- Ernest Ellis has always been a difficult sum to add up. There’s that curious concoction of styles: hints of indie-pop, folk, rock, touches of country, a ghostly ethereality and that leathery, smoky voice. Walking so many different paths at once, it was very difficult to be certain it would appeal to anyone. Perhaps it’s the part of me that roots for the anti-hero, fascinated by the dark stranger: I kept listening, hoping that strange voice would find the ears it was searching for.

Several years on and, well, he’s still making records, so that’s a start, but I don’t know if his mysterious identity has resolved itself at all. If anything the situation has only become more complex.

On his last record, where he worked as Ernest Ellis And The Panamas you could already hear elements of lounge and electronica moving in and these have returned in force on his latest, Cold Desire. In a recent interview Ellis said that, on this record, he wanted to be uncompromisingly honest and candidly admitted that the result of that was one thing: sleaze.

Synth, lounge and sleaze have of course, always fitted easily into the same grimy linen suit and Ellis croons with an uneasy soul, like some used-up, beach-bar, Barry Manilow clone.

Actually, in this regard, the guy I kept thinking of was another Australian synth-smoltz revivalist: Geoffrey O’Connor. Their imitation of 80’s synth-balladry is eerily similar.

In both cases, there’s an unavoidable dose of hipster irony that goes along with trying to be your own plastic 80’s clone. There were times on my first listen to Cold Desire that I experienced a nearly physical desire to reject what Ernest Ellis is doing: how can anyone appreciate this in a way that isn’t ironic? The utter inauthenticity of this Frankenstein’s monster of styles completely overwhelmed any enjoyment I might have had.

Returning to Ellis’ own words however, this isn’t inauthentic, this record is an honest expression of what he’s thinking, however unflattering that might be and if you can accept that it will help you comprehend every bizarre stylistic addition: the country guitar work with the saxophone, the harmonica with the synthesiser, binding these strange love songs together.

In the process I began to notice other reference markers for this odd journey. If anyone has made synth country their own, that would be Beck Hansen and right from the opening track, Clean Machine, there are moments where Ellis’ baritone sounds uncannily like Beck’s own. Single, Shine Like Me, with it’s countrified hip hop beat, is almost a fascimile for Odelay or Midnight Vultures era Beck. You’ll find touches of Nick Cave too, relaxing into piano-bar mode: there a lot of parallels for him in the likes of both parts of the song Black Wire.

This isn’t Scott Walker but I did have to pay a price to comprehend what Ellis is doing here. I don’t know what you’ll feel for this record: Cold Desire is quite possibly the strangest thing Ernest Ellis has ever done, but, spend some time, it may be the most compelling as well.

- Chris Cobcroft.