If you've been tuning in to this writer's Roots-related reviews over the past two or three years, you'll probably already have got the message that there's a wealth of talent being nurtured up there in the vast Canadian wilderness.
W&H have been shining the spotlight on some of the lesser known provinces such as New Brunswick & Nova Scotia of late, but with DAVID CELIA'S second album, we're heading back to the bustling Toronto metropolis to celebrate yet another poised, well-crafted album straddling the Roots-Rock divide.
'This Isn't Here' is actually the follow-up to Celia's 2002 debut 'Organica'. There hasn't been the sort of frustration and stunted public expectation that's dogged the lengthy germination of albums by the likes of The Stone Roses or The Blue Nile, but despite the album's vague-sounding title, 'This Isn't Here' IS very much here and very much on the money. It's accomplished, if mostly easy-going stuff and its' rich melodicism has enough class to make it comfortably through the night.
Along the way, Celia has most bases admirably covered. Songs like the deceptively loose and candid 'Infinity' and the opening 'Evidently True' have a swingin', two-step flavour, while Country-style frills are embroidered by the likes of Jenny Omnichord (banjo) and Aaron Solomon (fiddle). Celia's vocal delivery has a likeable naivete about it, ensuring that lines like “I didn't mean to piss you off because I felt that way before†('Evidently True') come across with a wide-eyed innocence reminiscent of Jonathan Richman.
Elsewhere, tunes like 'She's a Waterfall', the title track and the dreamy-to-driving 'NYC' sway with the sort of poised sophistication you'd expect from Sir Macca or Crowded House's Neil Finn, while the groovy, harmony-laden 'Best Thing Ever' is one of those great Stateside pop moments that we can never quite replicate this side of the pond these days. However hard we seem to try.
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That leaves the acoustic confessional route, but Celia's no intention of being found wanting and songs like the self-deprecating and rueful 'Speak To Me' and the nostalgic pull of the closing 'Brothers' suggest Celia knows a trick or three about wringing the emotional pips from a simple acoustic guitar and close-miked microphone scenario.There's still room for the occasional surprise, too, and for this writer the honours are scooped by 'Plain To See' - with its' gorgeously dreamy mellotron and rural, XTC feel- which aches its' way into your heart without ever raising a sweat.
So it's with a certain predictability that your reviewer again tops and tails a positive review from a criminally lesser-known Canadian singer/ songwriter. 'This Isn't Here' may sound like an album title from a performer who's embarrassed to stumble into the spotlight, but it's a record of depth and tuneful resonance and it shouldn't be allowed to hide its' light beneath the Roots-Rock bushel.
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