It’s brave to step outside of the chaos sometimes, for there’s a comfort to be found in crowds. Josienne Clarke, armed with little more than her guitar, sought space in a remote cabin in the Scottish Highlands where, in a few short days, she emerged with the best collection of songs of her career so far. This was not an easy task, as the film that accompanies the release of Far From Nowhere, the 20 minute essay upon the plight of the single artist in the sometimes ruthless music industry Deluded, testifies. Among the tears and the solitude, Clarke has somehow managed to write songs that connect her to the listener more than ever before.
Clark travelled with little more than the mere sketches of songs and has maintained their sparse nature, in keeping with the wilderness she was surrounded by. There is always warmth among the bareness though, no more so than on ‘In the Dark of the Night’, whose pulsating chord structure pulls you along, perfect for late night rambles or that nightcap you could probably do without having.
Proceedings were almost derailed immediately when, with a limited time structure and budget, a very untimely chest infection stopped progress for a couple of days, stripping Clarke of voice and hours. This almost brings more urgency to the songs, with that sense of movement and stillness neighbouring closely together, Clarke’s voice (sometimes echoed on backing vocals too) piercing the ear with words about grief, love, humanity and your place in the world.
The lyrics are dreamlike, words that could be poured over and studied for years to come, lines that pop and catch the listeners attention like no other. “Love is but a thousand little cuts” Clarke declares on ‘Bushes, Briars and Thorns’, accepting that life and love can be a struggle, but by frequently taking the paths less taken, Clarke shows the way to accept this and find the strength to either carry on or change.
“That’s what songs can do: find connection in the dark, be a little spark of light,” Clarke says. The opening one-two salvo of ‘We’re Not Coming Back’ and ‘What Do I Do’ prove to be counterpoints to one another, where at first you’re told you know the answer before being asked that if anything’s possible, where could one possibly begin?
There have been several high points in Clarke’s career, none more so than since she took the reins herself, but Far From Nowhere will go down as an all-timer. It’s an artistic statement on motherhood, love, creativity and friendship which is up there with anything Adrienne Lenker has delivered away from Big Thief and Bruce Springsteen did so many years ago on Nebraska. Far From Nowhere wears its imperfections on its sleeve and delivers its tales with an honesty and openness that deserves to be rewarded. Whether it will be remains to be seen. As Clarke says herself “it’s not for me to be diverted by whether my output has any place in popularity”.
It’s a final quarter entry into the albums of the year though. For those of us who embrace music that presents itself as fragile, remember that there is steel beneath the surface. The album closes with ‘A Slow Burn’, a song about the creative process itself and how to cling to the embers of the artistic life if you feel you have something to say. We can only hope that Clarke continues to have things to say for a many years to come.