Danbert Nobacon

Danbert Nobacon has earned his place in the canon of well-known unknowns. Kicking around in Leeds since the late ‘70s, Nobacon was a founder and vocalist of Chumbawamba, which though they only had one international radio hit (1997’s “Tubthumping” ) managed to keep the royalties flowing and the tours rolling until the band’s demise in 2004. Now he’s back on Chicago’s Bloodshot Records with a debut solo outing that only a certified veteran could produce.

Although the impact of Nobacon’s musical offering is felt upon first listen, it’s also one of those “creepers,” “sleepers” or “seepers” (however you want to word it) wherein the songs and the downright artistry involved only open up after repeated exposure. The rewards are great – almost revelatory – but the extra investment is required to fully appreciate the treasure within.

Despite how one might be predisposed to view The Library Book of the World given Chumbawamba’s history, this is not one-hit wonder, get-rich quick, use-once-and-destroy pop music. It’s also not a bludgeon and impale, politicking musical manifesto. It’s artfully layered, full of lyrical twists and turns that include insidious declarations, wholesome ruminations, contemptuous wordplays and, perhaps most of all, damn good music.

The arrangements are sparse for the most part, which gives the songs and their subject matter the wind to sail. All in all, it’s the work of a songwriter who is a journeyman at his craft, reaching what he’s after creatively. These are songs for the tavern, both the stage and the bar. And though Danbert’s voice is a bit of an acquired taste, his delivery is impeccable. It seethes with the integrity of conviction, sways with the power of knowledge and soothes with the empathy of experience. There’s an underlying vein of humor throughout the disc, but in the end, what else is there in the face of unrelenting, apathetic ignorance?