It's difficult to separate the art from the emotion. After all, it’s the easiest fuel to burn and power the creative engine, be it for cathartic or liberating purposes – something that is especially true for music. Time and time again, musicians have sought to archive their mindset sonically on a record, with Cano-Irish performer Don Maple aka Stuart Ledgerwood. A veteran of Northern Ireland’s independent music scene (‘Hit The B Button’ being his last iteration before his current one), Ledgerwood teams up with old friends on his debut album ‘Sorry.’
Equal parts charming, flawed, raw and diverse, the inaugural effort of Don Maple is as a personal statement – a calculated, introspective journal that tracks the highs and lows of a life plagued by mental illness, with family and music often being the only forms of solace. A combination of previously released tunes and brand new tracks that span psychedelic, indie rock, art rap and hip hop, ‘Sorry’ is both a love letter to the past and a documentation of the writer's personal demons.
To grasp the truth at the heart of ‘Sorry’ however, it is essential to understand the man behind Don Maple. There is a sense of longing for belonging that could only originate from an individual born, raised and matured between the cities of Belfast and Toronto, then only constant being that of his favourite bands. Cold and unforgiving places, both environmentally and socially, the combination of North American and Northern Irish sensibilities (specifically the potent mix of stereotypically Irish shame and Canadian politeness) is reflected in the themes, images and lyrics of the album – just take a look at the title. Ledgerwood’s songs reflect an environment where happiness is treated like a guilty secret, with even the most upbeat of his number is tinged with an omnipresent melancholy.
However, Ledgerwood manages to avoid slipping into indulgence with no small amount of personal touches. The bittersweet nostalgia on ‘Uncle Al’s Van’, complete with both spoken word and live recordings of “Go Leafs Go!”, hit home the reality of the situations being discussed throughout the tracks. Be it the liquid gloom of ‘Sweet & Sour’ (“I’ve been thinking for an hour now I’m crazy”), or the psychedelic waves of ‘Like It Never Happened’ (“I thought I felt your little hand but then I wake up again… thought I’d move on, but depression is consistent”), Ledgerwood makes it easy to sink fully into the tracks and experience the full weight of them. Once fully immersed, it becomes clear that each song is the soundtrack to a different conflicting emotion - ‘Magnets’ has a fearful, manic rage, ‘Sweet & Sour’ has imposter syndrome, ‘I’m Sorry’ is dripping with anxious depression and so on. Coupled with a sore, vulnerable lyrical content, Ledgerwood manages to stave off the worst of the occasionally vague, lengthy affliction that plague a few numbers.
Unfortunately, the albums greatest strength is also its greatest weakness. Personality-driven as it is, Ledgerwood has a habit of losing himself in his diction and composition: for the most part, this keeps things varied and fresh, but at 14-songs it is noticeable when it happens. Given the content, however, the hardly seems surprising. A carefully constructed tracklist would not have had the same emotional impact as the occasionally scattered nature of ‘Sorry’. Indeed, the clear callbacks to Tame Impala and Mac Demarco read more like the playlist that has comforted Ledgerwood over the album's creation, thus creating a sound unique and personal to him - You will recognise and enjoy Maple’s creation but only he can truly see the full sum of its parts.
Highlighted by 'Bluebird' (childish Gambino-esque, mix of hip hop, and art rock, both nostalgic and fresh), 'Frogs Are Always Cool' (neo-psychedelic indie rock with an electronic soul and liquid flow) and 'Keep on Waiting' (Pop rock/punk sucker punch), ‘Sorry’ is a humanising catalogue of a mans struggles, punctuated by lifting highs (“when we kiss our braces stick together”) and rocking lows. Overwhelming at times (for better and worse) and starkly honest, the musical musings of Ledgerwood are beautiful at times and heartbreaking at others. A fine debut, and hopefully a sign of greater things to come.