Album Review: Glen Hansard – This Wild Willing (Anti-)

The man behind The Frames and The Swell Season delivers, what turns out to be, a “difficult” fourth solo album.

It’s never a good sign when you find yourself struggling to listen to an album all the way through in one sitting. Yet, that’s what my experience was every time I approached This Wild Willing, the dark, sometimes ponderous, fourth album by Irish musician Glen Hansard.

If you’re familiar with Hansard’s work with The Frames, you know he makes (mostly) joyous, anthemic music sung with a full-throated, crowd-rousing voice.

But that Glen Hansard is nowhere to be found here.

Instead, he’s taken his singing voice down to a whisper, and rather than a traditional band of guitar, bass and drums backing him, he’s employed all manner of exotic instruments including employing the services of Iranian musicians the Khoshravesh Brothers.

The album was written and, except two tracks, recorded in France. Clearly Hansard is working outside of his comfort zone and he is to be commended for taking some musical risks. I’m just not sure his audience will be willing to follow him down this particular musical rabbit hole.

The album opens with I’ll Be You Be Me, a track that begins with dark, grainy electronic sounds and an ominous bass line sampled from Queen’s track, Cool Cat. Things begin quietly and creepy and as piano, strings and more electronic noise enters the mix, grows to a thunderous climax, Hansard’s whispered, desperate voice turning into a scream.

Don’t Settle, the following track, uses a similar motif…cascading piano notes and Hansard’s voice kicks things off, but eventually a full band and strings join in building to another dramatic cacophony.

I had to chuckle when Fool’s Game, the third song, began. It reminded me so much of Bonnie Tyler’s It’s A Heartache. But Hansard isn’t kidding around. This is another one that starts quietly and then explodes to a mighty crescendo. Then, as a coda, we hear an operatic female voice sing in what sounds like Arabic.

Then, Race To The Bottom finds Glen’s whispered voice taking on characteristics of late-period Leonard Cohen. Coincidentally, Cohen’s former guitar player, Javier Mas, plays Spanish guitar on this and most tracks. This one features Hansard’s most eclectic-sounding music yet, with the Iranian brothers contributing at the end.

The second half of the album steers away from the sonic drama of the previous half and depends more on acoustic guitar and piano.

Brother’s Keeper, with its warm acoustic instrumentation, reminded me of Tim Buckley, while Mary, a love song, features swooning violins and, a banjo.

But the album is bogged down by two, seven-minute tunes, Weight Of The World and Good Life Of Song.

The former contains a mumbled vocal performance by Hansard and a pastoral soundscape. Glen sounds totally self-absorbed, leaving his listeners behind.

The latter at least has a chorus, but despite lyrics referencing  “a joyful incantation”, it plods along, seemingly forever.

The album’s final song, Leave A Light, is (thankfully) shorter, but still moves at a snail’s pace.

If you’re still with him at the end, congratulations, it’s quite an accomplishment.

Marty Duda