{"product_id":"marlon-williams-make-way-for-love","title":"Make Way For Love (Vinyl LP)","description":"\u003cp\u003e“Singer-songwriter” The single most used hyphenate in music? Probably, and New Zealand’s \u003cstrong\u003eMarlon Williams\u003c\/strong\u003e nailed the first part of that descriptor at an early age. He’s quite simply got one of the most extraordinary, effortlessly distinctive voices of his generation—a fact well known to fans of his first, self-titled solo album, and his captivating live shows. An otherworldly instrument with an affecting vibrato, it’s a voice that’s earned repeated comparisons to the great \u003cstrong\u003eRoy Orbison,\u003c\/strong\u003e and even briefly had \u003cstrong\u003eWilliams,\u003c\/strong\u003e in his youth, consider a career in classical singing, before realizing his temperament was more Stratocaster than Stradivarius.\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eBut it’s the second half of the term, songwriter, that has bedeviled the artist, and into which he has grown exponentially on his second album,\u003cem\u003e\u003cstrong\u003e Make Way For Love,\u003c\/strong\u003e\u003c\/em\u003e out in February of 2018. It’s \u003cstrong\u003eMarlon Williams\u003c\/strong\u003e like you’ve never heard him before—exploring new musical terrain and revealing himself in an unprecedented way, in the wake of a fractured relationship. \u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eLike any good New Zealander, \u003cstrong\u003eWilliams\u003c\/strong\u003e doesn’t boast or sugarcoat: songwriting is still not his favorite endeavor. “I mean, I find it ecstatic to finish a song,” he explains. “To have done one doesn’t feel like an accomplishment as much as a relief and maybe a curiosity, you know? To have come through to the other side and have something. But it certainly always feels messy.” In the past, his default approach to was storytelling. On 2015’s \u003cstrong\u003eMarlon Williams,\u003c\/strong\u003e the musician took a cue from traditional folk and bluegrass, and wove dark, character-driven tales: \u003cem\u003eHello Miss Lonesome, Strange Things\u003c\/em\u003e and \u003cem\u003eDark Child\u003c\/em\u003e. But when it came to sharing his own life in song, he was more reticent. “I’ve always had this sort of hang up about putting too much of myself into my music,” he admits. “All of the projects I’ve ever been in, there was a conscientious effort to try and have this barrier between myself and the emotional crux of the music. I’ve loved writing characters into my songs, or at least pretending that it wasn’t me that it was about.”\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eSensing that people wanted more \u003cstrong\u003eMarlon\u003c\/strong\u003e from \u003cstrong\u003eMarlon,\u003c\/strong\u003e though, on album number two he was determined to deliver. And while he’s still a firm believer in the art of cover songs—his live shows regularly feature covers of songs by artists ranging from \u003cstrong\u003eTownes Van Zandt\u003c\/strong\u003e to \u003cstrong\u003eYoko Ono—Williams\u003c\/strong\u003e wanted the new record to be all original material. By the autumn of last year, with a recording deadline looming the following February, it was crunch time for the musician, a reflexive procrastinator. “I hadn’t written for two years!” he recalls. What was needed was a lyrical spark. A triggering event, perhaps. As it turns out, life delivered just that.\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eIn early December, \u003cstrong\u003eWilliams\u003c\/strong\u003e and his longtime girlfriend, musician \u003cstrong\u003eAldous (Hannah) Harding,\u003c\/strong\u003e broke up—the end of a relationship that brought together two of Down Under’s most acclaimed talents of recent years, who’d managed to navigate the challenges of having equally ascendant—though separate—careers, until they couldn’t. While personally wrenching, the split seemed to open the floodgates for \u003cstrong\u003eWilliams\u003c\/strong\u003e as a writer. “Then I wrote about fifteen songs in a month,” he recalls. The biggest challenge? Condensing often complex, conflicted emotions and doing them justice. “Just narrowing the possibilities into like, a three-minute song makes me feel dirty”, he explains. Also, not making a breakup record that was too much of a downer. “I had a lot of good friends saying, ‘Don’t worry about sounding too sad,’” he says. “They were saying, ‘Just go with it.’”\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eSure enough, while \u003cem\u003e\u003cstrong\u003eMake Way For Love\u003c\/strong\u003e\u003c\/em\u003e draws on \u003cstrong\u003eWilliams’\u003c\/strong\u003e own story, in remarkably universal terms it captures the vagaries of relationships that we’ve all been through: the bliss (opener\u003cem\u003e Come To Me\u003c\/em\u003e); ache (\u003cem\u003eLove Is a Terrible Thing\u003c\/em\u003e, a ballad that likens post-breakup emptiness to “a snowman melting in the spring”); nagging questions (\u003cem\u003eCan I Call You, \u003c\/em\u003ewhich wonders aloud what his ex is drinking, who she’s with, and if she’s happy); and bitterness (\u003cem\u003eThe Fire Of Love, \u003c\/em\u003ewhose lyrics \u003cstrong\u003eWilliams\u003c\/strong\u003e says he “agonized over” more than any).\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eOn \u003cem\u003eParty Boy, \u003c\/em\u003eover an urgent, moody gallop that recalls his last album’s \u003cem\u003eHello Miss Lonesome, \u003c\/em\u003e\u003cstrong\u003eWilliams\u003c\/strong\u003e conjures the image (a composite of people he knows, he says) of that guy who has just the stuff to keep the party going ‘til dawn, and who you might catch “sniffin’ around” your “pride and joy.” There’s\u003cem\u003e Beautiful Dress, \u003c\/em\u003eon which \u003cstrong\u003eWilliams\u003c\/strong\u003e seems to channel balladeer \u003cstrong\u003eElvis\u003c\/strong\u003e on the verse and the Future Feminist herself, \u003cstrong\u003eAhnoni,\u003c\/strong\u003e on a lilting, tremulous hook; in contrast, the brooding\u003cem\u003e I Didn’t Make A Plan, \u003c\/em\u003ehas \u003cstrong\u003eWilliams\u003c\/strong\u003e offer a deep-voiced delivery akin to \u003cstrong\u003eLeonard Cohen\u003c\/strong\u003e –– unusual for the singer –– as he callously, matter-of-factly tosses a fling aside, just cuz. It’s brutal, but so, sometimes, is life. And there’s \u003cem\u003eNobody Gets What They Want Anymore, \u003c\/em\u003ea duet with \u003cstrong\u003eHarding,\u003c\/strong\u003e recorded after the two broke up, with \u003cstrong\u003eWilliams\u003c\/strong\u003e directing \u003cstrong\u003eHarding’s\u003c\/strong\u003e recording via a late-night long distance phone call. “…[I]t made the most sense to have her singing on it,” he says. “But it wasn’t that easy to make that happen.” And yes, these days, the two are good. “We finally got to talk it out,” he adds. “We still love each other very much.”\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u003cstrong\u003eWilliams\u003c\/strong\u003e flipped the script recording-wise as well. After three weeks of pre-production five doors from his mother’s house in his native Lyttelton, New Zealand (for several years, \u003cstrong\u003eWilliams\u003c\/strong\u003e has made his home in Melbourne) with regular collaborator \u003cstrong\u003eBen Edwards\u003c\/strong\u003e—“really the only person I’d ever worked with before”—\u003cstrong\u003eWilliams \u003c\/strong\u003eand his backing band, \u003cstrong\u003eThe Yarra Benders,\u003c\/strong\u003e then decamped 7000 miles away, to Northern California’s Panoramic Studios, to record with producer \u003cstrong\u003eNoah\u003c\/strong\u003e \u003cstrong\u003eGeorgeson,\u003c\/strong\u003e who’s helmed baroque pop and alt-folk gems by \u003cstrong\u003eJoanna Newsom, Adam Green, Little Joy\u003c\/strong\u003e and \u003cstrong\u003eDevendra Banhart.\u003c\/strong\u003e “I was a really big fan of those\u003cstrong\u003e Cate Le Bon\u003c\/strong\u003e records he did [\u003cem\u003e\u003cstrong\u003eMug Museum, Crab Day\u003c\/strong\u003e\u003c\/em\u003e],” \u003cstrong\u003eWilliams\u003c\/strong\u003e says. “I was obsessed with those albums.” \u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eIf the idea in going so far from home to make the new record was to shake things up and get out of his Kiwi comfort zone, \u003cstrong\u003eWilliams\u003c\/strong\u003e succeeded—to the point where at first he wondered if he’d gone too far. “The first couple of days I nearly had a breakdown,” he recalls. “Just cause I got there and Noah was being extremely passive as a producer.” While the two had met before, they hadn’t really talked out how the recording process would work before the sessions began. “There was this yawning sense of, ‘Oh shit! I’m actually gonna steer this thing,’” he says. “I was like, ‘I wish we’d talked about it a little bit more’ and worked out exactly how the dynamic was going to work.” \u003cstrong\u003eWilliams\u003c\/strong\u003e is a worrier. But he needn’t worry. He and \u003cstrong\u003eThe Yarra Benders \u003c\/strong\u003eand \u003cstrong\u003eGeorgeson\u003c\/strong\u003e—who over twelve days of recording did bring sonic touches of his own—have, in \u003cem\u003e\u003cstrong\u003eMake Way For Love\u003c\/strong\u003e\u003c\/em\u003e, a triumph on their hands. \u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eThe record also moves \u003cstrong\u003eWilliams\u003c\/strong\u003e several paces away from “country”—the genre that’s been affixed to him more than any in recent years, but one that’s always been a bit too reductive to be wholly accurate. Going back to his high school years band The Unfaithful Ways and his subsequent \u003cem\u003e\u003cstrong\u003eSad But True \u003c\/strong\u003e\u003c\/em\u003eseries of collaborations with fellow New Zealander \u003cstrong\u003eDelaney Davidson,\u003c\/strong\u003e and on through his first solo LP, \u003cstrong\u003eWilliams\u003c\/strong\u003e has proven himself plenty adept with country sounds, but also bluegrass, folk, blues and even retro pop. “I think I’ve always been sort of mischievously passive when people use that term [“country”] to describe me,” he says. “I like letting labels be and just sort of just play that out.” \u003cem\u003e\u003cstrong\u003eMake Way For Love, \u003c\/strong\u003e\u003c\/em\u003ewith forays into cinematic strings, reverb, rollicking guitar and at least one quiet piano ballad, is more expansive—while still retaining, on \u003cem\u003eParty Boy\u003c\/em\u003e and \u003cem\u003eI Know A Jeweller, \u003c\/em\u003esome cowboy vibes, the record will likely invoke as many \u003cstrong\u003eScott Walker\u003c\/strong\u003e and \u003cstrong\u003eEnnio Morricone\u003c\/strong\u003e mentions as it does country ones. “I think just having the time,” he explains, “and having just finished a cycle of playing these quite heavily country-leaning songs for the last three or four years, and playing them a lot, has definitely maybe pushed me into exploring other things. \u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eIf “breakup record” is a trope—and certainly it is—then \u003cstrong\u003eMarlon Williams\u003c\/strong\u003e has done it proud. Like the best of the lot—\u003cstrong\u003eBeck’s\u003cem\u003e Sea Change,\u003c\/em\u003e Bon Iver’s\u003cem\u003e For Emma, Forever Ago,\u003c\/em\u003e Phosphorescent’s \u003c\/strong\u003eharrowing \u003cem\u003e\u003cstrong\u003eSong For Zula \u003c\/strong\u003e\u003c\/em\u003eand \u003cstrong\u003eJoni Mitchell’s\u003c\/strong\u003e masterpiece \u003cem\u003e\u003cstrong\u003eBlue\u003c\/strong\u003e\u003c\/em\u003e (written perhaps not coincidentally, following her own breakup with another gifted musician) \u003cem\u003e\u003cstrong\u003eMake Way For Love\u003c\/strong\u003e\u003c\/em\u003e doesn’t shy away from heartbreak, but rather stares it in the face, and mines beauty from it. Delicate and bold, tender and searing, it’s a mightily personal new step for the Kiwi, and ultimately, on the record’s final, title track, \u003cstrong\u003eWilliams\u003c\/strong\u003e dusts himself off and is ready to move forward. Set to a doo-wop backdrop and in language he calls “deliberately archaic”, that superb voice sings: “Here is the will\/ Here is the way\/ The way into love\/ Oh, let the wonder of the ages\/ Be revealed as love. \u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u003cstrong\u003eTracklist:\u003c\/strong\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp style=\"padding-left: 40px;\"\u003e1. Come To Me\u003cbr\u003e2. What's Chasing You\u003cbr\u003e3. Beautiful Dress\u003cbr\u003e4. Party Boy\u003cbr\u003e5. Can I Call You\u003cbr\u003e6. Love Is A Terrible Thing\u003cbr\u003e7. I Know A Jeweller\u003cbr\u003e8. I Didn't Make A Plan\u003cbr\u003e9. The Fire Of Love\u003cbr\u003e10. Nobody Gets What They Want Anymore\u003cbr\u003e11. Make Way For Love\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u003ciframe title=\"YouTube video player\" src=\"https:\/\/www.youtube.com\/embed\/zchdH3zAYAE?si=o4cK-M5-6eT1YEpS\" height=\"315\" width=\"560\" allowfullscreen=\"\" referrerpolicy=\"strict-origin-when-cross-origin\" allow=\"accelerometer; autoplay; clipboard-write; encrypted-media; gyroscope; picture-in-picture; web-share\" frameborder=\"0\"\u003e\u003c\/iframe\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003c!----\u003e","brand":"Universal","offers":[{"title":"Vinyl LP","offer_id":42741264515134,"sku":"DOC137LP","price":49.0,"currency_code":"NZD","in_stock":true}],"thumbnail_url":"\/\/cdn.shopify.com\/s\/files\/1\/0197\/1326\/files\/a0616054986_10.jpg?v=1719439780","url":"https:\/\/flyingout.co.nz\/products\/marlon-williams-make-way-for-love","provider":"Flying Out","version":"1.0","type":"link"}