Former The Eden House vocalist Louise Patricia Crane confronts her inner demons on her second solo album, with a cast that includes Jakko Jakszyk and Ian Anderson. Set against a backdrop of Celtic folklore and mythology, Netherworld finds the Northern Irish singer-songwriter embarking on a healing journey.
There’s a touch of the throwback about Louise Patricia Crane. Such a term is frequently used as a snide weapon of criticism – but Crane is a cerebral retreat to an era of Dylans and Mitchells where musicians readily purged personal trauma with soulful music to match. She possesses an honest fragility that provokes thought, without ever venturing into the mawkish world of oversharing or mere attention-seeking, in the current era of talent-compromised self-promoters.
Her work with dark proggers The Eden House led to her recording 2020 solo album The Deep Blue, which was unanimously lauded for its ambition. Given such palpable talent, it comes as quite a surprise to learn of her peculiar lack of self-confidence.
“I felt like I had things that I wanted to say and I had musical interests and influences that were never part of what I’d done before,” she says. “I really strongly felt that I had something to say in my own voice. I think that with each different thing that I did, each band, each time I wrote a song, there was always a little increase of self-belief and self-esteem.
“To be asked to do an audition for The Eden House and to then get a place within that band was quite a leap forward in terms of self-confidence. That was the moment when I thought, ‘Maybe I could do this. I can write songs. I can go forward with this.’ I started to think, ‘Gosh, maybe I’m not a piece of shit then!’”
Such a brutal self-assessment provides a glimpse into the psyche that drives the music on Crane’s latest release, Netherworld. Musically, it moves away from the more gothic influences that drove its predecessor towards a sound that hints at the musical whimsy that permeated the likes of Gabriel-era Genesis.
“There’s a difference between the two albums,” she agrees. “I think on this record, it’s very much progressive music. In particular, though, early Genesis, early Crimson, but also Thrak-era Crimson. David Sylvian’s Secrets Of The Beehive album and Joni Mitchell’s Chalk Mark In A Rainstorm were big influences.
“Trespass was one of the first LPs I bought, at a record fair in Belfast. I had no idea what the music would sound like but I thought the artwork was beautiful. I ended up falling in love with that ;and I’d always wanted to do something of my own that had an evocative, otherworldly quality to it. At the time I got that record I didn’t have any idea what prog was; it was just happenstance that I started loving that – and In The Court Of The Crimson King. Jazz is an influence on this record, too.”
Crane’s main musical collaborator is once again Crimson guitarist/vocalist Jakko Jakszyk. Yet for the first few months of writing, it was a fully solo venture as she adopted a hermit-like existence in her home studio, trying to craft the initial demos. “After Deep Blue, having not physically written or composed music myself, I was determined to be self-sufficient in a way that I hadn’t previously been,” she says.
Jakko Jakszyk just has this understanding of music that you can’t put your finger on. It’s just an emotional thing
“In 2020 I built a home studio over a period of about six months. I locked myself away and got to grips with Logic Pro [software]. I just started composing songs here at home. That really cost me my social life, but it was a sacrifice I’m glad I made. I was just following the emotion of the songs in my head. It was the most excited that I’ve ever been about writing songs. It was completely from the heart ,and it was so real.
“Jakko was on tour with Crimson, so it was a case of nailing him down when he had some time between tours. I’d send him my demos and we would discuss things and throw things back and forth. There were even some a cappella songs, because I wanted to see what he would build around that. We have a very strong connection with songwriting. Jakko just has this understanding of music that you can’t put your finger on. It’s just an emotional thing.”
For all the moments of musical elegance that fill tracks such as Tiny Bard –written about her departed cat Bosco and featuring Ian Anderson on flute – or The Red Room, it’s the frequently biting lyrical content that startles. Few artists can present lyrics that are as immensely cathartic, frequently dabbling in subjects that most songwriters would shy away from recounting in such a public forum. Delving into family history and personal demons, those personal recollections are deftly formed around fairy tales, as Crane explains.
“I basically wanted to create an album about my life,” she says. “I wanted to dare myself to be vulnerable and push myself further as a songwriter. I wanted this to be a full artistic vision. I’ve always been attracted to interplays – dark and light – and how that informs who we are; the human condition. In Celtic folklore, there’s the otherworld, which is like a spirit realm. For me, I wanted to explore the spirits of my own past and present. Some that are good and some that aren’t, of course.”
I’m definitely more aware of my vulnerabilities… it can be quite difficult facing up to those things
She continues: “One of the things I do confront on this record is my self-destructive nature. That peaked around the time that I was finishing Deep Blue, when I still lived in Cambridge. It spilled over into my life when I moved back over to Ireland in 2019. I acknowledged a masochistic side of myself and it forced me to go back and take stock of my life from the ground up. You know, nature versus nurture.
“I’m definitely more aware of my vulnerabilities, and at times it can be quite difficult facing up to those things. For years, I buried my head in the sand about certain things – but the only way to heal and improve is to see reality for what it is.”
This prompts the question of whether Crane has revealed too much, penning songs that are so close to the bone that performing them live could prove impossible without bowing to the emotion the lyrics will evoke. Is that something she’s aware of?
“Yeah, absolutely, and there are definitely a few on this album,” she says. “Little Ghost In The Room is about my relationship with my mother when I was a child. That was hard; it was hard to even think about. It is about trying to find a maternal bond with my mother, not really being there and not really understanding that. You could almost understand why as an adult you might self-medicate and struggle to deal with those things.
“Also, Bête Noire and Dance With The Devil look at the self-destructive hedonistic side of me as a person. That’s part of my nature that I don’t think I will ever be able to get rid of – it’s part of who I am.”
