You know that feeling when you’re doing something mundane and – suddenly – a song stops you in your tracks?
But I mean, you drop everything because there’s something about it that makes you want to go back to it, again and again.
To me, that song is “You Came Along” from Benjamin Stewart’s new record, Pushing Daylight. And over one week later, I still can’t stop listening to it (and the rest of the album).
PART 183 OF “AM I EVER GONNA SEE YOUR FACE AGAIN?” A RANDOM COLLECTION OF UNKNOWINGLY OBVIOUS FACTS ABOUT AUSTRALIAN MUSIC SCENE
I don’t know how I missed the announcement that Benjamin (Ben) Stewart was releasing a new record.
I have a soft spot for his pop-punk/indie rock band, Slowly Slowly, and rad memories of seeing them live a few times in different venues around Melbourne.
Their Like A Version for triple j’s ‘Good Az Friday’ at Melbourne Town Hall in 2019 was an unforgettable experience, too. The band covered Bon Iver’s “Skinny Love” then. And taking on such an iconic song is no small feat.
I also blogged about Ben’s other project, Congrats, here. He’s one of the three Melbourne musos I’ve mentioned in that post who’ve been exploring new paths outside their original act.
Still, the release of Benjamin Stewart’s album under his name didn’t register on my radar when it dropped on April 12th. Until I heard “You Came Along” on a Spotify playlist the other week.
Photo from Bandcamp
When I skimmed over the songs on the playlist, I didn’t clock that Benjamin Stewart is that Ben Stewart from Slowly Slowly at first. But his vocals are unmistakable. As soon as the song came on, that was me for the day. I had it on repeat till my flatmates politely asked me to – literally – change the record.
The rest of the album is equally alluring. And it’s because the vibe is wholly different from the muso’s other projects. It’s more tender and vulnerable, almost understated at times, even in the case of the more energetic tracks, like “My Friend Rachel”. As a collection of introspective songs, it lends itself best to “a glass of wine at home with your loved ones” kind of situation.
I also recently listened to the entirety of Pushing Daylight on a longer drive in my car – the place Nick Cave regards as the best to experience recorded music. And it just slaps. I’m officially addicted to those guitar and vocal layers on “Projector”, for example.
So let me say (write?) that out loud. Benjamin Stewart is one of the most prolific, talented and versatile Aussie songwriters. And he manages to amaze me with EVERY. SINGLE. RELEASE.
He’s also one of the best lyricists I know and respect.
As a linguist, I sometimes dig deeper into the songs. I already noticed years ago that there was something unusual about the Slowly Slowly lyrics. After all, not everyone can tell a story about a relationship using a “Jellyfish” metaphor. And not every song about jellyfish goes on to be voted into the triple j’s “Hottest 100” countdown.
But on this solo record, the Melbourne muso truly outdid himself when it comes to that lyrical side. And I suspect that – deep down in his heart – he believes it, too. That’s why, along with the album, he’s released a poetry book.
Take another track from the album, “Blowing Kisses From The Airlock”. You’ll have the chorus stuck in your head in no time:
I had to find the worst in me
To get the best damn view this side of the Milky Way
It’s so funny all the things you miss
When you’re blowing kisses from the airlock
Honestly – if you can find a prettier line from a (love) song right now, let me know.
Despite Pushing Daylight showing a softer side to Benjamin Stewart as a songwriter, people are loving it. I’ve looked through the comments on the artist’s socials, and probably every song out of the 12 on the record has been named a favourite at least once.
No wonder. The album takes on a whole new meaning when you read what the muso sincerely shared about it:
“(…) just a reminder that everyday there is at least one moment where I think about giving it all up, I feel consistently out of my depth and so please if you are creating something, finish it and release it to the world; it’s all so important.”
This record is full of quotable, relatable songs. But it’s the closing track, “You Came Along”, that moved me the most. I guess we all reach that stage in our lives when we start appreciating subtle and uncomplicated things.
Theoretically, this song shouldn’t work at all, however.
It’s nearly 5.5 minutes long. With 15 verses, each contains four lines, with the last one always the same. Melodically speaking, the structure of the verses is repetitive as well.
Yet, the way the track is arranged and the way the vocals are delivered could not be more entrancing. I was crying towards the end on the very first listen.
It’s incredible how much you can say in three short lines, too. And I can’t get over how simply profound (yes, I mean that juxtaposition) the message in “You Came Along” is.
I could quote the whole thing here. But the opening (and closing) verse is a beautiful statement in itself:
I remember when I saw your face
And something filled an empty space
The Summer Solstice words escape
You came along
I haven’t heard such an inspiring and spellbinding album for a long time. Truly. Getting to know this fragile and affectionate side of one of your favourite artists is pretty special, too.
So – Ben, what an extraordinary treat!
I was behind on all my work projects because of Pushing Daylight for an entire week. But that’s okay. Some things are more important than others.
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Silly McWiggles. A blog about Aussie music. 