A few weeks ago I randomly stumbled over a music video. I didn’t give it much notice, I rather let it play in the background whilst doing something else. But the words of the song seeped through the something else and I ended up listen to it over and over.
Keaton Henson is a London-based singer, writer and artist, and I am most likely forever hooked. Not only does he make the music on his own, he also creates their videos. Apparently this is an attempt to avoid ever having to perform on a stage, due to a severe stage fright, and nurture his fans with Vimeo-videos. Although this limits my chances of ever hearing him live, it also enhances the feeling of real. Henson creates to touch, and the fame-bit doesn’t seem as important. For me, it is his texts, or lyrics, or poems that mesmerize. They are all dyed with the realness, and they make me wonder why no one has ever thought of writing them before.
In a sense, Keaton Henson reminds me of Bon Iver’s Justin Vernon; the feelings from a heartbreaking break-up made into an album that leaves listeners crying, and worthlessly analyzing. The lack of a Wikipedia-page makes the background research hard, and having read his texts an impressive number of times, this unawareness bothers me for there is so much sadness there that needs to be understood. It might be that Henson’s texts have the same unfortunate reason as Vernon’s, or maybe not.
Regardless, his texts bull’s-eye their way straight into your heart.