Bobby West: As The Morning Crept In – debut single and video premiereBobby West

As The Morning Crept In

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Bobby West springs straight out of Walton, Liverpool with a beautiful haunting debut single, accompanied by a equally simple stark video reckons Wayne Carey.

Liverpool bands and musicians have been producing some stunning stuff lately and this one is up there with the best. It’s got all the hallmarks of Richard Hawley playing cards with Johnny Cash, whilst Mark Lanegan looks on with a glass of bourbon. A smouldering piece of songwriting that will get you on the first listen.

A native of North Liverpool, Bobby grew up in the notorious district of Walton. Famed for very little other than its crime and poverty, Bobby’s youth could have been an uneasy one had it not been for the early discovery of his artistic talent.

In his adolescence West split his time between honing his musical ability and the boxing club. A promising fighter, rising through the ranks. However for Bobby the pull of music and art was too strong. By the age of 21 he formed his band Broken Men and success came quickly, touring England, Russia and Europe in support of Echo & The Bunnymen.

Mr. West now embarks on his first solo project, spending the past 8 months experimenting in the studio Bobby has meticulously pieced together tracks to paint an authentic depiction of his world. A dark gritty world which he ruthlessly laments, yet like a man in the gutter reaching for the stars, Bobby gilds the edges of his world to create something beautiful. His lens is tinted with a sun drenched glow at stark contrast to his surroundings. A sweet juxtaposition that echoes in his music. Bobby sings of terrible things in beautiful melody’s, like a council estate Sinatra his golden voice self deprecates in alluring harmony.

With a collection of crooked ballads over which Bobby howls his gritty lullabies, he invites the listener to peer in. At a glance West’s world is one of beauty, shimmering string sections and resonant pianos call to mind the chanson style of Jacques Brel. But in Lynchian fashion, Bobby strips away the veneer to reveal twisted tales of spent love, bad romances and the grim realities of modern culture. There is a rare, lived in truth all too apparent in Bobby’s nouveau croon.


Words by Wayne Carey who writes for Louder Than War. His author profile is here.

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"I'm a 50 year old man, and I like it!" A music nut from North Manchester. If it's good I'm on it. Most genres covered but mainly alternative post punk indie with a dash of hip hop stylee.


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