Jonathan Jeremiah - Horsepower For The Streets (LP)

Jonathan Jeremiah’s Horsepower For The Streets is one of those records that creeps up on you. The London singer’s fifth album, released in 2022, leans into the timeless charms that have always set him apart. That baritone sits somewhere between Scott Walker’s velvet and Richard Hawley’s steel, and it rides a bed of strings and rhythm parts that feel lovingly played, not pieced together. He has chased this lane since A Solitary Man in 2011, but here the songwriting snaps into sharper focus. The title alone hints at motion and grit, and the music follows through with a slow, steady pulse built for late city nights.

The title track is the obvious gateway. It glides on a patient groove and a melody that feels familiar by the second chorus. Jeremiah’s phrasing is unhurried, each syllable drawn out just enough to make the line land. He has always favored restraint over vocal fireworks, and that choice ages well. Where some retro-soul pastiches fall flat, he keeps his compass set on songs first. Arrangements swell, then disappear, letting the voice and an unshowy guitar figure do the heavy lifting. It is an old trick, but when it works, it works.

What makes Horsepower For The Streets feel special is the attention to texture. Real strings, real horns, drums with air around them. Nothing is bricked up. You can hear bow against string, the breath right before a trumpet comes in. That kind of detail rewards a good listen on a decent hi-fi, which is why the Horsepower For The Streets vinyl has been getting regular spins at my place. The album’s pacing suits a full side too. He lines up mid-tempo soul, a bruised ballad, a sunlit shuffle, then casts you back onto the street. You flip the record and do it again.

Jeremiah is a classicist, but he avoids slavish tribute. The songs nod to 60s orchestral soul and folk, though they are clearly written in and for a modern city. There’s a tenderness to the way he writes about longing and daily weather, a little fray at the edges that keeps everything human. He has a knack for bridges that tilt the song just enough to feel like a fresh view. A string figure steps forward, a guitar switches from strum to picked line, and suddenly you’re in a new room. It is careful songwriting, dressed up just enough to glow.

He is also, not quietly, a romantic. That’s part of the appeal. Even when the lyric tilts toward melancholy, there’s a kindness in the delivery. You hear it in the way the bass and drums follow his voice, holding back, then pushing a half step when he needs it. Soul music only really lands when the band listens hard, and you can feel that happening here. It’s not a showy record. It’s a patient one.

If you’re browsing a Melbourne record store and you see Jonathan Jeremiah vinyl in the soul or singer songwriter bins, pull a copy. Fans of Terry Callier, early Van Morrison, or the string-kissed side of Lee Hazlewood will hear a kindred spirit. He has built a steady following across Europe on the strength of this craft, touring rooms that prize good sound and good songs. You can see why. These tracks feel built for a concert hall that smells like wood and old fabric, the sort of place where a whisper carries to the back row.

The pressing quality matters too, because the album’s charm is locked up in dynamics. Quiet-loud swings, brushed cymbals, that low hum of the orchestra. If you like your system to earn its keep, this is a good record for it. It’s also the kind of LP that sends you hunting for more. You start with Horsepower For The Streets vinyl, then go looking for previous Jonathan Jeremiah albums on vinyl. Good Day, Oh Desire, the debut. They hang together as a body of work, all orbiting the same warm center.

For anyone building a thoughtful collection, this is a safe and rewarding pick. If you prefer to buy Jonathan Jeremiah records online, availability has been solid, and the price tends to sit in that sweet mid-range where you do not have to think twice. It’s a strong recommendation for fans of classic songwriting and tasteful orchestration. And if you’re building out shelves of soul, jazz, and singer songwriter vinyl records Australia wide, consider this a handshake from London. Quiet confidence, deep grooves, a voice that knows when to lean in and when to lay back. That’s the horsepower here.