Magnum's 'Here Comes the Rain' - Album Review

I have joked on this blog before about being able to set you watch by the release schedule of the British rock band Magnum. In recent years the band have been remarkably prolific and consistent; and have essentially released an album every other January for quite a while at this point. As such, then, January 2022 saw the release of the enjoyable The Monster Roars (which I reviewed here) and two years on Magnum fans the world over are currently celebrating the release of the band's twenty-third studio album Here Comes the Rain. So far, so typical - but of course Here Comes the Rain is not 'just' another Magnum album as, sadly, it is likely to be the band's final effort. This is due to the fact that Tony Clarkin, the band's founder, guitarist, and songwriter, died on 7th January aged 77 - five days before the album's release. As such, listening to Here Comes the Rain over the past week or so has been a strange experience. I am glad that the band did not delay the album's release as I am sure that Clarkin would have wanted the fans to hear an album which he had poured everything into - but it has certainly been hard for the band to promote the album under the circumstances. It is also poignant when considering that the digipack and box set editions of the album come with a full live performance from the band at KK's Steel Mill in Wolverhampton on 10th December 2022 - which was the last show that Clarkin ever performed. That show may well end up being Magnum's final show, too, as it seems hard to imagine them continuing on without Clarkin given that he had always been the band's driving force. Such matters are not really for me to speculate on, though, so I will turn my attention back to Here Comes the Rain - and celebrate Clarkin's last recorded work. Sound-wise, it follows the trend which the band have been essentially following since reuniting in 2001 - with a mix of driving gritty rockers, majestic mid-paced pieces, and lush ballads wrapped up in a sound which only Magnum, and Clarkin, can conjure up. No-one else quite sounds like Magnum, so the fact that they have rarely deviated from their core sound is not a problem for me. Despite their classic releases of the 1980s, plenty of the band's best work has come since the reunion - with 2007's Princess Alice and the Broken Arrow, 2016's Sacred Blood "Divine" Lies (which I reviewed here), and 2020's The Serpent Rings (which I also reviewed here) in particular standing out. Not all of the band's albums reach this level, including Here Comes the Rain, but Magnum have never released a bad one in my opinion - and Here Comes the Rain is as enjoyable as ever. It is also the band's shortest album for quite some time - clocking in at around 50 minutes. Most of the band's other recent albums have been around an hour in length, so the slightly shorter runtime here means that this album feels a bit more concise overall. All of the band's usual sounds are present here, though, so nothing has been sacrificed as a result.

As with all of Magnum's albums there are plenty of memorable songs here - but Here Comes the Rain opens with one its best, as Run into the Shadows ticks a lot of boxes on the Magnum bingo card. Opening with a hooky keyboard melody from Rick Benton, the track harks back to the 1980s a little, but the grit of the recent albums remain - and is evident when Clarkin's guitar riffing kicks in, and the track becomes a bouncy, mid-paced rocker. This bounce does hark back to the band's classic period, too, and it certainly feels like a song attempting to re-capture the sound of their more commercial peak. Lee Morris' punchy drumming helps this sound to permeate thanks to his ringing ride cymbal work during the chorus, whilst subtle vocal harmonies accentuate some of frontman Bob Catley's verse vocals - and they are also used in a more prominent way during the hooky chorus. It is the sort of song which really sticks in the brain after a single listen and it has remained a favourite for me since my first listen to the album. Clarkin's guitars add just enough weight, but this is a song which is largely driven by Benton's keyboards - from the opening melody, through the booming chorus piano, to the synth flourishes which make a later bridge section stand out. It is full of the band's trademark pomp rock sound, then, and it is a great mix of the band's more classic sound and their modern grit. The title track follows and slows the pace down - with the band opting to go for a more brooding sound. Magnum have lots of epic half-ballads in their catalogue and this is one of their latest efforts at such a sound. Benton's keyboards and strings give the song a huge feel, with the chorus taking on something of a symphonic rock sound thanks to the amount of strings backing Catley's statesmanlike vocals. Chugging acoustic guitars fill out the verses, whilst the subtle drumming of Morris and the pulsing bass of Dennis Ward create a bed for everything else. The verses are quite low key for Magnum, despite the dense keyboards, but this only allows the chorus to really soar - as the band kick in for the dramatic section, which is based around some of Catley's best vocal hooks on the album. Clarkin throws in a few subtle guitar leads here and there, but as usual his playing is understated - and this is a song which is based around Benton's arrangements and the vocals of Catley, who sounds as good as ever on this album despite his age. Some Kind of Treachery is similar, but overall it feels much brighter. It opens slowly, though, with Benton's piano backing Catley's gentle vocals. Magnum generally have a big sound, but Clarkin knows when his writing needs a simpler arrangement - and the verses here reflect such. Catley sounds great against the simple piano backing, but when Morris' drums kick in and build up to the chorus the song goes through the gears. Like the previous number, there is a big string arrangement during the chorus - but the song feels a bit more upbeat groove-wise. The darkness of the previous song's chorus is largely absent here and there is more of a theatricality thanks to Clarkin's crunchy guitar rhythms and the dancing string melodies. The song never really morphs into a true rocker, but again it sticks to that half-ballad sound that Magnum do so well - with an instrumental closing section building on the chorus' string arrangement to bring the piece to a dramatic end.

After the Silence is much more of a rocker, which is welcome given the two slower songs which preceded it. Subtle synths open things up, but Morris' drums are not too far away and as soon as he rolls in the keyboard flourishes and driving guitars turn the song into a powerful mid-paced rocker. As is often the case with Magnum, though, the song has quite a dynamic arrangement. The verses are a bit slower, with a programmed rhythm giving them a laid back feel - over which Benton's piano and Catley's vocals dance. This rhythm, though, keeps the song moving and stops it from sounding like another ballad - and when the chorus kicks in with the song's opening keyboard flourishes it is clear that the overall vibe of the piece is much more upbeat. The chorus is very hooky as a result, with Catley's melodies as anthemic as ever, whilst Benton's string arrangements again add a dramatic edge. It sounds like lots of Magnum songs we have heard before, but the infectious melodies and the strong chorus nevertheless make it another standout. Blue Tango takes on a different sound and is much more of a hard rocker throughout. Magnum have occasionally flirted with more of a boogie rock sound, particularly in the early days, and this song has shades of that - whilst also touching on Deep Purple's classic sound somewhat. Benton swaps his piano for an organ here, doubling up Clarkin's driving hard rock riff, whilst the punch of the rhythm section keeps the track moving. It is the grittiest song on the album up to this point and it lacks the band's usual dynamic approach - but it is fun hearing the band explore their heavier side somewhat, as it is not something which they do too often. The sound suits Catley's aging voice, too. He always turns in a good performance in the studio, but it is no secret that he is a bit rough around the edges these days. This song leans in on that, though, and his gritty delivery suits the harder rocking approach - with a fun chorus packed full of bouncy hooks. Benton even lays down a brief organ solo, too, and Clarkin closes things out with a pretty lengthy guitar solo - neither of which are typical Magnum tools. The Day He Lied returns to something more typical, with a string-filled intro soon giving way to another piano-driven verse. Arrangement-wise, the song is quite similar to the album's title track in my opinion, with a simple verse giving way to a dense, dark chorus packed with dramatic strings and another big vocal display from Catley. Given that it is so similar, though, it is perhaps less memorable overall. I feel that the title track did this sound better, although I do really like Benton's bridge-esque piano interlude here - which is more classically-influenced than is perhaps typical for the band. The Seventh Darkness returns to a rockier sound and it also includes a horn section - something which was utilised on the previous album, too. It worked quite well there and it works nicely here, too, and it helps the track to stand out. It is a pretty typical Magnum harder rock track, but the horn section (along with Benton's organ) help to accent the riffing of Clarkin and Ward nicely. The horns make a change from the strings, too, and they help to make the song sound both gritty and grand at the same time. Occasional guitar leads feature, too, but the centrepiece is a saxophone duel with Clarkin - which sees both trade lead lines back and forth in a pleasing manner.

Broken City opens with the sound of distant bombs, before a subtle string arrangement takes over and Catley begins singing over these simple swells. It is easily the most stripped back the album gets and it pushes Catley's voice right to the fore. As has been established, slower songs are not uncommon for Magnum - but this is the album's truest ballad. The strings and Catley dominate throughout, with the rest of the band never joining in - although a keyboard melody does kick in just before the chorus section, which is replaced by a piano passage to back Catley's vocal hooks. Despite this, though, there are changes throughout, as a bridge-like section sees the strings taking a darker, more pulsing turn. I keep expecting the rest of the band to join in, but the simple ballad works nicely as it is - and it is a great showcase of Catley's vocal talents. Following that, then, it is unsurprising that I Wanna Live feels much more upbeat. It is more of a rocker from the off, although it is certainly not as crunching as some of the heavier tracks here - with the lush sounds of the opening piece a touchstone here. Morris' percussive hi-hat grooves and Ward's busy bass playing help the track to stand out but, as usual, it is Benton's keyboards which give it its sparkle. The mix of dense piano chords and sparking synths keep the verses ticking, whilst the chorus is another burst of mid-paced hard rock energy with more driving piano melodies and plenty of big vocal harmonies bulking out Catley's hooks. Clarkin's guitar tends to take a backseat to provide a rhythmic boost and a touch of heaviness, but he does launch into a pretty lengthy guitar solo part way through. He does not solo as often as most guitarists would, and he is not always the most exciting of soloist, but his solo here is pretty fast-paced and it fits in nicely with the song's upbeat nature. It is another song which ticks a lot of big Magnum boxes and the lush arrangement brings out the best in everyone - with a keyboard-led closing section allowing Benton to travel back to the 1970s to ape some of the progressive rock players of the time. The album then comes to a close with Borderline, another mid-paced rocker which grows from a quiet, synth-based intro. It is not unusual for a Magnum album to end on a ballad, and the opening seconds give that impression, but the track has quite a bit of punch throughout. The staccato approach of Morris and Ward helps the song to stand out, giving it a strange groove, whilst the overall arrangement is much rawer than is typical. There are no real walls of strings here, with Benton's piano feeling much more organic - whilst Clarkin's guitar adds plenty of stabbing riffs, and a handful of bluesy guitar solo sections which are not hugely typical of his general approach. Given that, retrospectively, this song is likely to be Clarkin's last, this focus on his guitar riffing and soloing is fitting. The bluesy soloing adds to the song's more organic feel overall, too, although there is also a keyboard-led section which feels a bit grander overall thanks to the synth tones used. At the very end, though, Benton takes over - and his piano leads the song to a faded close. This is more typically Magnum than much of the rest of the song, but the change does not feel too jarring - and it works nicely to bring the album to a delicate end. Unless there are unreleased songs in the vaults, or demos which the rest of the band can finish off, Here Comes the Rain is almost certainly going to be Magnum's last stand - and it is a fitting way to cap off an excellent career. It revisits the band's classic sound one last time, with the performances and songwriting as good as ever. Enjoying the album feels like the best way to mourn Clarkin, too, and with the huge catalogue of songs he has left behind he will forever live on in the minds of the fans.

The album was released on 12th January 2024 via Steamhammer/SPV GmbH. Below is the band's promotional video for Blue Tango.