BARRY MORGAN — The Touch Of You
He of the magic organ, MR BARRY MORGAN is kind of a big deal these days. However, PETE WALSH argues that you can’t really teach an old instrument new tricks.
King of the Safari Suit, used organ salesman extraordinaire, Barry Morgan has finally released his debut album, and it’s a doozy. He warps himself, his 1981 Hammond Aurora Classic organ, and his ridiculously resplendent moustache into the second decade of the 21st century — which is asking a bit much, really.
Looking like a strange lovechild of Borat and Ron Burgundy, the South Australian proprietor of Barry Morgan’s World of Organs is “kind of a big deal” insofar as his live performances are concerned. Unfortunately, in CD form the facial expressions, overtly crass cheesy smile and effeminate gestures of Mr Morgan can’t be seen, so what you’re left with is 35 minutes of completely instrumental ’80s organ music. It’s not so much hymn-like tunes, but more of an electric boogaloo with just a gentle hint of Afternoon Delight. Opening up with Big Bossa, The Touch Of You is a little sexy to begin with but as soon as the fractiously frustrating scales of Fanfare hit, the sleazy organ sounds start to feel rather seedy.
Once you’ve heard one organ song, you’ve heard them all. The Transylvanian timbre of Sands Upon My Hands is almost like a rehash of the greatest ’80s video game theme songs. While the drum machine backbeat is delightful, the synthetic organ overtures just don’t do it for me.
THE TOUCH OF YOU is out now. Find out more at www.barrymorgan.com.
PETE WALSH is an ex-Rave contributor and vagrant writer, as well as a bit of a literati, music aficionado and coffee snob.