Mick Flannery is an Irish songwriter. I specify "Irish", not because all of his songs have to do with Saint Patrick or leprechauns, but because his Irish upbringing is very much relevant to the texture of each tune, much in the same ways as early U2 work. The songs he sings are personal, as if each lyric were lifted right from the pages of Flannery's own journal, written by the diminishing glow of the moon with a cigarette burning unattended and a shot glass resting overturned on the bedside table. At least, that's how I imagine the setting. From the opening chords of "Safety Rope", you know what you're in for on White Lies. If you were a fan of Flannery's earlier work (which you should be), you'll hear a significant growth in style between Evening Train and this album. You don't have to listen hard at all to hear Flannery's influences coming through either: Tom Waits and Bob Dylan. All of these songs tell stories of the seedier variety, as the material of Tom Waits has for decades. Like myself, Flannery also had a taste for Charles Bukowski, which really isn't much of a stretch for a Tom Waits fan.
Often preferring somber over something more upbeat, Flannery's voice compliments the emotional longing of his lyrics. I get the sense that this is a guy who's had a lot of time to think about the kinds of questions most of us choose not to think about, such as considering the corruption of our own souls at our own hands. I am reminded a lot of Damien Rice, in that regard, as well as due to the soft female backing vocals on many of the tracks. I find that those types of more cerebral albums tend to take a little longer to sink in, but often result in a much deeper connection than a poppy-party-people-pleaser-type album. And that rule has certainly been true with White Lies. Mick's music is brooding, brash and beautiful. Can't recommend his stuff enough.
Highlights: "Safety Rope" and "California"
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