Joan Armatrading, Steppin' Out (1979)

Where bought? I didn't. It belongs to my partner, N, and I think it used to belong to her dad.

My partner doesn't own many records, but the few she has are mixed in with mine. Her taste in music is pretty hard to pin down, ranging from intensely cool and modern electro-acoustic weirdness, dark techno, and very mainstream pop from the pre-00s. She seems to like most things that I put on, which is a positive. Her favourite song is 'You Can Call Me Al'.

This record reminds her of her dad, who passed away just over a year ago. I didn't know that it was his until I put it on and started mopping the floors to the sound. She was happy to hear it, surprised even, and then a little wistful before she left the house to enjoy the sunshine.

Whilst I know of Joan Armatrading, I can't say I'm too familiar with her work. Here are the two things I do know: i. her favourite drink is a mug of warm water ii. Devendra Banhart, who I'm not a fan of really, did a quite wonderful mini-interview on Pitchfork in their video series 'the song I wish I'd written'. He talks about 'Willow' (not on here) in such empathetic terms that I went and listened to it for myself. I think I understand what he's talking about, but also not quite. See for yourself:

Steppin' Out is a live record with a little bit of post-gig sweetening, but her band is very tight and professional and Armatrading has such a great and versatile voice that you probably wouldn't be able to tell outside of the introduction and some spontaneous ripples of mid-song audience enthusiasm.

The first song ('Mama Mercy') didn't do much for me in trying to work up an instant live lather, but from there on in it was a nice sweet spot of late morning chores music: sweet and humble, with little changes in genre, style, and intonation that were all a total breeze to listen to. 

Weirdly it reminded me of Van Morrison's mid-70s live work but stripped of the performative intensity: a mixture of blues, soul, and pop with an ethereal flavour provided by a flautist. The guitarist, Richard Hirsch, takes a few more solos than I'd ordinarily like on a solo artiste's album, but he isn't a snoozer so let's let it slide.

I've no nostalgia for it but maybe I will develop some in the years as I quite liked it! Obviously a keeper as I'm not chucking out my partner's records.