Philip Lewin’s private-press Am I Really Here All Alone? has been tagged as loner folk, but that’s mainly because it was recorded solo and per the title relates to the pain of relationships. Instead of connecting as off-puttingly awkward or a pain in the ass to be around, its creator just seems like a guy who had some songs and could sing and play them, mostly on guitar, with the straightforwardness of his results low of fidelity but ultimately quite refreshing. Initially released in ’75 as signed edition of 300, this vinyl, compact disc, and digital reissue bears Tompkins Square’s reliable mark of quality.
Again, it’s invigorating to hear a recovered private-press LP unaccompanied by esoteric or otherwise severe attributes, though it should be emphasized that Am I Really Here All Alone?, the first of two albums Philip Lewin recorded for his own Gargoyle Records imprint in the mid-’70s apparently while residing in Toronto, is a substantially personal experience; it just doesn’t register to me as being strung out or even particularly strained.
Just as stimulating is how the music doesn’t merely represent a scaled down or tweaked reaction to prior or contemporary musical environments. In a stimulating twist, Lewin predicts future developments in the one-man folk scheme of things, his lo-fi scenario deepened by an occasional vocal similarity to John Darnielle of the Mountain Goats.
The likeness relates to general tone and a distinct resigned inflection, intermittent but detectable during opener “Unusual Day” and sharper in focus across the LP’s third track “Watercolors.” Elsewhere the resemblance is totally absent, with the succinct and fast-paced bluesy folk-club-ish business of “King of Queens” contributing to the set’s diverse sonic landscape and tying into the psych-leaning (and decidedly non-Mountain Goats-like) electric guitar motions of “Unusual Day.”
The gist of the opener positions Lewin as an easygoing folkster of the ’70s variety, and while the song concerns a breakup (containing the stinging line “I wonder if I ever really cared about you”), it also has an inviting sunny morning vibe that complements the melancholy-tinged drift of “Watercolors.” It’s followed by the more assertive strumming of the lengthier “Back Home to You,” the selection widening Lewin’s musical breadth from inside the inspirational model of Steve Goodman’s train song “The City of New Orleans.”
I’d be easy to believe Am I Really Here All Alone? was a demo recording for a prospective album that somehow never got made. In this regard “Touch” delivers the disc its centerpiece, with Lewin switching to piano and playing the instrument capably as the song, which stretches beyond six minutes, positively calls out for a sympathetic producer and arranger.
The lo-fi aura is particularly noticeable as Lewin’s voice reenters after an enticing instrumental passage. But although the potential for baroque strings and bright production values is difficult to deny, the song doesn’t suffer from incompleteness, instead cloaking the artist in the intimate. Scaling back a bit is the side-closing “Sweet Georgia’s Got to be Home Tonight,” described by Lewin as a move outside of his comfort zone as he attempts to “clone William Faulkner to Bobby Gentry.”
This give-and-take with outside influences underscores the healthiness of the record overall; cut by a then recent college graduate, the LP isn’t the byproduct of a guy spending too much time in the basement obsessing over the same six records. “Soul of the Lady” opens the flip with more laidback-ism, though an advantageous side-effect of the modest fidelity is an avoidance of the saccharine, and as the song progresses he gives the strings a good whacking.
Effective multitracking mingles acoustic strum with amped picking through most of the album, with the combination helping to boost “The Momentary Lie,” a solid folky dip that’s main problem is a premature fadeout. The needling (detractors might say noodling) electric leads intensify during “The Magic within You,” the song enhancing the biography of an album that doesn’t really need it; specifically, the tune was a commission for a benefit performance by Lewin’s friend, the magician Doug Henning.
It pretty much sounds like a tune written for an evening of magical activities, but the LP’s stripped-down orientation once again keeps things grounded. Maybe a little too much, as “The Magic within You” calls out for aural adornment. By contrast, “Time is Passing” benefits from its ramshackle nature, though it does sport some of the most intense electric playing on the album.
The title track provides a brief but proper close to a release that’s easily recommended to those in the market for unearthed ’70s obscurities. Heavy-duty fans might already know it from an earlier CD press, but as it was on the South Korean label Big Pink, perhaps not; the same enterprise issued Lewin’s ’76 follow-up, a decidedly non-loner undertaking featuring a full band and a female co-vocalist.
Based on a bit of internet investigation, Diamond Love and Other Realities blends soft-rock, peaceful folk, and agreeable psychedelic gestures, and it would make an attractive reissue. But Am I Really Here All Alone? is currently available, and it’s much more affordable in this edition than the $700 price tag attached to the original vinyl. While not a masterpiece, Lewin’s debut is fully deserving of reissue.
GRADED ON A CURVE:
B+
