Bangor's latest indie darling, Benjamin Martin, is laying his soul on "Lonely Day," a pure, acoustic jewel that combines folk contemplation with a homemade touch that is close yet distant. At just 22 years old, his songwriting has undeniable maturity. "Lonely Day" is inspired by personal pangs of emotional disconnect caused by a moment of feeling overlooked in a budding relationship. It goes headfirst into the ache of isolation, not with bitterness, but with a thoughtful vulnerability. It's a song for anyone who ever sat quietly in the wake of a fading affection and wondered how things got so distant.
Penned during his period of creative reinvigoration following a stretch of writer's block, it came together surprisingly rapidly for Martin, both in terms of the melody and the words, while the sunlit sadness of Joni Mitchell's California wafted from a car stereo. It can be felt on the soft strumming of the track, the airy bongos, and the melodic bass lines, which pay homage to R.E.M. bassist Mike Mills and lend "Lonely Day" a gorgeously vintage feel without it feeling like it's caught in the past.
Benjamin recorded it in his bedroom, using only a humble mic and a good measure of artistic intention. The limitations only added his own character. The recording is lo-fi but crystal-clear in terms of feel, distinct in the spirit of folk-rock, Neil Young, and the literary sincerity of early Beatles and Simon & Garfunkel. One can sense the creak of the floor, the heartbeat of the tambourine, and the breath before the verses. It is music pulsating. However, you can truly be amazed by Martin's blessing to make isolation feel less forlorn.
Although "Lonely Day" was constructed from a touchy time in Martin's life, his new single feels significantly more far-reaching. It sings to that universality in human yearning for clarity, for newness, for only one day when all the weight of the world lifts off your shoulders. With an album due later this year, Benjamin Martin's "Lonely Day" feels like a declaration of his landing. Not overly clean but delightfully completed, this is that song that checks its way onto playlists for long drives, calm morning writing, and when the house is coming down and you're remaining in the kitchen void through midnight. With this voice, we'll definitely be hearing more of Benjamin Martin.