Fuelled by their passion for Dylan Thomas, pastoral rockers Organ Morgan have carried the written word into the precinct of the rock format. In the midst of a pandemic pivoting towards agony and uncertainty, Organ Morgan are poised to sing their truths in a world that’s slowly losing any semblance of it.
Etched on the winds that has carried him through the trials of life, songwriter Harris McMillan singlehandedly captures the burdens that has aged many of us at this time of Corona. As if pre-empting the end of the virus, McMillan’s lyric conjures a world where change, conflict and comfort the equipment we bring as we cross our various stations. But rather than take David Bowie’s route into a more esoteric terrain, Organ Morgan use this opportunity as their vessel deep within the emotion of their craft.
Positioning themselves as something cerebral, yet effortlessly commercial, Organ Morgan are an act destined for the live stages, where pint and poetry have followed for centuries. Stories need audiences for their destination, but with the lack of a standpoint by which they can perform, the songs-particularly the sombre “Dracula’s Toothache- have to stand on their own. It’s a testament to the work that the mantras, meanings and aphorisms can easily stand by themselves.
KeyTrack: “Dracula’s Toothache”: Fittingly for a nation predicated on songcraft, story and soul, Organ Morgan’s excellent single was debuted on the National Irish Holiday, St.Patrick’s Day. It’s not our place to say whether or not the song is Irish in nature, but it’s certainly more in keeping with the values of this writer’s native land than the nursery rhymes strung together on Ed Sheeran’s risible “Galway Girl”. Jokes aside, the song represents a fable where aging seeps itself into the narrator’s everyday lexicon. New Sounds recommends a tissue, if you’re that type of person who likes to weep! The single was released via Broadside Hacks, a new label set up by Sorry’s Campbell Baum.
For Fans Of: Dylan Thomas, Paul Simon, John Cale, Father John Misty.
