Andrew Kilbride
Senior A&E Writer
Making an album function as a commentary for the present can be a risky business. This isn’t to say that this is an invalid form of art. Rather, works defining a certain day and age risk becoming hodgepodge of references and cultural cues that don’t carry over to future generations. Now that we live in a media culture that seems to move a mile-a-minute, it feels doubly true, as if most artists would shy away from such a task out of its sheer futility, but Richard Dawson is not most folk songwriters. Musically and lyrically, Dawson’s always thrived in creating meaning out of moments that feel intentionally awkward and unpredictable, which is just part of why his new album “2020” is such a phenomenal snapshot of contemporary malaise set to song.
Dawson’s lyrics follow a very similar formula to his previous album, 2017’s “Peasant,” where each song functioned as individual character studies of ordinary people in medieval society. He applies a similar emphasis on each protagonist’s everyday struggles and concerns, but this time his focus is solely on present figures who inevitably resemble either yourself or people you know. A lot of them are directly relatable like the disaffected white collar schlub working at a “seething viper’s nest” in “Civil Servant” and the man who takes up “Jogging” to overcome crippling anxiety. Others like “Heart Emoji” and “Black Triangle” go to darker places, focusing on different characters who are ultimately done in by their alienated rage and unhealthy, self-isolating obsessions, respectively.
His experimental folk sound has never been lacking in originality. On “2020” he fuses so many genres that it’s nigh impossible to assign a singular genre that covers everything on here. It wouldn’t be accurate to say he’s changed his sound — the songs all bear obvious stylistic resemblance to his previous work, so much as he’s incorporated a lot of unexpected influences, all of which work far more than they should. His claustrophobic, alienated songs about the digital age fittingly use a diverse array of digital sounds. These jams range from the soulless robotic auto-tuned vocals telling Amazon workers to “increase productivity” on “Fulfillment Centre” to the spacy synths in the “Black Triangle” intro, which would be right at home on a 70’s rock album. Just as unexpectedly, it then makes way for a really Tom Waitsian bluesy shuffle, but that’s beside the point.
“2020” should absolutely cement Dawson as one of the decade’s most unique and inventive musical talents, assuming he hasn’t been already. Artists who are willing to sound awkward and uncomfortable are rare for a reason, but Dawson is uniquely good at not only creating these moments but making them purposeful and endearing. If I’m listening to this twenty years from now, I may think that naming a song “Heart Emoji” is a bit much. If somehow Dawson’s “2020” doesn’t reflect the reality of 2040, I have a hard time believing I wouldn’t get a kick out of the brilliant song writing and character vignettes