The world turns, wildfires burn and winter freezes, feeding metaphors and narrative. Flooding is another. Ill-timed coastal storms push the ocean tide into bays and rivers, streams and creeks, and eventually onto streets, washing away homes, SUVs and even people. Soul transmutation, in short, is tricky—or, to be precise, how we speak of it is. Whether the spiritual reincarnation that Eastern religions embrace or the religious awakening that evangelical Christians espouse, or the more mundane personal change the rest of us contemplate, to claim that we’re reborn is a hefty and all too often empty boast.
Leave the tropes and allegories alone. Growth begets wisdom and wisdom, in the best of worlds, begets growth. We live. We stumble. Some glean lessons from the fumbles. Some don’t. A scan of history reveals that truth is not self-evident to all, with many holding onto the lies they tell themselves out of desperation if not fear. Self-actualization generally doesn’t occur in a night, but over years.
The full-length debut from UK-based Mac Lloyd, aka Robert McLeod, blends soul with the blues, hip-hop, and even elements of jazz and Americana, all while he turns a mirror on himself. In the press release, he explains that “Hold Fast is about my progression as a person and a musician through the years. ‘Hold fast’ is the McLeod family motto and has multiple meanings that apply to the narrative of this album. One of which being to persist in something despite facing adversity and hardship. Since becoming Mac Lloyd I have faced many changes and challenges in life, overcoming addiction, losing loved ones and family members, meeting a lifesaver of a partner, becoming a father, becoming homeless whilst trying to raise a family, etc. but throughout all of this I continued to create and release music. Besides my incredible family, it was one of few things that helped me continue and process everything that has happened, or was going to. The album centres around a myriad of mental health matters and how substantial events can help to shape us or break us down as people”.
As with most strong albums, Hold Fast plays out almost as if one long piece, with the starts and stops akin to sonic chapter breaks. It opens as if a Sergio Leone western, with a grizzled cowboy whistling his way across a sun-drenched desert, but soon spurs itself into a slightly faster gait. “Over the Mill” delves into depression, temptation and addiction—and turns those struggles into a smart metaphor for how, to the detriment of the people, corruption runs amok in government. His gritty baritone rises and falls, presses and stretches, throughout.
The brief “Falling Apart” slows the tempo, while the storm clears from his vocals. The two-part “Herb Garden” digs up some soulful grooves while urging his brother not to give up; whether he’s speaking to another or himself, it’s a taut reminder that trying times are a part and parcel of the modern age. Lending a hand to those in need should be, too.) “Inner Monologue” leans on hip-hop flourishes and gruff vocals, while he admits that he’s “praying for an angel to save me.” The taut “King of Self-Sabotage” trades in the blues and more, reminding me of Garland Jeffreys; he confesses, “I’m not trying to reinvent the wheel/I’m just trying to make you feel something.” In that respect, he succeeds again and again on the album. The heartfelt “Bleed Together,” about the love he’s found with his partner, echoes the soul music of the 1970s, for instance, with the harmonies (courtesy of Wilder Vocals) conjuring dark clouds giving way to the sun.
“Heading North (In the Mornin’)” opens as a spoken word that gives way to Ennio Morricone and “Tumbling Tumbleweeds.” The album closes with “Home,” an unadulterated shot of neo-soul that celebrates the joys of hearth, home, and love.
(The album is available to buy via Bandcamp.)
The track list:
The Old Grey Cat 