Twenty years on from its release, Coles Corner still serves as a loving and articulate reflection on experiencing life with Sheffield as the backdrop. Richard Hawley may find himself forever tied to the city, but these are songs which can transcend location. Moving beauties which happen to be influenced by the vast cultural roots and history of the Steel City. It’s hard to talk Hawley without Sheffield, but the variety found in the archives of Coles Corner, particularly this acoustic version of the title track, opens a new door for the album. Hawley said he wanted to make “music that would last,” and there is no greater example of his lasting impression on music history than Coles Corner. A love letter not just to the city and the voices which fill its air, but the bright lights of any city can be adapted and considered in this tender style Hawley has.
Coles Corner being a last-gasp effort from the Longpigs and Pulp member only adds to the intensity. Power like this can be found in the most stripped-back of songs because a great songwriter can offer a perception of deep-rooted love through their words alone. It makes this acoustic cover, released as part of the twentieth anniversary of Coles Corner, a delight. Fans will be well-versed with the original, and newcomers will pick up on the clear difference. There’s a similar brilliance to this as there is to the acoustic version of Tonight the Streets Are Ours. Hawley has seemingly been moved by those European performances, where he and Shez Sheridan can strip the songs back and find a new, intense emotion. There’s a flicker of irony to Coles Corner in acoustic form, with the downtown filled with music now a necessity, a contrast to the cautious acoustic guitar and piano playing.
A strong voice is what helps these transitions from string-heavy sincerity to acoustic contemplation. It’s a very different feeling on a song where the core is still strong. Holding back the night sounds harder when there is no instrumental swell, but it also sounds inevitably tender. Doing more with that feeling is what matters, and Hawley does so with a sincerity hard to find in songwriters singing of their past. There is the temptation to brush up the details, to change the story to have a satisfying end or one which would be suitably effective for a listener. Not Hawley. He lays it bare and pays tribute to not just the city, but the people who lived alongside him, that’s what is crucial here. It makes it easy to extract a song like Coles Corner or The Ocean from Fargate and Church Street. You can apply them anywhere.
Ultimately, though, these are songs of the Steel City. They are inherently tied to a landscape which has now changed, and it adds a sentimentality to Coles Corner which could not have been predicted at the time. It’s easier to transition this song from string-backed bliss to busker-like brilliance when the mood and atmosphere of the city has changed. You can still walk the streets Hawley did when he was picking up influence for one of the very best singer-songwriter albums, but you cannot see what he saw. That’s where Coles Corner remains a valuable document beyond just strong musicianship. It, this cover in particular, is to cast your eyes on a part of the world now absent, its influence and history lost. That erosion is chilling, and this acoustic cover of Coles Corner gets to grips with that.
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