The Night Chancers

The Night Chancers

Baxter Dury is that rarest of things, the child of a star (Ian Dury), who has gone on to escape his father’s shadow. On The Night Chancers, the focus is always with Dury jr., across a series of hazy vignettes. You might expect his self-described “bloke talking over music with some strings” formula to wear thin across 10 tracks, but the understated production ensures every cut lands on its feet. No song overstays its welcome; there’s not a single foray beyond 4 minutes. This is essential when Dury has essentially one mode of delivery. Under a lesser songwriter, this might grate; to Dury, it’s an advantage. The result is powerful, rendering vivid characters that float through the album. Be it the slimy ‘Slumlord’, or the “polo lizards” of ‘Saliva Hog’, every personality feels high-definition. His turn of phrase pulls you directly into each scene, every syllable fleshes out the panorama. Dury makes the most incisive observations seem obvious.

Then there’s the music. You have to hand it to him, Dury doesn’t churn out a tune that you couldn’t hum, or quote a lyric from. Not every track lands both, but when they do, there are fireworks. By the time we reach the penultimate effort, you’d think Baxter would’ve expended his arsenal. But then, rather unexpectedly, he plays it straight. This is the most affecting moment on the record – with so many characters, there’s nothing so unexpected as Dury being himself. Although, even this isn’t as ambitious as ‘Say Nothing’. Dury was never going to finish on a staid track, and he doesn’t; the last lyrics we hear are “Baxter loves you”. It’s a fitting end to the album; for half an hour, we see the world through Baxter Dury’s eyes – it’s an experience quite unlike any other.