marcus foster

Flora Rowe

Those who proclaim a love for ‘authentic’ music may have found their match with Marcus Foster. He holds all the qualities of a good singer-songwriter: distinctive, weathered vocals, intense heartfelt lyrics and the support of his tentative, warm band led by a striking saxophonic vibrato. Although a London native, Foster crafts homegrown Southern tunes that have a primitive, unaffected quality. His vocals would convince anyone that he smokes 60 a day but this sound creates the most honest of emotions. Somehow he manages to avoid any clichés, which is surprising considering that Foster is just another middle-class Londoner who learnt to play guitar. His debut album Nameless Path was expected to be similar to the work of other tweed-donning musicians such as Mumford & Sons, Ben Howard etc. (as he headlined and produced the album at Communion, a West London club founded by Mumford & Sons’ Ben Lovett). However, due to the boogie breaking, fingerpicking and ever-building passion, the album escapes this stereotype and is instead more reminiscent of our Yankee brother’s whiskey soaked melodies. While Foster isn’t the first Brit to try and replicate the sounds of the states, they embraced him. Twilight actress, Kristen Stewart stars in his music video for the single I Was Broken:

The album's opening two tracks are disappointing. Shadows of the City is grimy, the dirty-sounding beats add a little oomph, however his vocal breaks are forced and leave little impact. Faint Stir of Madness has the same problem; Foster becomes lost among the clatters of confused circus jazz. While you might skip these tracks, You My Love is a rose among the thorns and honestly makes this album proof that Foster is more than an imitation of his musical influences. He bleeds out each of the lyrics as if each word is meant for us. “Where we cast another storm beneath the sad stained moon, and wait to find ourselves alone, in a room.” 

The final two tracks beef out the album and from the penultimate track Movement, we start to hear what makes Foster so individual. While his voice frequently breaks from his passion, his ever faithful band are eternally supporting him, a theme that is continued in his later album. The final track, Memory of Your Arms, leaves Foster’s voice secluded with the mere back up of a female voice and the occasional piano chords. Even though the songs vary in quality the album as a whole paints an image of Marcus Foster as an artist. His next album The Last House eliminates any doubts anyone had about Foster. With only six tracks, the only critique is that he leaves us wanting so much more.