A SONGWRITER never can tell where the next one is coming from.
Inspiration can strike from anywhere: a painting hanging on the wall, an 18th Century book of poems, or just the joys of driving around. Other songs rise up from a vocabulary that pays as much heed to old-time music and language as it does to current events and sounds. One embodies the horror of killing in the name of religion, another comes from the pages of the Old Testament.
It's all there on Paul Kelly's new album, Stolen Apples, which not only features a title tune based on the oldest story in the book, but is a collection as rich and rewarding, and surprising, as any in the 30-year recording career of one of the world's greatest songwriters. While the sources for his material are varied and fascinating, what matters most with Paul Kelly is that the great songs keep coming, at a time of life when the well for many songwriters dries up and they more often trade on former glories.
Not Kelly. His creative juices are flowing as strongly as ever, fuelled by a diverse series of creative collaborations which range from bluegrass music (with The Stormwater Boys) to instrumental sounds (The Stardust Five) and film soundtracks. He also produced Cannot Buy My Soul, an extraordinary album released earlier this year, featuring the songs of Aboriginal songwriter Kev Carmody performed by the likes of Missy Higgins, Bernard Fanning and The Herd.
But Stolen Apples is Kelly's first album under his own name since 2004's Ways and Means, working again with a line-up which includes his nephew Dan Kelly, guitarist Dan Luscombe, drummer Peter Luscombe and bassist Bill McDonald.
"For the past 10 years I've been much more involved with collaborative songwriting,'' Kelly explains. "The kind of people I'm drawn to play with are the ones where there's the possibility of writing with them as well. I've played with this band on and off since 2002 and it's a bit more of a coalition rather than an exclusive band like the Messengers. People have other projects a lot of the time.''
Which meant Stolen Apples was recorded differently to Kelly's usual method, which is to record the songs quickly while the iron is hot. This time the initial recording was followed by tinkering in short sessions in Kelly's shed-turned-backyard-studio stretched out over the rest of the year.
The album's dazzling bookends illuminate the range this allows him to cover. The opener, Feelings of Grief, shows the band at full stretch with a U2-like grandeur. The closing Please Leave Your Light On finds Kelly alone at the home piano, with mic leads stretching out to the shed, delivering a performance as naked and emotional as any in his long career.
