Taken in small doses, Cobh man Bill Coleman’s songs and his fey, world-weary voice bring a lot of aching charm to an often indifferent world, but over the full distance of an album he’s restricted by a fairly limited sound palette and tempos stuck in the lowest of gears.
‘Offer Up The Hope’, with echoes of Declan O’Rourke, has an attractive chiming appeal, but tends towards anonymity. ‘Devilette’ evokes Harvest-era Neil Young, its sparse piano setting a pensive mood. ‘The Pull Of The Pint’ plods alliteratively along until the sparkling ‘Say It Like You Mean It’ shows that Coleman actually has a pulse. But then ‘In My Head’ returns to bottom gear, although it does make a bit of a racket towards the end. The anguish of ‘First On Me’ invites repeat listens, but ‘Awake’ is another introspective dirge, lightened by counterpoint vocals and touches of harmony, while ‘Slow Hurricane’ demonstrates how a groove can nearly become a rut. The title track benefits from unison octave vocals that merely highlight the album’s defects.
I’ll Tear My Own Walls Down offers a testing array of thoughtful, somewhat downbeat performances and will reward those who apply themselves to it. But overall it could have done with more light and less shadow, more pace and less pathos.