John Grant – The Art of The Lie Review

Why do we risk? This is the question which comes in the early morning coffee-making ritual. When your intestines are more Tassimo than tissue, risks are taken. It puts you on a level with the great creators. You are one bad meal away from three days bedridden like Proust. But what of those who define fear? John Grant has continually made daring new tricks his angle for strong work, and it is no different on The Art of The Lie. His exceptional Pale Green Ghosts still lingers as a shot of chamber essentials a decade on. Grant has worked with consistency since then, from partnerships with Richard Hawley to interwoven studio releases. The Art of The Lie is the latest in a continuing, decade-long high of ultimate quality from Grant. His most dedicated fans would know this already. For passers-by, now is the time to get involved. 

What made his previous works so great is captured here. Those flourishes of electronics are present from the very first moments of percussion-reliant opener, All That School for Nothing. Grant has turned his attention to art rock, his patience cracked and finally, he snaps at the world around him. He guns down those he believes are the vultures of his life in an unremitting, volatile collection of tracks. Grant has never sounded so infuriated. His frustrations are the makings of a truly great record. In this rage is cynicism. Grant admits it and is now in the process of navigating those dejected feelings. Marbles does well to document it – a focus more on the sonic force of those electronic sways. What can be done when the guitar cuts through is the focus for the colloquial loss of his mind.  

Self-love may be a difficult road to travel but it is an essential part of The Art of The Lie. Whether Grant is lying to himself to fulfil this contained desire, as is only natural, is skillfully hidden. We can never be sure whether Grant is honest with his listeners or is shielding those fragile elements of himself with drum machines and electronic miseries. Father is a keen example of this – an expression of interest in memories of childhood ripped apart by those vocal manipulations. Yet the lyrical clusters are heartbreaking. Guilt at not becoming the son his father wanted and an exploration of his perceived shortcomings come through as tender and earnest. Grant has always been capable of this tone and explores it with slow burning heartbreak throughout The Art of The Lie. 

Grant spends much of his time with The Art of The Lie figuring out the depths of his childhood, searching for the highs and lows. Mother and Son is an exceptional continuation of Father, but focuses on the guilt felt by Grant for the effect he has on his parental figures. It is as touching and warm as expected of Grant’s solo work. There is nothing closely guarded about this. The Art of The Lie knows when to drift away from intense specifics, with Meek Af a takedown of the unloving marital structure. There is a funk tone underlining the overall appeal of The Art of The Lie. Within is an experiment in joy, an antidote to the agony experienced elsewhere. 

If we are to escape our troubles, do so with It’s a Bitch. An incredible selection which hears Grant use his voice as the most important instrument. Interjections and furious momentum guide him through another exceptional release – perhaps the most instrumentally challenged in some time. Daddy is a life-changing track. Not just for Grant who puts to paper his intimate thoughts on family but for the listener, who will be drummed into place by the militaristic-like marching of percussion found within. Stand shoulder to shoulder with Grant and feel the boom of comfort in the openness, the honest crashes of realisation, however harsh or brutal an experience it may be. What The Art of The Lie offers is a breakdown of the cons we make in our minds to keep ourselves safe. Dismantling that over an hour is remarkable and creates an essential listen from Grant. He is in the business of making life-changing pieces of work, and The Art of The Lie is no exception.