Monorail Music is continuing to follow Scottish Government advice with regard to Covid-19. We are currently under lockdown restrictions and are currently not operating a click and collect service. Our mailorder service is operating as normal, with a reduced staff.
Young GuvRun For Cover
Released: 22nd October 2019
|LP - Neon Green Vinyl||£19.99||Buy Now||In Stock. Dispatched tomorrow.|
Young Guv is Ben Cook. Limited to 400 Neon Green Vinyl
Ben Cook is a songwriter, a dedicated and prolific songwriter of rare talent. The real deal. In the summer of 2018, Ben moved from his Toronto home to a sublet in Brooklyn, and there he began writing some of the best songs of his life.
GUV II, out on Run For Cover in October, is the second collection of pop music — staggeringly poignant and infectious pop music — written and recorded by Ben Cook throughout that New York City summer and the follow up to GUV I. Continuing the themes of the previous instalment, GUV II is awash with lashings of harmony and west coast guitar jangle. On these songs, the Guv indulges his love of pure guitar pop, almost offering a panorama of the different facets of it. There's baggy rhythm sections recalling the heady days of the earliest of the 90s, bubblegum pop a la a psychedelic Monkees crossed with Super Furry Animals and on tracks like Caught Lookin' a lightly funky look at the Yacht Rock non-scene, sounding not unlike a cross between Hall + Oates and, well, earlier incarnations of Young Guv in full blown funky power pop mode.
Cook describes Young Guv songs as akin to “people-watching in a foreign country in the morning, trying not to cry from the overwhelming feeling of sadness and happiness.” Another way of putting it would be that Young Guv songs are about being alone. And this at a time in history when more people feel more alone than ever before. And so, as if sensing an opportunity for some kind of communion, Young Guv has made a discography out of conjuring the peculiar desolation that arises when you’re somehow by yourself in a discrete physical space — perhaps in a small Brooklyn apartment in the heat of a New York summer — surrounded nonetheless by millions of other isolated, solitary people, literally any one of whom you could, for all you know, love with all your heart for the rest of your life, but almost none of whom will, you’re ultimately forced to admit, become anything more than a briefly transfixing stranger, at best a wraith that haunts your dreams. Cook sings the vicious cycle to life on “Roll Wit Me”: “I can't place who you are / So familiar and brand new / What is it that you've got / So effortlessly cool / You don't have to look at all / Ya why would you anyways / All I wanna do is talk / I just don't know what to say / But I can't wake up in my bed / alone another day.”