Album Review: Darren Watson - Getting Sober For The End Of The World (2020)

I’m not sure I want to be sober for the end of the world. I’m not even sure I want to be sober. But that’s one hell of an album title, and given everything else that’s been going on around us in 2020, you might be surprised to learn that Wellington bluesman Darren Watson had locked in that title for his latest album long before we were lumbered with any of this pre-apocalyptic global Covid-19 saga. 

It’s probably fair to say this album has been one of the more difficult releases of Watson’s long career. It’s been a bit of a process. From the initial Pledge Me rallying cry in November 2019, which heralded an “early to mid-2020” release date for Getting Sober For The End Of The World, through a prolonged lockdown period as tracks were recorded and mastered, right up until this week’s release date, Watson has been hard at work, piecing it all together without any real certainty of outcome or timing. And yet, somehow, despite all of those very real challenges, it arrived perfectly formed, fastidiously crafted, and bearing all of Watson’s trademark attention to detail. And, let’s face it, you’d need to be sober to make any of that happen, surely. Fair play.

I’ve already seen a few early reviews from learned scribes suggesting that Getting Sober is Watson’s best work yet. With just a few listens under my belt before writing this, I’m less keen to go that far … for now. After all, the bar was set awfully high after 2018’s Too Many Millionaires. 

What I will say is that this album adopts a very similar approach to Millionaires, which was a far more stripped back variation on blues and soul than a lot of his earlier work. What worked there, works well again. Watson’s ever-maturing voice and gat-work again take centre stage, but a few of the same players are back to help out, most notably - without really wanting to single anyone out - Terry Casey, who adds an harmonica masterclass to several (of the nine) tracks. 

Album centrepiece ‘Ernie Abbott’ is a stand-out. One of Watson’s best ever tracks. More than just a story about an unsolved murder, it’s a heartfelt, if forlorn, plea for justice. A sobering reminder of one of this country’s worst and more gutless acts of domestic terrorism. A fitting tribute to the every-day working class ordinary bloke who goes about his daily business barely noticed. There but for the grace of God etc … 

Watson’s penchant for including local covers continues – this time we get ‘Love That I Had’, penned by fellow Wellington musician Matt Hay. There’s also Robert Johnson’s ‘Preachin’ Blues (Up Jumped The Devil)’, which acts as an ideal album closer. My own favourite track so far, just for the little bit of grime added to the vocal mix, is ‘Broken’, which simply oozes authenticity and stylish execution. 

I’m a little gutted I’m going to miss Watson’s album promo gig at San Fran this week. Wrong day, wrong part of the world for me. I was all set for another Paekakariki date with Watson before the most recent round of Covid-19 restrictions somewhat prematurely put paid to that idea. Another night then, but in the meantime, I can raise a sneaky glass to Getting Sober For The End Of The World. 

You can pick up a copy of the album here.

Album Review: Darren Watson - Too Many Millionaires (2018)

A few months back, Wellington bluesman Darren Watson made an honest and heartfelt social media confession about how mentally and physically exhausted he felt in the wake of his most recent New Zealand tour. 2018 has been a big year for Watson. A new album, Too Many Millionaires, recorded and duly self-released, followed by the obligatory promotional treadmill, capped off by a series of gigs hot-footing it around the country. To paraphrase Watson, there wasn’t much left in the tank. Which is perfectly understandable. It’s the musician’s equivalent of a sportsman fronting a post-match interview with the requisite “I left everything out there on the pitch” … 

As is so often the way for blues artists of a certain vintage, Watson just keeps getting better with age. Even if Watson himself is unlikely to buy into that type of lazy cliche or stereotype. After all, he’s been breaking through barriers for the 30-plus years he’s been doing this stuff. As a passionate student of the genre, living at the bottom of the world, plying his trade thousands of miles beyond the heart of the Mississippi delta, forging a career playing a brand of music that many would claim to be the sole preserve of black America. 

Which of course it isn’t. Watson proves that. As have others. But it can sometimes feel that way. Particularly for anyone craving any amount of authenticity beyond the barely palatable blues-rock crossover fare which frequented mainstream radio in the Seventies and Eighties. 

In terms of the album itself, critics far more knowledgeable than myself - especially when it comes to blues music - have been swift to label Too Many Millionaires as Watson’s best work yet. And from all accounts it rates as his most commercially successful album to date. 

It’s certainly one of the more stripped back and less complicated albums he’s ever released. Something that not only serves to highlight the quality of the lyrics on offer, it also brings the work of Watson’s band into sharp focus. In particular, the tight rhythm section, and Terry Casey’s artistry on the harmonica. 

As with past work, Watson is not shy about mining New Zealand’s rich - yet mostly unheralded - blues heritage, breathing fresh life back into a Bill Lake number on the title track, and paying tribute to local legend Rick Bryant on ‘That Guy Could Sing!’

On ‘National Guy’, Watson unrepentantly explores similar themes to one that got him into some hot water with the electoral commission a few years back … 

“If you wanna share some of mine, well, get to the back of the line” … 

Opener, ‘Hallelujah (Rich Man’s War)’, and ‘Un-Love Me’, appeal as the best of the rest, and but you’ll not find a dud track anywhere on Too Many Millionaires. 

The only reservation for me, is that after the closing strut of ‘Past Tense’, I’m still left wanting more, and at just eight tracks, running its full course at a few ticks over 32 minutes, the album is perhaps a little too short.