Strangers Again

Album review

From the first seconds of "Alone in the Morning Alley," you can tell that Hemi Hemingway (the moniker of Shaun Blackwell) has a story for us.  And with that first strum of '60s twang, we are transported. You make your way through a dark underground dive bar, straining your eyes through the cigarette smoke, to see the forlorn crooner himself, centre stage. Hemingway opens Strangers Again as if he is speaking to you as an old friend: "If I think about it, I dunno, I'd say solitude is a curse, but then again, so is love." You can't help but stop in your tracks.

Hemingway is a showman in the grandest troubadour traditions.  Across Strangers Again, he embodies rock 'n' roll charisma and takes us along on the journey of a starry-eyed dreamer grappling with the jolt of confronting destiny head-on and seeking their place amidst the tumultuous chaos of existence. This vintage debut shifts from slow-burning ballads, found in the likes of the steamy haze of "Dreamin' of You," into tracks like "Green Envy" that can't help but induce a euphoric sway. The fascinating use of digital instrumental elements, like that in "January Lake #3," aids in making the album feel nostalgic and classic but not outdated.  

Beyond the love-stricken crooner story of Hemi Hemmingway, there is also a beautiful sense of depth to Blackwell's craft. Sung in both Māori and English and penned between London and New Zealand, Strangers Again also captures the shifting urban tensions of these two vastly different destinations.

Intertwining love, loss and the boundless journey of returning to one's root, Hemmingway's undeniable charisma and presence anchors the album and paints a poignant picture of a fully realized artist, told through the age-old ballads of the human experience. Truly best experienced from top to bottom, and of course, a Qobuzissime! © Jessica Porter-Langson/Qobuz