Ed O’Brien – Blue Morpho Review

Finding the time to create outside the confines of a Radiohead tour is no small feat. Ed O’Brien has accomplished it all the same. With the Thom Yorke-fronted group no doubt dominating Europe last year and with little interest in recording new music at the time, Radiohead became the centrepiece for each member. O’Brien, however, was working away on Blue Morpho, a solo album that has the weightiness of a Radiohead album and the sensitivity of a solo piece. Such is the fine line walked by O’Brien on this piece of work, a tender, seven-song experience. Instrumental simplicity and vocal strength are what O’Brien relies on here, with a few flickers of impressive emotional openness. It’s a triple that works extremely well for O’Brien, who has served audiences well before this and will do so after, should he take Blue Morpho out on tour. Let us hope he does, it’s worthy of taking the stage of some quiet, small venue.  

Opening song Incantations is a delight to hear. Its beauty lay in repetition, and the additional instrumentation brought into play after each lap of returning to the title word. A phenomenal display, the build of guitar, tambourine, and backing vocals, which sound disconnected from the meaning but parallel with the feeling presented by united chanting. It’s an exposition of what other worldly or articulate pieces can move someone, seen or unseen. Spiritual would be the word for it, but the guidance is not spectres but a strong instrumental quality. The build O’Brien has at hand here is nothing short of magnificent, and it suits his songwriting style well. He sounds willing, more often than not, to let the instrumentals become the focus of the work. It turns Blue Morpho into a series of successful, interpretive moments where call and response can be heard between the instruments. It’s a fascinating listen, and that’s just the first song.  

Blue Morpho evolves from there. The title track is a neat nod to how artists can use string sections without it being an obtuse and aggressive tug at the heartstrings. Blue Morpho feels, always, as though it is going somewhere. Where that may be, who knows? That’s not the point, really. Being moved by a journey from somewhere to someplace else is, in fact, more than enough to strengthen this O’Brien latest. Sweet Spot feels more like a transition into what becomes a percussion-heavy play around on Teachers, but those breaks from the brilliance are necessary. It means we can feel out the better parts of the song, understand the instrumental bliss from O’Brien that little bit better. There are moments where O’Brien plays around with the industrial sounds, the modern-day equivalent of seemingly making droning noise, increasing in tempo before a sudden end. A predictable part of Blue Morpho, but the songs to follow salvage it.  

Thin Places, too, serves as a palette cleanser for the instrumental overstep of Obrigado. A near-ten-minute album closer that dares to ask the question on O’Brien’s mind. What if Incantations were longer and choppier? There’s the answer, then. It sounds decent enough. Much of Blue Morpho is an enjoyable time and it’s worth experiencing. It’s quite unlike anything the passing Radiohead fan may have expected from the group’s long-serving guitarist, and there’s nothing quite like a little difference from time to time to appreciate what happens when a musician gets it just right. Blue Morpho is a fine piece of work from an artist who can certainly hold his own. There are moments of real clarity which speak to the spirituality of the piece throughout, just not enough to pull it into that sweet spot of a truly moving and articulate listen.