Yeah, the title of Dylan’s debut album, Cruel to be Kind could be an insight into how we conduct our reviews, but being as I missed him yet again when he came to the Southgate, I should really be kind to be kind, asides, there’s nothing in this album to be cruel about….
My excuse was festival season, I was invited to The Devizes Scooter Rally the weekend his name was chalked upon the Gate’s blackboard. Looking for a skinhead friend of mine there proved impossible amidst a sea of skinheads! Without this turning pythonesque, dwelling on Dylan’s fantastic beard, the likes of which I’d have spotted him straight away with, should he have been there, allow me this brief Arthur Twosheds Jackson moment, and we’ll digress onto his music!
While listening I’m contemplating his very name suggests he comes from a musical family, or fans of the Magic Roundabout at the very least. It could be duly noted Dylan these days may well be a name given by parents with no clue to the legendary folk singer, a Dylan the age of Dylan Smith would suggest otherwise. This I haven’t asked him about, I’m making an assumption here, because this album is so eclectic, yet from whichever angle a track off it comes at you, it’s proficiently delivered with the seemingly ease to justify the notion Dylan Smith was born for this.
The title track opens this fifteen track musical marathon. It’s the nice, smooth and breezy folk-rock I was expecting, it’s Tom Petty, vocally, and with a similar hook. However the one time I did meet Dylan, which was when he was backing Becky Lawrence on guitar at the Female of the Species annual fundraiser in Seend, and I asked him to summarise his sound, he was rather generalised and heterogeneous about pigeonholing it. The intro of the second tune, Play the Game, was unexpected, until I recalled that conversation. I mean, through to its conclusion it holds a strong wailing guitar riff, but it kicks in as if I’m about to listen to Orbital, or some other nineties downtempo slice of electronica. It is at this conjunction you accept Cruel to be Kind is going to be a ride through musical influences.

Then, we’re back into rock citing Nashville country by the third tune, with a drifting sound and a reminiscing theme. If you were a nipper in 1983, as is its title, you’ll nod, and perhaps think the witty cultural references are wicked (in the eighties ironic slang usage of the term!) younger listeners may need Google, but I’d predict the effect remains the same; this tune celebrates the diversity Of Dylan’s work, and his ability to apply ruminative narrative.
By now you’re immersed in Dylan’s world, and willing to accept whatever he deems appropriate to throw at you. Check You Out, is quirky and the tad saucy of ZZ Top in content, followed by a beautiful ballad, or two, but we’re only halfway through and anything could happen. Memory Lane again focuses on retrospective reminiscences, with a bouncy acoustic number, I’m awash thinking of classic influences, yeah, Dylan and Cash, but the experimental side of the Beatles and Beach Boys too, and this one finishes on a whistle akin to Otis sitting on the dock of the bay.
In conclusion to citing influences, a Nils Lofgren of Trowbridge, and as a guitar teacher too I guess Dylan needs to be diverse, perhaps, but there’s so much going on here, stop the press; nine tunes in and Living Fantasy is funky electronica pop! Then whoa, bluegrass supersedes, and we’re back in Dylan’s comfort zone, this Tom Petty folk-rock rings throughout, but there’s no accounting where he’ll go next. A man after my own heart, I feel, as I couldn’t do desert island discs, couldn’t bear to reduce myself to a few genres, let alone a few albums!
But there’s thoughtful prose, genius writing, and adroit guitar work throughout this musical melting pot, even if Dylan can’t decide on moderating to a subgenre; his style is unique and detectable from whatever pigeonhole you care to plonk a particular tune into. The album drifts along in similar fashion to the close, it’s beguiling, yet as there’s a lot of it, you begin to take Dylan’s talent for granted, until it’s over. There is a pocket of variation when Lucie Reyonds vocals on a song called Something to Share. Now, if this one doesn’t standalone to prove the wealth of Dylan’s virtuosity in composure and writing, nothing will.
It’s wonderfully enchanting, as is the album, an interestingly diverse treasure you’ll return to and discover more to, like gags in an Airplane movie! Now who’s taking us back to 1983, and if we could, Dylan, just return to your fantastic beard for a moment?!
For more info on Dylan Smith and to buy the album, see Dylan’s Website HERE

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