Mark Knopfler: Kill to Get Crimson

Since his days as the leader of British rock band Dire Straits, guitarist and composer Mark Knopfler has always shown a knack for the cinematic. Not surprisingly, he’s now known for his movie soundtrack work, but his former band’s first and most enduring hit, “Sultans of Swing,” plays like a miniature film about a subject he knows well—being a musician. Knopfler’s own tale of musical fame and the unexpected turns it took makes an even better story. After the low-key, balding Englishman became an unlikely rock star, he stepped out of the arena limelight to pursue projects more suited to his consummate taste and skill than the limited vocabulary of rock music. To the chagrin of Dire Straits fans and record company accountants alike, Knopfler’s smattering of solo records all but shun the formula that begat his mainstream success. His fifth solo album, Kill to Get Crimson, is an understated curiosity that displays his storyteller’s eye and his affection for the quaint settings of old English folk songs.

Actually, these songs are more like sketches than narratives, with an impressionistic quality achieved through perceptive details and intuitive accompaniment. A quiet wistfulness permeates the record, which is peopled with creased characters that have few illusions about their lives. In the ambling, minor-key “Behind With the Rent,” a relationally scarred down-and-outer chases after fleeting pleasures, fully aware of his decrepit inner condition. (“This didn’t used to be me, old boy/ This isn’t what I’d want/ Pulling old night fighters in a restaurant/ There’s smoke and flames behind me where the self-respect all went/ and I’m behind, behind with the rent.”)

The 19^th century street balladeer in “Madame Geneva’s” watches his fellow villagers as they make a day’s event of a public execution. His artistic sensitivity is both blessing and curse, allowing him to see into the darkness and hypocrisy of their hearts: “The pews are all full of fine fellows/ And the hawker has set up her shop/ As they’re turning them off at the gallows/ She’ll be selling right under the drop, boys/ Selling right under the drop/ Then you’ll find me in Madame Geneva’s/ Keeping the demons at bay/ There’s nothing like gin for drowning them in/ But they’ll always be back on a hanging day.”

“The Secondary Waltz” is a testament to Knopfler’s fertile imagination, eliciting discomforting humor from a gymnasium full of boys being taught to dance by a tyrannical ex-army officer. Through the metaphor of dance, the song captures a 6th grader’s deep apprehension of the opposite sex. (“And we danced with ourselves, when we'd all found a space/ Waltzing with fear in our hearts/ Comes the day of the final manoeuvres, all of our heads are awhirl/ It's getting much closer to D-day/ This time we're gonna do it with girls.”)

The much-maligned pawnbroker in “Heart Full of Holes” defends his humble profession by pointing out that he makes good on his pledges while “some folks sell their bodies for ten bob a go (and) politicians go pawning their souls.” In lines like “a clarinet squeals to be free,” Knopfler’s description of the pawnshop’s inventory gives it personality, creating a powerful symbol of humanity’s still-unpaid spiritual debt. (“Redeeming your pledge, dear/ I’ll keep it for you/ It’s not going to go anywhere/ But your soul, your soul/ That is not what I do/ There’s not a lot I can do there.”)

Knopfler’s current work makes no bones about his disinterest in the simplistic accessibility of mainstream fare, and as such, it requires some effort to fully absorb the depth and subtleties of the disc. If rock music is a fast-food fish sandwich, Knopfler’s Kill to Get Crimson asks the listener to help clean and cook his catch. Those willing to take the challenge may just find the kind of hooks that will remain imbedded for some time to come.