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I have to admit a certain amount of inherent bias here, since Too Much Love is the free album that comes with issue four of Son and Foe; and truth be told, the original impetus to review it came from a polite request by Jeremiah. But, in all honestly, cross my heart and hope to develop a nasty rash, I would be yelling about this here slice of music even if it weren’t for all that - because it’s really damn good.

If you don’t know much about Mr Bobo then don’t worry - no-one else seems to either. Despite the success that his debut album has garnered for itself, the man remains something of a mystery. But it’s hard to blame him for wanting to keep something back after he’s poured so much of himself into his music; for Too Much Love is pure biography, a concept album of sorts devoted entirely to documenting Harlan’s crumbling relationship with local artist Yvonne Bobo in microscopic detail. To quote from the sleeve notes:

“Welcome to my world
Six years of marriage sans god or government
All that’s left is this recording.
too much love is a collection of songs describing
the best and worst of loving Yvonne Bobo.
So it goes…”

Sounds a bit gloomy? Well, it isn’t. Okay, perhaps it is a little, but it’s also witty and charming and self-effacingly honest, even curiously upbeat. We know, after all, that Mr Bobo survived, and this album plays out as much as a testimony to that survival as it does a document of troubling times. A lot of artists can convey their emotional pains, but rarely can they back off enough to convey the heartbreak without descending into cliché or self-pity.

Too Much Love seems to be categorised as Memphis rock, and in so much as it’s rock from Memphis I guess that’s a fair enough description; but it suggests a certain provincialism that isn’t really present here. For the most part it’s a mix of rock and country, though that’s more of a backbone than a hard and fast category. There are obvious influences, or points of reference at least, but they span a broad range. In his gentler moments, as on opener Only Love, Harlan sounds something like Louis Armstrong; but when he shifts it up a gear (notably on the title track) he boasts a growl that Tom Waits would be proud of. When he speaks, as on the heart-wrenching, stripped-back Stop, he sounds like a New York era Lou Reed without the cynicism.

Such comparisons don’t really do Too Much Love, or its creator, much justice though. There isn’t anything terribly original about the music, though it’s well performed and immensely listenable; equally, Mr Bobo’s voice is evocative and characterful but not especially distinctive. But this isn’t an album that blows you away with innovation; it’s an album that draws you completely into its creator’s world and then leaves you feeling better and a little wiser when you come out the other side.

As for criticisms - well, at nine tracks and barely over half an hour Too Much Love is undoubtedly too short, and the ending feels abrupt. And of those nine tracks, Zippers and Jeans falls a little flat, or at least feels out of place. But that’s a minor quibble; it’s not a bad song, merely not as good as the tracks to either side of it.

Anyway, rather than try and sum up Too Much Love, here’s a quote from Harlan T. Bobo himself, which does the job nicely. If it rings any bells with you then you’ll probably dig his album:

“Part of the whole problem with love is that we start out thinking that it’s something that is supposed to make you feel good, but it’s not a lollipop - it’s a bleeding heart in a beaten bag. It’s supposed to teach you a lesson, it’s gonna take you through life, it’s not just gonna pacify.”

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