After 29 years with British indie/garage/beat/punk/psych-pop collective Comet Gain, singer/mastermind and main fireraiser David Christian thought, "Why not do a solo album?" After all, some of his favorite records are also solo records by people from bands; John Cale, Gene Clark, Julian Cope, Stephen Duffy, Mike Nesmith, Curtis Mayfield, Neil Young... under the sun of his new home in the South of France, exchanged for Brexit London, a timeless folk rock album was created with the kind help of numerous friends on numerous instruments. The verve and snottiness of the Comet Gain sound can also be found here, but For Those We Met On The Way sounds more dandy, somehow more southern French. If you like listening to Robespierre's Velvet Basement by the Jacobites and the electric songs of Bob Dylan's Bringing it All Back Home and Comet Gain... then For Those We Met On The Way is perfect for you.
Fleeing screaming from the group gulag after 29 years of maintaining sweet failure at all costs with his group Comet Gain songwriter and singer and oldest bastard in the gang David Christian (sometimes known as Feck) escaped to the French woods by the ocean when Boris and his rabid disgusting crew weren't looking. The LP was made in the middle of the French countryside in a barn/farm owned by Mike and Allison Targett of Heist fame where along with old comrade and wonderful drummer Cosmic Neman (Zombie/Zombie, Herman Dune) they cut the record while cows grazed with Mike producing and both Targetts adding vocals, pianos etc. Then later, the group of friends known as The Pinecone Orchestra; James Horsey and Alasdair MacLean (The Clientele), Ben Phillipson (18th Day Of May, Trimdon Grange Explosion, Comet Gain), Gerry Love (Teenage Fan Club, Lightships), Anne-Laure Guillain (Comet Gain, Cinema Red And Blue) and Joe-Harvey Whyte (Hanging Stars) colored everything in with guitars, vocals, bass, pedal steel etc. Part of the weird process of looking back or trying to diary a life full of holes is that it's best managed through friends, places, records. But mainly the people you knew -- good or bad -- those fleeting best friends forevers whose faces you now struggle to recall, the crushes that crushed you until you wonder "well i wonder how their life turned out." Acoustic guitars, pianos, pedal steels, harmonies, wonderful drumming... There are alcoholic skinheads, forest hermits, Californian dudes, Holloway sweethearts, bruised mods in the upstairs room, strange boys being hit by a car, painters who can't paint no more, friends and ghosts and lovers and losers.
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