The King Of Nothing Hill

There are moments on The King of Nothing Hill where Barry Adamson sounds not unlike another Barry. Mr Adamson, however, is more the Octopus than the Walrus of Love, his tentacles reaching out and sucking all and sundry into his suave embrace.

Our hero gets all sweet and lowdown on current single, ‘Black Amour’. A sweeping, string-laden trip down into the dark heart of funk, this is smoother than Tele Savalas’ pate, funkier than an East Village mardi gras and as charming as a chat-up line from Huey Criminal. And to think this boy was born in Moss Side, Manchester.

In fact, Adamson plays the part of a modern-day Adonis to a tee, his honeyed tones and deep grooves guaranteed to make female knees resemble the Chivers quality control area. “Abandon hope, all ye who would enter when you cross that line”, he warns on ‘When Darkness Calls’. Meanwhile, ‘That Fool Was Me’ is a lovely slow burner, all sugary grooves and summery shimmers, with Adamson playing the part of the regretful ex, as he rues his wanton past.

There has always been a touch of the cinematic about Barry Adamson’s solo work: indeed, he has contributed music to soundtracks for both Derek Jarman and David Lynch. His love affair with that silver screen in his head continues on tracks like ‘Whispering Streets’, evoking the double-crossing, cooler-than-fuck hitmen of a James Ellroy or Elmore Leonard novel: “I don’t know how the gun got in my hand/ Five bullets, five names and a contract worth five hundred grand”. The closing, magnificent ‘Cold Comfort’ plays like a mini movie all of its own, albeit one directed by someone with the acerbic touch of Mike Leigh.