The enduring spirit of a 70s icon finds a new voice in a new century.
For those of us who came of age in the 1970s, the name David Essex is synonymous with a certain kind of pop stardom. He was the quintessential British heartthrob, the leather-clad rebel with a poet’s heart who moved effortlessly from glam rock to musical theatre. His voice, a melodic and slightly husky instrument, was the soundtrack to countless teenage dreams, filling rooms with the rebellious echoes of “Rock On” and the romantic sweep of “A Winter’s Tale.” For decades, his narrative seemed to be set in stone: a rock star, a stage actor, a legend whose greatest musical triumphs were confined to the golden era of vinyl.
And then, in 2005, something utterly unexpected happened. A quiet, contemplative track called “Relocate” appeared on an album by the highly revered, yet decidedly indie-pop, group Saint Etienne, and the voice singing its poignant lyrics was none other than David Essex himself. This wasn’t a nostalgic rehash or a classic cover; it was a brand-new collaboration that proved the artist’s enduring relevance and artistic curiosity. The song never came close to the charts, a fact that is both irrelevant and part of its charm. It was a gift for the longtime fan, a reward for those who knew that Essex was more than just his hits, and a testament to the unexpected places art can take a person.
The genesis of “Relocate” is a fascinating meeting of two distinct musical generations. Saint Etienne, composed of Bob Stanley and Pete Wiggs, are musical historians and archivists in their own right, celebrated for their unique blend of 60s pop aesthetics and modern electronic production. Their 2005 concept album, “Tales from Turnpike House,” was designed as a series of vignettes about the lives of residents in a London housing block. For the track that would become “Relocate,” they had a specific vision: a song about leaving a place and the memories associated with it, and they felt only one voice could deliver the necessary blend of gravitas and warmth. They reached out to Essex, and to their delight, he not only agreed to sing but also co-wrote the lyrics, making the song an authentic personal reflection.
The result is a minor masterpiece of melancholy. The track is built on a gentle, hypnotic rhythm, a steady electronic beat that feels like the quiet march of time. Essex’s vocal performance here is miles away from the swagger of his early work. It’s a mature, almost conversational delivery, carrying the weight of a life lived. He sings of “old street signs that I can still recall,” and of seeing his own reflection in the “window of a car,” and in these simple observations, he captures the bittersweet essence of nostalgia. The meaning of the song is clear and powerful: it is a meditation on the fact that while we may physically leave places behind, the memories and emotions tied to them never truly vanish. The very act of relocating becomes a poignant journey inward, a final farewell to who we once were.
To hear David Essex’s voice on this track is to be reminded that true artistry never fades; it simply evolves. For listeners who grew up with him, “Relocate” is a quiet revelation. It’s the sound of a man who has lived a full life, looking back not with regret, but with a serene understanding of how the past shapes the present. It stands as a testament to his versatility and willingness to embrace a new, more stripped-back sound. It is a song for a rainy Sunday, for a long car ride, or for any moment when you find yourself lost in thought, reflecting on all the places and people that have made you who you are.
Oldies Songs