REVIEW: Brian D'Addario—Till The Morning (2025)
The elder Lemon Twigs brother's virtuosity on full display on his debut solo LP.
If you’ve ever seen The Lemon Twigs live, you’ll know what an incredibly dynamic band they really are. What you can’t tell from the records is quite how ridiculously multi-talented they are, swapping instruments seamlessly, and absolutely beasting whatever they play.
One minute you might think Brian is the guitar hero, then Michael is. Then one of them gets on the drums and is incredible at that too. Then there are the air kicks and sumptuous harmonies. It’s a bit overwhelming. Whatever you think about their songs, they simply come alive on stage. They’re just insanely great live.
So with that in mind, it’s hardly surprising that when Brian wished to go and put out a solo album, it would work out just fine—there’s really nothing he can’t do. Such is the prodigiousness of his talent, it’s indistinguishable from a full band. So when Till The Morning bursts out of the speakers, this really is all Brian. It’s right there in the credits. Vocals, drums, bass, piano, organ, guitar, engineering. I guess he fancied doing it the Emitt Rhodes way. Solo meaning truly solo.
I’m not sure if this was album was simply an exercise in seeing if he could, like a kind of hobby, proving it both to himself and everyone else that he really could make an album just as good as the band. And it really is as good as the band, and that’s saying a lot. As with all albums, you can have all the musical chops in the world, but if the songs suck, you may as well not bother. In this case, he also has a stack of great tracks to showcase his talents as well.
And they’re not only great, but exceptionally varied. Sometimes, it’s as if he just picks whatever style he fancies that day, and blasts out another ditty to lodge itself in your brain. He makes plaintive acoustic balladry sound so effortless on Songs Of Everyone. It’s that same gift that Macca has, where he could probably sing the Yellow Pages and make a hit.
As if to underline the point, Nothing On My Mind comes out of the traps with all the brazen hooky confidence of a track from the Fabs’ Help period. It’s so brazenly melodic, and always hits that balance between composition and pop. Brian knows precisely where to take a song, and he want you to know how much he knows. I guess some people might find that a bit much, but I enjoy the sonic swervers he take us on. It’s exhausting sometimes, but also thrilling. I feel like three minutes on these musical waltzers might be too much. But then I want to get straight back on.
And because he lurches through different styles so often—much like the band—it’s not guaranteed that everything will tick your boxes. I’m not the hugest fan of One Day I’m Coming Home, not because it’s not a good song, it’s just not a style I’m that fond of. Only To Ease My Mind perhaps keeps the album in the downtempo ballad zone one song too long—a case of a good song that could have been sequenced elsewhere.
Interestingly, at this point in the record, he ropes in brother Michael to do harmonies and drums and engineering. In fact, for most of the rest of the record, he pops up in a similar capacity, making it, dare I say it, not all that far from a Lemon Twigs record. Not that I’m remotely fussed how ‘pure’ this is as a solo record, but it’s worth a mention.
What’s of most interest are the songs. Flash In The Pan is the purest 70s soft rock song I’ve heard in ages, complete with dead-on George Harrison slide playing, and whatever little lifts from the greats of the period he feels like inserting, with a nod and a wink. If you want a true ‘single’ from the album, this is right up there. As is This Summer with its bizarro hook “This summer I kill myself/I’m never gonna die/Never gonna die” sung with all the breezy cheerfulness of a breakfast commercial. You have to love this shit.
One of my favourites on the whole thing is Useless Tears, with its brazen nod to The Kinks’ Village Green intro, before storming into a string laden baroque pop tale, with all the lyrical pomp of a late 60s English dandy. Nothing is accidental when it comes to those D’Addario boys. They know what they’re doing.
You might not always fully love Brian’s musical chicanery, weaving between balladry and pop and back again, but the sheer craft in everything he puts out is undeniable. Whether or not you can actually buy this record is a moot point.
When it initially came out, you could only get it from his Bandcamp, Rough Trade and eventually Monorail. And it was released in such tiny quantities it was sold out on pre-order. But now it appears to be back in stock, and also available in more places. Why it wasn’t made widely available like a regular Lemon Twigs record is a weird one. Clearly the demand is there. Just get it out there Brian. It’s so good!
