It’s not an unremarkable history, I’ll say that. Born in Fife, Scotland and kickstarting his career in the late 60s under the pseudonym, John St Field, Leven staggered through the 70s and 80s, compromised by a heroin addiction, an inability to speak for two years, a protracted stint with a psychedelic/celtic punk band called Doll By Doll and a collaboration with Glen Matclock of the Sex Pistols. The years have however been kind and Leven has thus far released 12 albums of his own holistic medicine, including one album with Scottish crimewriter, Ian Rankin.
This month he releases, ‘Lovers At The Gun Club’ – a somewhat bizarre and unpredictable mish-mash of curmudgeonly Cash-alike country (‘Lovers At The Gun Club’, ‘Fareham Confidential’), lamentful urban ballads in the style of Jarvis Cocker, Porter Wagoner and Bob Lind (‘The Dent In The Fender And The Wheel Of Fate’, ‘My Old Home’), verse (”To Whom It May Concern’), lilting midwest folk (‘Woman In A Car’) and heaps of romantic neckin’ (‘Heart In My Soul’).
Likely to be a little too impulsive and peculiar for some tastes, Leven pursues a colourful trajectory, doing for the most part what he pleases and leaping like a Magpie from one vulnerable genre to the next. A camper-van journey down across A-road, firth and bridge and best summed up by the line, ‘I could hear the window blowin’ through my Somerfield carrier bag as I stood outside the burger van’.
An unexceptional life as lived in Northern Britain, refracted through the dusty looking glass of the Old West. And no, I am not talking about Argyll.
‘LOVERS AT THE GUN CLUB’ – RELEASED AUGUST 18TH 2008