the whole album and definitely a theme for a drowning man. And what a way to go. Similar to Nick Cave, perhaps, the strong vocals are very catchy and the flowing chorus is joined by some excellent verses.

'Now We Grow' opens with a throbbing heartbeat, as loud sighs and a single-fingered piano resemble a love-struck Rachmaninoff in a minimalist bout of repetitious self-containment. The words 'Sickle, Scythe, Stream & Stone' have a rhythmic quality in themselves and the enchanting Clannadian strains are uttered as though they were a shrill celebration of Ancient Celtic lore in the realms of a Tellurian coven. And finally, 'Calm Skies Golden' marks the advent of a new era. The downpour has now abated and the rays of the sun come shining through in a rainbow of liberation. The song itself, incidentally, is very similar to some of the tracks on 'Hail the Mushroom Cloud' by Puissance. A fine album by a very talented individual. Bring your waterproofs and go for total immersion!