Over a decade on from anything original in the discography, Julian Lennon returns with Jude. Pop rock stylings from the son of John Lennon are, naturally, going to have a high bar to hit. Drop the resemblance, remove the influence of an important figure of music, and Lennon explores a unique sound that he can call his own. Jude is an active attempt to separate father from son in the most articulate and respectful way possible. It does not quite work, yet there are lingering moments that last far longer than Jude should be allowed. They are engaged in that soundscape, a wall of sound experimentation, and it gives Lennon a longer-lasting piece than previous efforts.
Opening track Save Me is a piece that lends itself to stripped-back intimacy, but the larger scale of musical cohesion is as defiant as any pop-rock piece. It relies more and more on the instrumental moments, the drum beats and the crashing guitars, that build and build on Lennon’s lyrics. Some will swing Freedom toward that ever-reliable “ethereal” sound, but, if anything, it is just absent. Mysterious through a lack of focus rather than a dedication to the strangeness that comes from lyrical quality. It sees Lennon drag up that inevitable, paternal influence. He adapts it well, and that is fine enough, but the lack of difference between that and the scope of the tracks is a shame. There is not a particular track from The Beatles legend that Jude is reminiscent of, but there is a presence that cannot be fully removed.
That comes more from the title, a nod to Paul McCartney’s Hey Jude, which in turn was written for Jude. It all comes full circle and it never needed to. Jude can stand on its own merits as finely made and mixed pop-rock music, but there are the stuttering blows of Beatlemania to contend with. Every Little Moment attempts reflection but comes across as broad, bland and consistently reliant on defined lyrics from Lennon Sr. The war may indeed be over, but Jude makes no new reference or message for such a line to even bother occurring. It is not as though that reflection is poor, though. Not One Night is a touching letter of love that depends more on the history Jude can contain than anything else.
Eventually though, like all art that perseveres against a point or box, it is placed in, Lennon pushes forth with a good run of form. Love Don’t Let Me Down and Love Never Dies are great and intimate acoustic pieces that will hit well if the right mood is found. Beyond that though are a relatively consistent pace and likeability. Nothing monumental, but listenable tracks that flirt with the idea of quality from time to time. Lucky Ones is a light and surprising change of pace from the earlier pieces of the album. Lennon, if anything, just needs time to settle into a consistent form and phase that does not rely almost entirely on the work he will always be centralised and attracted to. Still, a Paul Buchanan and Elissa Lauper featuring track, Gaia, proves little in the way of essential Lennon quality.
