Elford, Davies and Baldini

Mention that a band is led by a vicar and the stereotypes begin to fly. Preachy, condescending, naive. While the realms of gospel have added valuable elements to the pantheon of rock, most people will meet any rock with a religious foundation with skepticism and disdain. The archetype of the Christian rock songwriter is one of a narrow, ignorant mind and blind unwavering devotion to religious absolutism. The house bands of Bible Belt mega-churches come to mind. However, as countless pundits, critics, and writers have noted through the centuries, a true disciple of Jesus would value welcoming a neighbour over siding with a faction, acceptance of others over persecution for differing beliefs, service over self-righteousness.

The music of south-east UK-based Elford, Davies, and Baldini is largely inspired by its frontman Keith Elford's position as a vicar. Yet unlike many of its Christian ilk, the band casts aside sanctimony and dogma, focussing instead on the humble and magnanimous nature of living a life of faith. The band's main inspiration is the protest folk and rock of the 70s with Elford using that music of revolution to deliver ardent criticisms of those who prey on disparity to divide us. “We've tried to use the styles of classic guitar-based rock music with a focus on songwriting to say something about very contemporary issues, notably the COVID pandemic, Brexit, and the rise of populist conservatism – which we're not too keen on. We have a different vision. But there are also love stories, dreams, escapism and even a little religious satire.”

Ominous bells swirling with digital distortion usher in the opener 'The End is Nigh'. The band crash in together settling in on a nicely pocketed groove with tremolo giving it all a frontier obstinance. Elford delivers a wearisome warning of storms to come. Despite some biblical language, the song is a very au courant assessment of the challenges of modern life. He croons “Truth is gonna get ya/Love is gonna get ya/Hope is gonna get ya/Joy is gonna get ya/You'll be left on the ground/Not making a sound” to the glibly hopeful tune. 'This Fair Land' gets funky introducing some great New York horns courtesy of Christina al-Wakil, spanking rhythm guitar, and a wailing lead tying it all together.

Elford explores the notion of seeing in only black and white on 'Sinners and Saints', taking on the character of the absolutist, the new contrarian conservative. He sarcastically declares “We've got the truth, no room for debate/In this life, there's only sinners and saints/No need for reason, for reason or rhyme/We've got a feeling as certain as time”. The cadence is right on par with Lennon's 'Cold Turkey' with Davies mid-neck fills playing call and response to Elford's voyeuristic commentary on the “us and them” nature of our current zeitgeist. An intelligent and biting commentary on our political division but one that sadly seems to recur throughout time. His sardonic tone ramps up even further on W.W.J.D. The track roasts the violent crusade mentality, religious homophobia, and the pious ignoramus preacher who doesn't see the world beyond his parish. The snarky send-up of those who miss Jesus's true message features the late Doug Lipinski on guitar who had a hand in crafting several tracks on the record before his passing. The infectiously catchy harmonized guitar duet mid-song would make Thin Lizzy proud. 'After the Flood' rounds out the album with more biblical touchstones that have echoes in the landscape of 2020. Life returning to the world after a global calamity.

The music of Elford, Davies, and Baldini harnesses the powerful imagery of Christianity's guiding text but sheds the pseudo-pietism for a true embracing of Jesus's core principles of unity, peace, and understanding. The band is tight but the grooves are loose in this homage to the great groove rock of the 70s. An album to make you re-examine your notions of rock with a God-fearing sensibility.