The King's Singers: Close Harmony
Signum Classics

Long-time fans of The King's Singers no doubt view all of its releases as essential, but Close Harmony checks that box for a variety of reasons. Whereas the group's previous three releases—Tom + Will - Weelkes & Byrd: 400 Years, the Disney-themed When You Wish Upon a Star, and Wonderland, an audacious collection of commissioned works spanning fifty-five years—each focused on a specific area of music, the new double-disc collection encompasses all of them and more. In doing so, the release offers countless examples of the singular vocal blend the current six members—countertenors Patrick Dunachie and Edward Button, tenor Julian Gregory, baritones Christopher Bruerton and Nick Ashby, and bass Jonathan Howard—have achieved. A set-list so diverse calls for vocal approaches as varied, and to that end the singers not only deliver their signature vocal harmonies but also simulate wah-wahing horns (Duke Ellington's “Creole Love Call”), buzzing insects (Rimsky-Korsakov's “Flight of the Bumblebee”), and percussion (Paul Simon's “Fifty Ways to Leave Your Lover”).

A simple scan of the thirty-one songs reveals the immense breadth of the release. Popular songs by The Beatles, Queen, Elton John, Christine McVie, Ed Sheerhan, Kacey Musgraves, James Blake, and Joni Mitchell appear alongside classics by Jerome Kern, Harold Arlen, and the Gershwins. It's the kind of album where it's not unusual for a plaintive Japanese folk song (“Takeda Lullaby”) to be preceded by Rossini (the overture to The Barber of Seville) and followed by “Penny Lane.” To be clear, Close Harmony is not completely new as a number of songs appeared on the four volumes in The Library EP series, which were released during the last six years. But if you didn't acquaint yourself with them, the EPs' songs and the many newly recorded ones offer 115 minutes of totally fresh King's Singers material.

The group requires little introduction, but a few details are worth mentioning. For fifty-six years and through regular changes in membership, The King's Singers has been regarded as the “gold standard” in a cappella singing and has backed it up by maintaining an incredibly high standard of vocal technique and artistry. The recipient of numerous honours, including two Grammy Awards and an Emmy, the group is as comfortable delivering serious classical material as irreverent pop songs. The latter give Close Harmony levity, with inspired re-imaginings of “Ob-la-di, Ob-la-da” (replete with Cossack dancing, operatic flourishes, and other tomfoolery) and Queen's “Good Old-Fashioned Lover Boy” (Brian May's guitar solo rendered by kazoos, no less) sure to raise a smile.

Close Harmony is that all-too-rare album where with every listen a new favourite emerges. For me it was, first of all, the soulful rendition of Laura Mvula's “Father, Father,” graced by a lovely Eric Whitacre arrangement and a magnificent lead by Gregory, and then the group's haunting take on Ed Sheeran's “The Hills of Aberfeldy,” with Jim Clements' arrangement elevated by a superb lead from Howard. The rollicking exuberance with which the Gershwins' “Oh! I Can't Sit Down” (from Porgy and Bess) is delivered makes it a standout, and it's easy to picture “Slow Train,” “Takeda Lullaby,” and Blake's tender “Meet You in the Maze” as future favourites. It wouldn't be exaggerating to say that pretty much every track on Close Harmony will take its place at the top of one's playlist at some point.

While the six have developed a spectacular ensemble blend, each possesses a distinctive voice, which makes it easy to identify who's singing at any given moment. Certain songs feature a lead—Gregory in “Father, Father,” Bruerton in “She Moved Through the Fair,” and Ashby and Button on “Songbird,” to cite three examples—but most spread the vocal parts across the group, such that showcases like “Crocodile Rock” and “Ob-la-di, Ob-la-da” stagger for their intricate arrangements and wealth of vocal parts. All six of The King's Singers are critical to the group's sound, and it's reflected in arrangements that flatter all of the vocalists, not one or two. At times, a lead might be backed by the five others, whereas in others voices pair in different combinations that show how effectively they blend. Further to that, they aren't singers only but arrangers too. Many are by Andrew Jackman, Bob Chilcott, Daryl Runswick, Paul Hart, and others, but Dunachie, Ashby, and Bruerton are credited as arrangers too.

Highlights? Let's start with the swinging doo-wop-styled treatment of “Crocodile Rock” that's apt for a song evoking the ‘50s and then move to the hymnal “Father, Father” for its gospel-infused coupling of Gregory's lead with the others' stirring harmonies. The moments where the voices swell majestically in “The Hills of Aberfeldy” are breathtaking, but as powerful are the lead melodies Sheeran crafted for a song that while written recently could pass for a timeless folk lament from the 1800s. Written by The Waterboys' Mike Scott and arranged by Bruerton, “How Long WilI I Love You?” is a modern-day wedding day song if there ever was one. Dunachie honours Musgraves with an arrangement of “Rainbow” that complements the song's melodic beauty. As familiar as Bette Midler's version of Amanda McBroom's “The Rose” is, it's reinvigorated by the group's heartfelt delivery of Nic Raine's arrangement.

In the American songbook category, Arlen's “Somewhere Over the Rainbow” (with Pat's pianist brother Liam and double bassist Misha Mullov-Abbado augmenting the singers) and Kern's “The Way You Look Tonight” are graced with beautiful harmony arrangements by George Shearing and John Rutter, respectively. Traditionals appear too, affecting versions of the Irish folk song “She Moved Through the Fair,” the Canadian folk tune “She's Like the Swallow,” and “Une gente bergère.” Memorable also are Donald Swann's swoon-worthy “Slow Train,” Dunachie's lovely treatment of Mitchell's “Sisotowbell Lane” (from her 1968 debut album Song To A Seagull), and Albert Hammon's “I'm a Train,” which sees the group personifying the high-velocity propulsion of a hard-working locomotive. Mention must be made of “Master-piece,” which Paul Drayton wrote for the group in 1987 and updated for the release to include recent developments. Over the course of twelve jaw-dropping minutes, the entire history of Western classical music is cheekily name-checked, from Bach and Mozart to Cage and Glass.

Caveats? Hardly any. We all love the Liverpool lads, but four songs by The Beatles might be one too many, and placing Ron Goodwin's “What kind of things do The King's Singers sing?” (a version of which originally appeared on the group's 1971 debut recording) at the start rather than the end might have made more sense. After all, being told that the group is capable of singing anything and everything (“We switch from the classics to songs of romance / We'll sing at a church or we'll sing at a dance”) seems redundant after hearing thirty testaments to its range; positioning it at the outset would be akin to making a bold, manifesto-like claim and then backing it up with what follows. It feels churlish, however, to even mention something so minor when the release rewards fantastically on so many levels. One expects that the group's next release will limit its focus to a particular genre; for now, there's no shortage of delights to enjoy on this encompassing, double-disc collection.

October 2024