Baby Dave - billy

While there’s nothing about ‘billy’ to obviously suggest side-project - with the associated preconceptions of the format’s often trivial, or throwaway, ‘lesser’ nature - it is probably a record best listened to with full context of its protagonist’s identity. The third solo full-length from Baby Dave - more widely known as SOFT PLAY frontman, drummer and rabble rouser Isaac Holman - ‘billy’ runs a sonic gamut that only vaguely touches on his day job. There are guitars, but they’re soft; his voice barely reaches a yell at all, and highlights both an enviable lyrical wit, and a canny knack for pop hooks.

As a whole, it does an outstanding job of cementing him as in the Mike Skinner lineage: using everyday language to make a quietly profound impact; if The Streets’ best- loved material stands for the communal euphoria of the dancefloor, ‘billy’ is the metaphorical dank alley outside. Opener ‘am i clean???’ is the most literal of this, with an early ‘90s dance beat, cowbell and backing vocal “aah-aahs” that bring to mind The Specials’ iconic ‘Ghost Town’ all underpinning an infectious refrain that begins “My fears don’t care for logic”. The ghost town, it appears, is inside the mind. But it’s less in being direct recreation, and more a parallel: where The Streets’ inception followed the rise of UK Garage, there’s more than a few post-grime influences to ‘billy’.

It’s in the beat of ‘San Pellegrino’, an outstanding track that uses humour – “She don’t want no Highland Spring,” he chants - over an increasingly infectious track that’s ultimately a love song of how far he’ll go to fulfil his partner’s whims: a bus to Big Sainsbury’s, no less (“Bubbling acqua / C’mon, let’s ‘ave ya”). It’s in his cadence: see ‘wAvY tUnE’ and its lyric “Eatin’ and eatin’ and eatin’ / Like I’ve got six wives”. It’s – as that line itself can testify – in his ability to write and deliver bona fide bars. Not only does ‘twat in the attic’ rhyme Dulwich and Worzel Gummidge for a pure British pop culture dopamine hit, but “Where’s my inhaler / Darth Vader” is called back on much later in the same song (“panicking Skywalker”), and even when he’s full on singing, the references are there (see the lo-fi, acoustic, and fully sentimental ‘selfdeprecatinglovesong’ offering “You and me against the world / Scott Pilgrim”).

Elsewhere, ‘Zzzzzz’ is the most leftfield sonically – a fully country number, with slide guitar, on which Isaac sounds uncannily like Graham Coxon as he sings, his increased frustration at his inability to sleep beautifully juxtaposed with the music’s wilfully jolly tone, a manifestation of the adage ‘if you don’t laugh, you’ll cry’. It’s mirrored in closer ‘billy’. Musically, there’s a whiff, albeit less overt, of Americana to its soft strum, while emotionally it’s raw: its “Goodbye, little friend” would be a gut-punch in any context, but on a record where he’s otherwise used metaphor, pop culture references, pop hooks and contrast of sounds to deliver words on topics of mental health struggles and substance (mis)use, being so raw, unfiltered and direct has all the more impact. (An impact that’s then magnified further with any knowledge of Isaac’s own recent history).

Contextless, perhaps ‘billy’ is yet a folly of a record. But, to unashamedly belabour an earlier point, with a mental image of the topless Isaac smashing the shit out of his drums while yelling ferociously on a big festival stage in mind, it’s all the more raw, impactful and yes – on both levels - a ‘Dry Your Eyes’ moment.