There are stories that need to be told, relayed and communicated, somehow, through some medium, through some vessel, in a bottle, a book, a poem, a song.

SPIRIT IN THE FORM by UK singer and songwriter, Matthew Robb, is a collection of ten tales that needed telling. They are told here, played and sung within the sparse soundscape created at WabiSabi studios, in Cologne.
The fledgling label has released 2 albums in 2017 alone and this latest offering somehow copper fastens the passion and commitment of the label to stay true to the nature and soul of acoustic music.
Dark and dry, deep, dense…. the message is clear in each story.

By SLAVE SONG, you know and you stay. “Let Jesus make up my dying bed, even if it’s where the Devil lay”. A couple of guitars, bass and an honest vocal, sometimes, is all it takes to convey the best songs to the listener, the passerby, a SINNERMAN, a RIVER, UNTIL THEN, telling us all what the deal is…
”I listen to stone and trust in redemption as a way to atone” …
A LONESOME BURDEN there may be in life, but this piece reminds us that burdens are lifted, sometimes by bird song, a gentle breeze or in this case, a dancer, ever present, just a little bit behind, on wood and 6 cold strings… again you know, you believe.
BLOOD ON THE PILLOW; ….“whiskey glass sits empty, cigarettes have all been rolled, as I toil with the memory, no arms could ever hold”…
The album, SPIRIT IN THE FORM, ends here, with Blood on the pillow, a song that makes me wish it wouldn’t end, like all great songs and stories….there are movies in here, black and white, colour too…the book will not be shut for good…

SPIRIT IN THE FORM is available, now at all good record stores, the WabiSabi Website and on iTunes.

“Musically he occupies the borderland between the talking blues of Townes Van Zandt and the folk excursions of early Dylan. ……… a beautifully weighted meditation on death which transcends it’s generic architecture” Uncut Magazine 

“The wordsmith of all time. I love Matt’s ethos……” Anthony Werneke, Replay Acoustics  

“SPIRIT IN THE FORM is a gripping album, one of passion, rightly delivered and with the mark of absolute character.” Ian D. Hall Liverpool Sound and Vision 

• Spirit in the form

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    Spirit in the form

    If those things I said did hurt you, and it‘s hard to forget the pain
    I can hear the lonesome whistle, blowing on that train
    you know I miss you and I wish you were still around
    I reach for my old guitar, when thoughts of you come down

    There was strength in your weakness
    sadness in your joy
    hope in the bleakness
    little girl in the boy
    silence in the thunder
    a void within the storm
    awe behind the wonder
    and spirit in the form

    The stars are shining bright and the wind is blowing cold
    I‘m getting on that train, to visit those days of old
    stop at the station ,hit upon them streets
    step into the darkness and there our shadows meet

    There was cruelty to your kindness
    a cut to all your ties
    sight in your blindness
    fire burning in your eyes
    lies to your honesty
    no words to show your pain
    wealth in your poverty
    and I guess it still remains

    Down on the lamplit street, now I pace the floor
    I can see your ghost there ,just sitting in the door
    there‘s nothing I‘ve got to give you, there‘s nothing I‘ve come to take
    it‘s just that I was passing by, but now it‘s getting late

    There was strength in your weakness
    sadness in your joy
    hope in the bleakness
    little girl in the boy
    silence in the thunder
    a void within the storm
    awe behind the wonder
    and spirit in the form

• Slave Song

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    Slave Song

    Throw up my hands and fall to the floor
    high water rising all about my door
    sold my body and many things beside
    now I‘m trying to keep my head above the rising tide

    Stole away my baby, though I begged them please
    they drove me on further down to my knees
    sinking in troubles, not a soul to confide
    and I‘m wading through waters muddied on either side

    These broken pacts and promises fled
    nobodies fault but mine they say
    let Jesus make up my dying bed
    even if it‘s where the devil lay

    Chains on my feet, I‘m dragging my pride
    I‘ve been hit too many times on my blind side
    The winds nurse the pines, as they creak in the night
    and dance in the shafts of the fading moonlight

    In that light one night I escaped
    tired from my body and conscience being raped
    old hannah rising, shadow on the road
    it‘s hard to tell if it‘s from friend or foe
    The hounds run me down, one cold morn
    made me rue the day, that I‘d ever been born

    you can beat my body with hardship and pain
    but my spirit lives on in the wind and the rain
    In my time of dying, my time to declare
    nobodies fault but mine they say
    even if it‘s where the devil lay

    I dream of this love and it comforts me there
    my sister, my brother gone down in the flood
    miss their song, their laughter, their tears and their blood
    These broken pacts and promises fled
    let Jesus make up my dying bed

• No room to hate (almost afraid to love)

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    No room to hate (almost afraid to love)

    I used to work all day and the day before
    cut all your kindling and I rolled your dough
    now I‘m down at the depot, looking upon the board
    says hard times hear, better move on down the road

    I‘m getting no younger and you´re so far away
    so don‘t be funny honey, take me back home to stay
    because I‘m all used up, caught in the push and shove
    ain‘t got no room to hate and I‘m almost afraid to love

    I‘m a thousand miles from nowhere, thumbing a ride
    I feel I‘ve grown so ugly, nearly layed down and died
    these days I don‘t seem to smile, even when I‘m on a roll
    I need a real hot mama, put the light back on in my soul

    Nowhere to lay my head ,I tore my playhouse down
    broke up my happy home, I run from town to town
    in this mean old world, feel like I‘m falling apart
    you give me strength to hold on and fill me with a thankful heart

    This ain‘t no lie, I tell it as it is
    there‘s nothing I want more in this world than your kiss
    if you show a little mercy and your willing to hear my plight
    I‘ll warm it up to you and we‘ll have a good time tonight

    Don‘t turn away from me, whatever you do
    you heal my memory, with these loving thoughts of you
    you made a fool out of me, so many times that I‘ve lost track
    and this war would end tomorrow, if you were to take me back
    I‘m tired of running, tired of hiding

• Blood on the pillow

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    Blood on the pillow

    Blood on the pillow,
    money on the floor
    I‘ve been around this place
    a thousand times before

    look outside your window,
    see the willow bending low
    as my fingers fumble with the keys,
    as I step inside your door

    Springtime turns to autumn
    the earth on its axis rolled
    I go down to the marketplace
    to get my old boots resoled

    wildflowers in the meadow
    horses tied up to the posts
    I´m walking through the shadows
    of a city full of ghosts

    I‘m blown upon an empty beach
    under a star lined sky
    I know you‘ve fallen out of reach
    the wild geese are flying high

    all the days we wished away
    under a moon of sharpened stone
    I hear your heartbeat drift away
    and I‘m standing all alone

    Should we close the book for good
    now your story has been told
    the knife it drained the blood
    now your body has grown cold
    whiskey glass sits empty
    cigarettes have all been rolled
    as I toil with the memory
    no arms could ever hold

    Blood on the pillow,
    money on the floor
    I‘ve been around this place
    a thousand times before
    look outside your window,
    see the willow bending low
    as my fingers fumble with the keys,
    as I step outside your door

Tracklisting:
1. Spirit In The Form
2. Slave Song
3. No Room To Hate (Almost Afraid To Love)
4. Sinnerman
5. River
6. Until Then
7. Where Did U Go My Friend
8. Lonesome Burden
9. Blood On The Pillow

Folker magazine review:

Albums can take time to ripen. For around thirty years the Cologne based singer-songwriter has been making music.
Now at the age of 48 he is releasing his first record. But the waiting was worthwhile. Bob Dylan himself could learn a thing or two from these 9 finely crafted songs. Influenced by the country blues, Matthew Robb’s musical
arrangements grab your attention with their sheer simplicity. His voice, guitar and harp awaken the great traditional folk music of the American west. Without exception though, it’s the profound scope and depth of his lyrics that really make the compositions so contemporary and outstanding, Like a thread running through the album, the songpoet speaks to the disillusionment of people living amongst the greed, procrastination and general malaise of a materialistic society, with themes as varied as modern day slavery and the death of a close friend from alchoholism. However, despite this meloncholic backdrop, Robb’s songs radiate a great hope that within mankind there lies a strength to lay that burden down.

As in the River, which says “There is a river that runs through you”
Erik Prochnow, folker