- There was a time when Darren Hanlon was a mainstream figure in Australian music. In the mid 2000’s, his songs full of puns and wry observations were regularly on high rotation on triple J and played from the stages of large venues and festivals.
That really seems like another era now – a time when pop culture seemed a bit more self-aware and less serious; and when white men with guitars (even novel parlour guitars like Darren’s) dominated Australian music.
The world has moved on maybe, but Darren Hanlon has kept ambling along his own distinctive path – touring extensively overseas and releasing new music every few years. Life Tax is his 8th album, recorded during a stint as caretaker of an old church building and out on his own Flippin’ Yeah independent record label.
Life Tax doesn’t contain too many surprises – mostly gently plucked guitar soundtracking his quirky explorations of everyday life. The record is structured around two ten-minute songs, but Darren hasn’t gone all prog-rock epic on us – these are long folk ballads recounting the stories of his great uncle and auntie’s lifelong rural romance and his own ill-fated attempt at becoming a freight-hopping teenage hobo.
Lapsed Catholic, probably the closest Darren has come to a protest song, doesn’t quite rage against the religious establishment – it is full of fond recollections of his childhood as an altar boy in Gympie. There are a few duets with Zoe Fox and Leah Senior, whose wonderful old-timey country serenades add variety to an album that is pretty minimal musically.
It’s all very cute and twee, but it’s hard to dislike Darren Hanlon. His observational lyrics reveal a love of life even at its most mundane, and there is a general kind-hearted demeanour that exudes from the whole album. His droll and self-deprecating humour stops it from feeling overwrought.
The song that probably best sums up the Darren Hanlon vibe is Call On Me. Like an update of the Bill Withers classic of neighbourly care, but with wry and specific examples like “On your five day meditation retreat, they found a repressed memory and pulled back the sheet / Now your reality lies in tatters round your feet; call on me.” The final invitation to call is because “I’ll probably be awake anyway”.
You leave the album with the impression that Darren Hanlon really is the kind of guy you could call when in need of a friendly chat and some honest advice, or who you could drop in for a cup of tea and conversation full of jokes and anecdotes. It’s what I expected going into the album, but I mean that in a good way. Life is complex, but it’s reassuring to be able to rely on Darren Hanlon for simple, kind and whimsical observations of our complicated world in all its flawed wonder.
- Andy Paine.