Songdog - Joy Street

The Guardian 40

(Junkyard Records)

If tortured folk troubadours are your bag, meet Welsh singer-songwriter Lyndon Morgans, AKA Songdog, who has been peddling his dark romanticism since the last century. His is a meticulously painted, boozy world of psychedelic encounters with loose women, narrated by showy, misunderstood men who could have been contenders, set to music that aims for the might of Bob Dylan, but often lapses into the lag of Del Amitri.

There are several affecting moments on his seventh album, however: the soaring melody that accompanies breaking sunshine on The Old Superhero; lyrics about cognac and balloons lifting sad parties in rented flats; and the comely guitar intros. But the Zimmerman delivery tires quickly, as do the references to women. These include a “20-quid whore / who looked older than an hour before”, druggy girls who get naked and sing for him and someone held so tightly that she begs: “Let it go, it hurts” on the miserably named Helldorado. Don’t fancy yours much.