George Michael Biography

Steven Isserlis and Richard Egarr here assemble all the viola da gamba sonatas written by three composers born in the propitious year of 1685: one each by Handel and Domenico Scarlatti, and three by JS Bach. Isserlis plays them on the gamba’s modern cousin, the cello, and the microphone loves his playing, picking up all the nuances and scampering asides from his soft-spoken instrument which can sometimes get lost in big concert halls. Egarr on harpsichord matches Isserlis’s eloquence and rambunctious energy all the way. The dreamy, airy slow movement of Bach’s Sonata in G minor brings telling use of vibrato as Isserlis circles around Egarr, his playing at once idiomatic and soulful. An extra cellist reinforces the bass line in the Handel and Scarlatti, in which the composers give the harpsichordist only a framework; Egarr’s imaginative realisations ensure that even when Scarlatti is at his most repetitive, he is never dull.

With a delivery that makes John Martyn sound like a Shakespearian voice coach, the one-time hero of the early Harvest days returns with a small band (Steeleye Span's Rick Kemp and Lindisfarne's Ray Laidlaw) and his best album in years. Indeed, the old obsessions (loneliness, love, drinking, injustice) have not been explored this convincingly since 1970's Fully Qualified Survivor. It Ain't So is an understated grumble of a song, feeding off an insistent minor riff; The North Will Rise unexpectedly introduces northern dissaffection to a reggae beat; while Hard Times has a riff and solo that recall Chapman's ex-guitarist, Mick Ronson. If anything, the ballads hit even harder, particularly Drinking Alone and the title track, where humanity and old-fashioned canniness produce a song to break hearts old and young.