“Don’t go looking for a narrative or story. There isn’t one.” In Saved Graeme Leak invites us into his eccentric, analogue world of Yamaha organs, medium wave radio and an ingenious assortment of gadgets and gizmos pondering the mundanity of life and the simple joy of retro sound.
The primal whirl of bossa nova being wobbled out of a deconstructed pair of revolving Leslie speakers has you beaming before he’s even done anything as Leak skilfully builds and layers noises, beats and melodies with a flourish of his hand or a jab of his pointed toe. Home-made instruments, pre-recorded tape loops and bonkers forms of percussion – Crown Green Bowls on an upturned bass drum anyone? – continue the wall of sound before more fully formed songs about the banality of existence take shape.
Shopping, the simple pleasure of a day trip in the car and whose turn it is to watch the telly are all subjects for Leak to riff off, everything delivered amusingly dead pan. At 50 minutes running time, the spell slowly starts to wear off, despite the hilarious interjection of a ceramic bird whistle and a malfunctioning electric whisk, but the way that he innocently reveres every musical tool, placing them deliberately and forensically around the stage is sweet and silly.
The fascination with what is being presented ebbs and flows like the output of a Bontempi organ and though it isn’t always pitch perfect, there’s enough here to spend a pleasant, meditative afternoon in the company of a man who is fully immersed in the kitsch, 70s sounds and the key to a simple life.