As the seventies wore on and he descended into drug and alcohol abuse, Martyn's arrangements became more complex and less focused. But apart from Sugar Lump (a predictable blues number), every song on Bless The Weather is a jewel. It's nice to hear a folk jazz album that's genuinely beautiful without sounding gutless.

Everything comes together here in perfection -- Martyn's solid, gentle songwriting coupled with his unforgettable smokey voice and unique guitar style, accompanied by some of the finest players to EVER grace a recording studio (Richard Thompson on guitar and Danny Thompson on acoustic bass). Placed in the hands of the able producer/engineer team of John Wood and Joe Boyd, the recording itself is crystal-clear and uncluttered, letting Martyn's songs shine through with their own light...

...and what a light they possess! The album's opener, 'Go easy', sets the pace perfectly with Martyn pleading sofly, 'Life, go easy on me -- love, don't pass me by...' With so many other vocalists, Martyn's breathy delivery might seem affected -- but John makes it seem effortlessly natural. 'Bless the weather' continues in this vein, 'Bless the weather that brought you to me -- curse the storm that takes you home...' This album was recorded after John and his wife/singing partner Beverly Martyn split -- and longing, loneliness and pain naturally accompany such a rift, no matter the cause or the instigator.

There is hope in these tunes, too -- 'Walk on the water' is more upbeat and uplifting, and 'Just now' is one of the most endearing reflections on 'getting in touch' with onesself that I've ever heard. 'Head and heart' is probably the best known of all of Martyn's compositions, having also been covered by other artists. His original version here pales them all with it's heartfelt simplicity. 'Let the good times come' is a natural partner to the album's two opening tracks -- 'Back down the river' yearns for a fresh start.

'Glistening Glyndebourne' is simply breathtaking music --- this long instrumental piece gives John's listeners the first taste of his ground-breaking work with the echoplex, to be followed up often on successive recordings, and destined to stun many a listener at his live shows. I heard Martyn once here in America on a tour when he was the opening act for Yes. Much of his equipment hadn't arrived by showtime, but Martyn went on anyway, knocking the crowd -- ready to be showered with the progressive rock of the main act -- back on their heels, bringing the buzzing, cavernous hall to attentive silence. John, his acoustic guitar, the echoplex and his one-of-a-kind voice filled the arena as few complete bands can do, and demanded attention. He only played 3 numbers, but he stole the show.

The album concludes with a classic, 'Singin' in the rain' -- I've never heard anyone give this song a reading like this, and I've never been so moved by it. If hearing Alex sing the song in Stanley Kubrick's film ode to ultra-violence, A CLOCKWORK ORANGE, while savagely beating and kicking a helpless, bound victim threw the song into a bad light, Martyn's gentle rendition of it here will definitely clear the air.

This is a disc that could appeal to so many listeners -- folk, jazz, blues, even pop. All of these styles have a place in the unique character that is the music of John Martyn. This is most assuredly an album for anyone's 'desert island collection'.

[Helpful hint: together, John Wood and Joe Boyd made up Witchseason Productions, which brought us wonderful music by Nick Drake and others. Any recording with their name on it is going to be some of the best music from its era.]