There is a line on ‘Glory Days’, the poignant, rousing centrepiece of Karima Francis’s extraordinary new album, ‘The Remedy’, that tells you, in just a few words, where the Blackpool singer-songwriter is coming from. “They are weak but strong,” she sings, “who fail but carry on.”
She looks full – of life, of determination, of confidence – as she says this. “Well, I am. I didn’t have that last tim e. I knew things were going on, but it didn’t feel like this. And because of that, I have this real sense of achievement this time. This record feels like my masterpiece.” Another laugh. “So far!”
That last remark is very Karima – a bit of bombast, a touch of mischief, and typical of the northern lass who, no matter how dark some of her days have been, has always responded to adversity with a knowing sense of a humour and an enduring belief in salvation – through love and friendship; and above all, through music. “Music saved me,” Karima agrees. “And that must mean I’m meant to do it.” You can hear that belief when she says, matter-of-factly in parting: “Look, there was a reason I took a break – but I’m back now.” And you can hear it, also, on ‘The Remedy’ – in every note and every word. You’d better believe it too.
