Mike Rickard - Out Loud

Buy Out Loud here (Amazon GB)

If you want to know what the music of talented chap Mike Rickard sounds like, well, you should probably check out his rather splendid new album Out Loud. It encompasses his ability to make your tired feet shimmy their way over to the nearest dancefloor, conveys real-life stories and emotions with an eloquence that makes it feel intimate and personal, and feels like he has taken your innermost thoughts and feelings and set them to indelible pop hooks and achingly exquisite ballad refrains. In short, it feels like Mr Rickard sings the type of music he loves rather than the type he thinks will adhere to current fads and trends. This is especially important because it conveys a sense of a commitment to telling stories in the best possible way - and it is this which makes the songs of Out Loud linger long after the CD has finished spinning. Definitely worthy of at least five singles, here are some humble thoughts on what you find within this epic opus...

The opening number and title track, Out Loud, starts with a gorgeous a cappella intro before flowing into a delicious piano-laden, hand-clap groove. Here, Mike tells the tale of many a young man and woman who has felt marginalised for being different, told to hide their inner truth and conform to what society wants "the norm" to be. Like Mike, I grew up in a religious household with weighty expectations on my shoulders, so this song is a cathartic exploration of sentiments; a freeing rallying call to arms to be who you are without fear of repercussion or hate. The struggle is still real but songs like this (with those sumptuous gospel-influenced backing vocals) make it all worth while. If tears of joy are streaming down your face, you're not alone. Alright continues those toe-tapping, finger-clicking rhythms whilst Mike brings insight into the deluge of negative media and heartbreaking press which we seem to wade through news cycle after news cycle. His comforting refrain of "it's gonna be alright, alright, alright" is like an aural hug from an old friend - that clever repetition of the titular word providing the listener with succour that you're not alone & the fight for a better tomorrow continues. It is like a Rhythm Nation for a news-weary generation. Don't Feed The Ghosts provides a beguiling, mesmerising score with a pared-down beat which provides the perfect backdrop for Mike to be introspective and melodically share his self-reflection. There are influences in this song as varied as George Michael and Prince, yet it doesn't feel derivative; the passion and angst in Mike's voice makes this wholly his music. It is this passion and angst which crescendos in symbiotic partnership with the instrumental as the narrative pulses to its dramatic finale.

Six Queer Kids should be required listening for every politician, every adult in a position of influence, every parent who wants the best for their child. Mike is a natural narrator, someone who knows how to tell a story in a way which unveils the nuances of his words and demands your attention. This song is devastating - even more so because it will hit home with many people who hear it and recognise themselves or their friends in the lyrics. If Lady Gaga released this, it would race up the charts and spark a much wider discussion. Mike deserves no less success. Not because I think he'd want the fame based on this song but because of the awareness it would raise. Someone get this to Peter Buttigieg and make it his campaign anthem. You're To Blame shows how Mike can subvert expectations with just a song title. Rather than this being a Taylor Swift style kiss off, it is a celebration of all the good things which came from having a person in your life. That shuddering synth feels like the musical representation of waking up in the still of the night and having these thoughts swirl around in your head. The metronome of the beat in the chorus also helps accentuate the spirit of the message Mike sings. This guy sure knows how to craft a song for maximum effect. This is further demonstrated on Taste Your Smile. It is Mike at his most seductive and sultry, the sparse instrumental feeling like it is powered by the beating of two hearts. Stripping back the music leaves the emotion raw and enables the listener to really focus on the yearning in Mike's voice. Songs about intimacy should always feel like the act itself and this really leaves you with all sorts of NSFW images dancing in the corner of your mind's eye. Mike then takes your quickened pulse into Wouldn't Be Love, a song you hope isn't the conclusion to the story started in the previous number. It is all about the hardships in a relationship where you are faced with the choice of really fighting or just letting go. The blend of country music style raconteur with electronic flourishes, swaying alongside that assertive guitar riff is all as thrilling as that memorable chorus.

The country music vibe continues on What Love Looks Like - surely the first dance wedding song of choice this coming summer (and one I'll certainly be playing at my parents 60th wedding anniversary this year). The regal nature of the horns adds majesty to Mike's sincere words, a declaration which must be the foundation for any relationship. It is dreamy and swaying, and I'm swooning over each progressive note. It also feels like the song most suited to a musical theatre production, soundtracking the epic proposal just before the grand finale. Magical. On Sand, you get one of pop music's best lines ever ("If I ever feel like Clark Kent/who knows he's superman") which is absolutely worth the price of admission just for that lyrical bon-mot. It is also a blistering paced pop song which sweeps you up in its energy and carries you on a rollercoaster ride which leaves you breathless. Not Finished Yet; (with that telling punctuation) gives voice to that whisper inside us all which urges us to carry on and do better (even if we feel too exhausted to do so). Thankfully Mike makes that whisper a musical roar and beautifully crafts this inspirational message which I am going to play every single time I feel like life has got in the way of my dreams (instead of realising it is just me using that as an excuse). It really is the best affirmation since Savage Garden's Affirmation. Surrender takes us back to those glorious piano chords of the opening number, bring Out Loud full circle. Like a contemporary hymn, there is a reverence to the performance (lovingly enhanced by the strings) and an honesty that is so searing it feels like looking into a mirror. It caps an impressive body of work which leaves you thinking, leaves you humming and leaves you hitting repeat and beginning the adventure all over again.