The Latest Album, DVD & Book Reviews - AUGUST 2008
If you can't find what you are looking for here, go to the alphabetical section
If her last album, A Handful Of Hurricanes, was, with its scouring sonic squalls and scalding blues, a bold challenge to folk fans seduced by her acoustic debut and the fact she’s Maddy and Rick’s daughter, then the follow up is even more so.
Her inherited heritage of darkling trad folk is still patently evident, but she’s clearly been eating a lot of spiders in the interim, not to mention soaking up drone and Black Metal influences and feeding them into her already potent mix of experimental alt rock, jazz and blistering gothic operatics.
Produced and mixed by Chris Sheldon whose impressive CV includes the Foo Fighters and Biffy Clyro, she sets out her stall from the opening track, Dirty Glow which, accompanied by plucked strings and a plangent musical mood evocative of a medieval Eastern market, sees her voice prowl across the scales with sexually feral intent.
The itchy goblin-like, cauldron bubbling Nanny’s World digs further into the skull, taking a trad folk heart and twisting it with an insidious chant beat and rasping guitar storms before fading away on an organ drone.
Bitter And Sweet, with its images of sexual violence, shrieks and swoops both vocally and musically, grinding intense guitar plastered over with devil’s fiddle to conjure an unholy marriage of Brecht and Black Sabbath. Then there’s doomy piano chords to open Flawless, a song that catches you offguard by then slipping into Kemp’s frayed nerve yet tender soprano operatics as she sings of the beauty of imperfections.
There’s a touch of Procol Harum circa A Salty Dog here, and the same air blows across the funereal waltzing Saturday Night with its despairing lines about being ‘all lairy and lost’ while the anthemic exaltation of Nature’s Hymn is what Pachabel’s Canon might be as envisaged as a Derek Jarman soundtrack.
Wholeness Sounds is probably the most conventional number, Kemp sounding like June Tabor at her deepest and darkest against a guitar figure out of Metallica’s wardrobe. But then the home stretch plunges back into the maelstrom with Vacancies’ delirious cocktail of Black Metal and demented Kate Bush and Milky White where, accompanied by just a drone, she sings as if calling the faithful to prayer from atop some Armenian mountain.
Surely owing a debt to Scandinavian Black Folk Metal, she closes on The Unholy, an intense, deliberate nine sonic minutes of soul-throbbing, head-expanding celebration of the untrammelled and enviable power of being ‘young and foolish and wreckless (sic)’. Quite frankly, astonishing.
www.rosekemp.com
www.myspace.com/rosekemp
Mike Davies September 2008
They may take their name from the Steely Dan album but that’s where any comparison ends. Built around guitarist/songwriter Duncan Hamilton and vocalist/guitarist Dan Britton (formerly of Storm Thieves and regular collaborator with Chris Conway), they hail from Up North but make music straight out of 60s California with ringing, chiming guitars, rootsy-pop melodies and close harmonies.
They’ve got some good friends too, the Nigel Stonier produced (and co-written) album featuring backing vocals from Thea Gilmore plus contributions from John Kirkpatrick (squeezing the accordion on the lovely Waltz For Beginners), Al Perkins (adding keening pedal steel to The Distance), The Little River Band’s Beeb Birtles (vocals on Every Time You Call My Name) and Cindy Bullens who lends her powerful voice to the Petty influenced funky Crash And Burn.
But they certainly don’t need anyone else’s light to shine. Opening with the janglingly catchy title track, they deliver further highlights in a harmonica led Americana of Coming Soon, the Byrdsyian twangy Waiting On The Line, the moody desert folk feel of Going Down and the Gram reminiscent Further. Having only got together two years ago, this is the duo’s first album. On this offering, more will be most welcome.
Mike Davies September 2008
Following on from debut album Shine Like It Does and the ever more impressive follow-ups Long Shot Novena and Come The Storm, the Irish-Italian American singer-songwriter returns with her fourth outing, an album of love and loss, life and death, steeped in the sound of Detroit, from Motown soul to White Stripes rock.
Those looking for her earlier country roots will be pleased to discover the Gram-like swaggering $20 Shoes, a scuffed and skittering bluegrassy Blue Mood Words, two step swayer Jeannie Steps Out and the turning train wheels rhythm of Failure To Thrive. But even these have a sharper edge while Seven Winds is pure dreamy pop, Doesn't Mean A Thing heads down a rock n soul path, Will-O-The Wisp offers a bluesy gospel country duet with Nick Lucassian while The Day Before sees the album climax with a slow building, organ-backed, heart-tearing Maria McKee meets Lucinda Williams ballad. It's taken a while for the word to spread, but this should finally get everybody talking.
www.eileenrose.com
www.myspace.com/eileenrosemusic
Mike Davies March 2008
Born in Scotland and raised in Ontario and Alberta, Maria Dunn is a singer and a writer of songs - for which, read storyteller in song. She combines North American folk and country styles with influences of her Celtic heritage, and does so in a natural and appealing way without a trace of artifice or fusion-forcing.
For A Song is Maria's second album, and was first released in Canada back in 2002, only now gaining a wider distribution deal (via Rounder): and not before time, for it's a very fine set indeed, one that makes me want to hear the albums either side (1998's From Where I Stand and 2004's We Were Good People) real soon. Maria's songs are generally concerned with the struggles and triumphs of historical and contemporary characters, whom she brings to life vividly and with a strong feel of intuitive or inside knowledge; several of the songs take their title from these characters' names (Annie Weaver, Nan McGowan, Maggie Thompson).
For A Song features 11 of Maria's own original songs, and backing is provided by Canadian Celtic band The McDades with Shannon Johnson (violin) and Craig Korth (banjo, guitar, dobro) and further guests including Jerusalem Ridge. That is, aside from the 12th track, which is a tremendous acappella rendition of a traditional Newfoundland song Grá Geal Mo Chroi (sung in English). Maria's an excellent singer, and has a natural clarity of expression allied to a forthright purity of tone: a most attractive combination. She can turn those vocal chords equally adeptly to Celtic and bluegrass stylings, as consecutive tracks The Lingan Strike (her energetic tale of the Cape Breton coal miners' protest of 1882) and Lonesome And Then Some show, while the contemporary narrative ballad is well within her ambit too (Maggie Thompson, Heather Down Road), and Poor Lonesome Hen finds her at home with the idiom of the Gaelic waulking song. The reflective What Did I Do? raises more than just the obvious personal question in its memorable musings, whereas Take It Easy On Me presents a beautifully controlled country-ballad setting wherein Maria takes a host of different viewpoints and finds common ground in order to make a plea for social justice. Nan McGowan may not go quite as far as the proverbial stitch in time, but she sure stands up to her drunken husband (to a disarmingly merry musical backdrop too!). And the disc ends with God Bless Us Everyone, an inspired “Parting Glass”-type chorus anthem that really should be more widely-circulated.
For A Song is an album that's crammed full of timeless music, seriously high-quality songs (many with incredibly catchy, lilting melodies to boot!) that could've been written yesterday. Its diverse musical influences could so easily have made for an aimless, unsatisfying and inconsistent brew, but through Maria's skill it all comes together to make one of the most impressive records I've heard come out of Canada in recent years, and affirms Maria as a major talent.
David Kidman August 2008
Having seen good chum Rufus Wainwright soar free of his father's shadow and become both critically feted and a huge commercial success, Richard and Linda's offspring should follow in his spangly footsteps with this, his fourth album. Produced by Marius de Vries, who also twiddles the knobs for Rufus, there's hints of dad there but more obvious reference points would be Orbison (or at least his Chris Isaak soundalike), Springsteen, McCartney and, on Jonathan's Book, the heady glories of Roddy Frame.
Kick off single, In My Arms, is just fabulous, twangy Orbisonesque mid tempo rockabilly pop with a carnival feel and Doug Sahm organ and, were there any justice, would be a massive hit. But then the album leaks catchy tunes. The self-flagellating opening The Things I Do has that hood down, open road Springsteen strummed chugging feel, Where To Go From Here is a shuffling country waltz, One Of These Days a brass blasting Jerry Lee Lewis rocker, and both the cascading 60s country pop melody of Don't Know What I Was Thinking and the closing title track's marching beat call to embrace life in its organic beauty rather than its palliatives make you want to dance down the street.
Addressing both despair and happiness with equal wit and humour, Thompson again proves a master lyricist to equal his father and, on the mordantly sly Turning The Gun On Myself (basically about not being able to get any rest with the New York street noise) even conjures the great Randy Newman. "I need ten more years to get to good" he sings on the hand-slapping rock n roll gospel blues Can't Sing Straight. He's wrong, he's at great already.
www.teddythompson.com
www.myspace.com/teddythompsonmusic
Mike Davies August 2008
Since he last released a studio album of new material back in 1999, Newman has largely been occupied spoiling award voters for choice with his copious soundtrack contributions, most notably for Disney, to the likes of Toy Story 2, Monsters, Inc, Cars, Meet The Parents/Fokkers, and Seabiscuit. Then there's been his live work and a solo piano re-recording of old songs for The Randy Newman Songbook Volume 1. Fortunately, somewhere along the way, he found some spare moments to put together a follow up to Bad Love, both taking on its masterpiece surpassing challenge and winning and proving he's not had his eyes, ears or heart closed to what's been going on around him for the past eight years. Wry, sardonic, ironic and insightful, on both a personal and political level, Newman's always had bite to his mellow, caressing the ears and making the feet itch but also prodding the brain into life too.
Who else could conjure a song like the title track, a lazy shuffling story about having a heart attack wrapped up with laconic humour as, having been told by God (who speaks French) there's been a clerical error, he returns to life, visits old friends to pass on the message about living clean and closes with 'let's go get a drink'. Working with a band that features Mitchell Froom on keyboards, Attractions drummer Pete Thomas, jazz bassist Greg Cohen, guitarist Steve Donnelly and pedal steel player Greg Leisz along with a full orchestra, he sounds a little like Dr John. That Dixieland jazz flavour's evident on several numbers here, the club combo mood and arrangements informing the brass and brushed drums of Easy Street, Only A Girl and Potholes, a talk sing celebration of the fairer sex and a droll appreciation of the crevices down which unwanted memories can slip as you get older.
Lovers of his lush cinematic arrangements will be swooning over the romantic reflections of Losing You which at times sounds like a companion piece to You've Got A Friend In Me, and the peaceful easy feeling of Feels Like Home. Dating back to his Faust concept piece, that closing track also serves reminder that, as well as film, Newman's also composed for musical theatre, a form evoked here with the chirpily cynical encouragement to immigrants to Laugh And Be Happy, which breaks out from Mardi Gras march to Ragtime Charleston, and A Piece of The Pie, a Brechtian cabaret number (complete with Flemish/French debate) about the American economy that comes with gags about social conscience flag flyers Bono and Jackson Browne.
It's the pervasive socio-political bite, though, that makes this such a sharp piece of work. Coloured by Oriental musical phrases, Korean Parents suggests outsourcing the raising of distracted American kids to competitive driven Asians parents, a sort of role reversal The King and I. And, of course, there's A Few Words In Defence Of Our Country, the lyrics of which The New York Times ran as an opinion piece, a rolling musical mix of country, New Orleans and vaudeville that laments the decline of the American Empire and (by way of protesting too much) compares the Bush administration and its patriotic climate of fear with the Caesars, the Spanish Inquisition, Stalin, Hitler and notorious Congo invader, King Leopold.
So, life, death, social critique, political analysis and personal salvation in just 36 minutes. Can you imagine what he'd do if he had more time to spare.
www.randynewman.com
www.myspace.com/randynewman
Mike Davies August 2008
In his blurb, Leven reckons this one of the best albums he's ever made. I doubt anyone's going to quibble with that, though it's a little disorienting when the first thing you hear, the 'psychosexual voodoo redneck' title track (a wry observation on the connectivity of firearms, sex and machismo inspired by a car trip with and stories told by Irish Canadian transsexual professional killer Shannon Doyle) actually features the liquid sleaze vocals of Johnny Dowd. He also takes spoken verse duties (Leven handles the sung chorus) on the sax soaked, neon lite rainy sidewalks slow funk groove of The Dent In The Fender And The Wheel Of Fate. A song about revisiting his dad's old yellow Lada, it's one of several numbers reflecting on the past and lost connections.
There's the memories of young crushes and runaway lovers on The Innocent Railway, the sense you can never truly go back on My Old Home's warm Celtic soul (think Van Morrison doing Springsteen's My Home Town) and the tender acoustic Woman In A Car (also inspired by dad's car and his parents) while I've Passed Away From Human Love is an aching lament of loss and the gospel blues doo wop Head Full Of War examines destructive inner rage.
It's a rich and eclectic album. Olivier Blues is a straight rewrite of blues chestnut My Babe which he claims to have grown from a fireside lyrical to and fro with Sir Larry, To Whom It May Concern is a spoken Irish mist setting of a poem by Kenneth Patchen, the jaunty countrified Fareham Confidential a snapshot of a city of lost souls which borrows the melody from Top Of The World and is surely the only song to namecheck Somerfields.
And, by way of a matching bookend, the last track, the yearning hymnal Americana of Heart In My Soul, not only hands over to another voice, American singer-songwriter David Childers, but is actually lifted from his own Hard Time Country album. Quite how the royalties work I don't now, but I think it's fair to say they don't come much more idiosyncratic, intoxicating, fascinating and generous than Leven.
www.jackieleven.co.uk
www.myspace.com/thejackieleven
Mike Davies August 2008
I know what you are thinking - how could they get enough tracks to make up a volume 2? You would think that that would be the case but they've obviously held over a few top tracks to whet the appetite. Whichever way you think about Skiffle you have to agree that it does have a vital place in British Rock history. There is good and bad and this album has both. From the better Gospel based tracks such as Glory Road by The Vipers (one of the best known bands), Bob Cort's It Takes A Worried Man To Sing A Worried Song and The City Ramblers Skiffle Group's Down By The Riverside to the less well performed Toll The Bell Easy from Les Hobeaux Skiffle Group (a very British executed song) and Delta Skiffle Group's repetitive and second rate Ain't You Glad, all standards are here. There were many influences on Skiffle and the better tacks include Johnny Duncan's bluegrass offering, Ella Speed, the Blues of Ken Colyer's Midnight Hour Blues (just add a washboard and you have Skiffle), Rock n Roll in the form of Dickie Bishop's No Other Baby, the Country tones of Careless Love by The City Ramblers Skiffle Group, folk from 2.19 Skiffle Group on Texas Lady, boogie-woogie in the form of Bearcat Crawl from Chris Barber and Jazz from Tony Donegan on Yes Suh although the last of these is of particularly poor recording quality.
The one true giant of British Skiffle was, of course, Lonnie Donegan and he has three tracks on offer. He shows us that he was the boss on Midnight Special and Jesse James. However, he is a bit sedate on Stackolee which is Stagolee under a different guise. There are other tracks more associated with Donegan such as Cumberland Gap (The Vipers) and Don't You Rock Me (Bob Cort) that don't measure up to his standard. Skiffle influenced many future artists and those include John Lennon who couldn't have failed to be affected by The Vipers' Railroad Steamboat, Steamline Train, Hey Lily Lily Lo and Maggie May, part of which ended up on the Let It Be album.
Famous songs include Last Train To San Fernando from Johnny Duncan, New Orleans (House Of The Rising Sun) & The Cotton Song (Cotton Fields), they pronounced their T's in those days, by Chas McDevitt and Bob Cort's 6.5 Special. You have to suspend belief at times such as when a very posh British female sings "I was born in East Virginy" on Chas McDevitt's Green Back Dollar - yeah right! Jimmy Miller tries too hard to be American on Sizzling Hot. All the familiar themes are there including trains in the form of Chas McDevitt's Freight Train, Sonny Stewarts's The Northern Line and Railroad Bill by Lea Valley Skiffle Group.
One thing about Skiffle singers was that piercing tone just under the sound barrier that they had and shining examples of that are Johnny Duncan's Footprints In The Snow and Sonny Stewart's Black Jack. Ken Colyer's piano led instrumental, House Rent Stomp has a homemade feel and that, in essence, is what Skiffle was all about. British blues giant Alexis Korner sounds positively amateurish on Roadhouse Stomp but, again it was that which made the genre so widespread. Skiffle really harks back to a previous time and Soho Skiffle's Give Me A Big Fat Woman would have today's PC brigade up in arms. Jimmy Jackson's California Zephyr gives me my biggest problem and, after listening to it a number of times, I am convinced that it reminds me of another, more popular song. Can someone please put me out of my misery?
There is no mistaking the influence that Skiffle had on the musical forms that came after it. This album features some of the best but Frog Island Skiffle Group sum things up on Hand Me Down My Walking Cane. They've got the repetition, they've got the tone, they've got Skiffle!
David Blue August 2008
Here's an obscenely low-priced 13-track compilation that showcases some of today's headliners in the folk firmament, all of whose discs illustrated being distributed by Proper. I suspect it's aimed mostly at the relative newcomer to folk music as we know it, who may only have heard the names, have liked what little of the music they've heard but have been a little wary of dipping more than their toes in the water so to speak. In which case what better way to investigate further? With a fabulous lineup comprising Eliza Carthy, Martin Simpson, Lau, Bellowhead, the Drever, McCusker, Woomble collaboration, Karine Polwart and Cara Dillon, not to mention Kathryn Williams & Neill MacColl, Mary Gauthier, the Waifs, Luka Bloom, Sharon Shannon and Athena, there's not much chance of going wrong - even though a couple of the choices (like Sharon Shannon's Galway Girl) are a mite curious in context. For diehard fans of the artists, well there are carrots in the form of what are claimed to be exclusive tracks: the Bellowhead selection's a gutsy live medley, the Drever et al. is described as an exclusive version, the Eliza a monitor mix version, and the Martin Simpson cut is taken from a DVD and not otherwise released on CD. So this turns out to be an excellent bargain in anyone's book - you could even buy up a handful of copies and they'd make great birthday or Christmas presents...
David Kidman August 2008
Gospel meets rockabilly, anyone? Well that's what comes blastin' out of your speakers at the start of this sparky offering from Eilen Jewell and a handful of her like-minded chums. Prominent in the mix is a hard-driven slapped bass, with guitars, fiddle, banjo and drumkit all doin' their bit to propel the message forward. Eilen, you'll remember, gave us that memorable s/s album Letters From Sinners And Strangers last year, so she's no stranger to down-home hillbilly old-time gospel traditions. As you can hear on her earthy and committed handling of repertoire classics like Twelve Gates To The City, Travelin' Shoes and Hank Williams' Ready To Go Home (in this respect, it's a pity Eilen doesn't get to take the lead on a few more songs!).
The Sacred Shakers band was originally assembled by drummer Jason Beek, along with Eilen, bass-man Johnny Sciascia and bluegrass singer Daniel Fram, subsequently completing the lineup for this record with vocalist Greg Glassman, banjoist Eric Royer, guitarist Jerry Miller and fiddler Daniel Kellar. In other words, most of the complement are musicians from Eilen's own touring band, so they work well together and know just where they can take the music.
Comparatively well-trodden gospel favourites like John The Revelator, Jordan Is A Hard Road To Travel and Gospel Plow get a gutsy fresh coat of paint, while a less frantic country-blues treatment for Banks Of The River and Green Pastures proves a wise choice and the good ol' Titanic is given a solid reading too. Vocal duties are shared out among band members pretty equally, and there's not a weak link in there. It would seem from the press release that Daniel Fram has since left the band, though, which will leave a bit of a gap in the vocal department (he takes the lead on several numbers on the disc). So if you're in the mood for a set of uplifting gospel tracks that retain the oldtime vibe, well you don't have to have got religion to appreciate these vital, honest, down-to-earth and accessible performances.
David Kidman August 2008
Whatever though, the first thing you hear on cranking up the CD is a thudding, battering tribal drumbeat that might lead you to think someone's palmed you an Adam & The Ants or Tenpole Tudor disc in error. But, like all the other elements in the sound picture, this particular approach vector makes sense in the context of the tale Seth's about to tell, that of The Hurlers, which he launches (or should I say hurls into?) without further ado. And when the frantic rhythmic strum of an acoustic guitar enters the fray, it might almost be a lost Led Zepp track - were it not for the catchy chorus! This opening salvo is typical of the wide-screen method of Seth Lakeman: big gestures to tell big tales, exciting and stirring as the rugged and dramatic west-country coastline that inspires him. Both impression-making and impressive, Seth's music is folk on a grand scale, relentless as the sea itself, with an equivalent sense of danger, romance and elemental moodiness, all qualities reflected in the actual stories too. Seth's got a real gift for absorbing into his own songwriting the wellspring of folk heritage, either directly or creatively paraphrased where contemporary concerns provide an overlay for age-old legends (eg Blood Red Sky, Greed And Gold).
Seth's songs tend generally to be primarily rhythm-driven rather than melody-driven, yet there are melodies in there, and the more lyrical of his creations can be surprisingly gentle in their own way. Even the heavy-duty pounding riff of Feather In A Storm doesn't quite wreck the levee, but provides a foil to the sturdy imagery. The overall aggression of the Seth Lakeman sound can be deceptive... For even when the pace itself slackens, as on Greed And Gold and Solomon Browne (which concerns the reporting of the 1981 Penlee lifeboat tragedy), the tension and passion are still there in abundance. Seth's impassioned, often quite plaintive vocal delivery matches the mighty settings, both in directness and economy, and his instrumental skills can't be faulted (for instance, his violin playing isn't all full-on frantic loose-hair tactics, there's plenty of sensitivity in his technique too). Nor for that matter can those of his band-collaborators: brother Sean (tremendous guitar work), Ben Nicholls (some particularly solid bass work I thought) and Andy Tween (whose drumming provides a backbone signature to most of the tracks). And Seth brings in guest musicians for some inventive incidental cameo touches of instrumentation - Jake Walton's droning hurdy gurdy on Blood Red Sky, for instance - and the bouncy jew's harp on the whaling tale Race To Be King adds excitement to the chase.
Also, it's worth noting that although Steve Knightley has co-written three of the disc's standout tracks (including the awesome I'll Haunt You), and I do detect a slight Show Of Hands influence especially in elements such as the strong mando-riffing on the latter-mentioned track and Crimson Dawn, absolutely nothing is allowed to detract from the expression of Seth's own unmistakable and unshakeable musical personality. For this is a mighty album, it makes a mighty impact and I for one don't care whether it frightens some or all of the horses.
David Kidman August 2008
Last year, in celebration of the enormous amount of new talent on the UK folk scene, Proper Distribution released a compilation Folk Rising, which gathered together a large number of the up-and-coming acts for our delectation and as a mechanism for us to sample many whom we might not otherwise get the chance to hear - including as it did several artists who don't tend to get granted the radio airplay that's seemingly automatically accorded to the Rusbys, Carthys and now Bellowheads of the folk world (not that they don't deserve their success, but…). When the time came for a sequel this year, it proved impossible for the compilers to shoehorn all the exciting new talents onto just one CD – hence this double-disc set. It's an enterprising selection that programmes some already well-heralded names-to-watch like Ruth Notman and Mawkin: Causley with some altogether more obscure names definitely deserving of wider exposure. The omission of some key names is an inevitable consequence of the distributor's own list, not an artistic judgement in any way of course. But there is no weak link, and several really strong ones, on this sampler. Even though I'm well acquainted with many of the artists represented (well, their music!), this sampler introduced me to at least half a dozen completely new names, all but one of which I've determined to investigate further, and very soon (even that exception being of top quality but not quite as much to my personal taste). The actual choice of tracks from within CDs I already know is very apt, especially those from Ember, Mary Hampton, Bella Hardy, Kate Doubleday and Pillowfish; but I wouldn't take issue with any of the choices among the 23 on offer. Many are sourced from albums that are quite literally hot off the press, one or two even from forthcoming releases. The balance of material between traditional and self-penned is healthy; even so, such is the expertise and understanding of the contemporary writers that the boundaries get easily blurred - and let's face it, today's newly-composed may yet become tomorrow's tradition. The common factors in all of the chosen tracks are energy in performance and commitment to the music. There's technical virtuosity, sure, and classy singing and playing, but also depth of response and understanding, and intense creativity too, across a mastery of different styles that inform the interpretations and make them relevant to today's listeners without compromising expression or ideals. So the bottom line is that this collection is for you (a) if you're looking for something different, (b) if you're seeking new and stimulating musical experiences from within the folk scene, or (c) just want to hear what some of these "mere names" sound like (in which case you'll be knocked out, I bet, by some of the talents on display). Oh, and (d) if you're looking for an imaginative pressie for someone you love, or for a fellow music fan who thinks they've heard all there is to hear that's worthwhile. And it won't cost you an arm and a leg either.
David Kidman August 2008
After having been royally entertained, enchanted, enraptured by this unique ensemble's earlier (sort-of-breakthrough) disc The Secret Of Life (see review in archive), I'm gradually working my way through the remainder of the Orchestra's available recordings. For there is seemingly no limit to the possibilities for creative reinterpretation of music of all ages and styles through the medium of the humble ukulele. As this very CD proves. Of course, the question on your lips may well be “but doesn't the joke wear thin very quickly?” – well, the musical adventures of the ukulele orchestra may be enormous fun, but there is an element of seriousness in their method and practice, an intelligence of execution that transcends gimmickry, so merely to treat their music as a joke would be to insult that intelligence. So how might I best persuade you to give the UOGB a fair listen? Well, this CD may well be the most effective entry point. By and large, Top Notch lives up to its name: it's a compilation of sorts, described as “a shopping trolley dash through the archives of musical history” which draws on the UO's own “back catalogue” of recordings (presumably made at various points in the orchestra's own history between 1985 and 2003 when The Secret Of Life was recorded). Inevitably it's a bit of a grab-bag – but it struck me immediately how closely the tracklisting resembled a similarly mad dash through a cross-section of my own record collection (yeah OK, I'm weird too!), with late-70s punk classics unashamedly occupying (shelf and aural) space alongside singer-songwriters, popular and light classics, ragtime and jazz standards and superior kitsch. Ingeniously, all is grist to the mill of the ukulele orchestra. They fair make you believe that Tchaikovsky's Dance Of The Sugar Plum Fairy might have been written for the uke, and make good capital out of the Dambusters March, even if the Devil's Galop seems a trifle less diabolic at the ukes' pace and loses a little without its more infernal orchestration. The Kate Bush hit Wuthering Heights is transformed into a bit of an epic, while Teenage Kicks retains its gawky charm and cult classics from the Rezillos and the Only Ones are both deconstructed and reconstructed with considerable panache. So far, so good, in terms of Peel-like serendipity of repertoire. And this disc also contains a handful of vocal numbers composed by the orchestra's George Hinchliffe: these are pleasing enough, in the manner of the “light-hearted trash aesthetic” of the whole enterprise, but one or two of them outstay their welcome through over-exaggerated gesturing (eg The World's Greatest Scat Singer), as do isolated aspects of the arrangements elsewhere (the surfeit of bird-calls on In A Monastery Garden, for instance). So all in all, this compilation is a very fair representation of the kind of thing you might still expect to hear in a typical UOGB set (should there be such a thing) – brilliant successes and honourable (relative) failures all-inclusive… and even that evaluation is a matter of opinion and a different reviewer will no doubt come to a different conclusion. There's a useful liner note by George H himself, but the digipack is otherwise minimalist. (A discography would have been useful though, I feel – for why be coy about the orchestra's pedigree and its past achievements?)
David Kidman August 2008
Fronted by the Johnson sisters, Hannah (lead vocal and mandolin) and Sophia (guitar/harmonies) with dad Stewart on banjo and dobro, Howard Gregory again handling fiddle duties and Lauren Rogers taking over double bass, this is a fine consolidation of the Birmingham old school bluegrass outfit's If The Blues Come Calling debut. This time with all 11 tracks self-penned tales of love's ups and downs and each providing perfect settings for their vocal and instrumental dazzle.
Sounding like they've spent their lives in the Kentucky hills rather than Kings Heath, they open the set with Stronger, a title that aptly sums up Hannah's vocals that (as the title track also demonstrates) are raunchier than before.
Girl In Each State showcases the sort of picking that would make Ricky Scaggs envious while The Angels Sing To Me (namechecking Bill Monroe's high lonesome sound) finds them waltzing around the honky tonk floor with beer in one hand and a Bible in the other, Giving You Back Your Troubles hits the hot club and jazz-blues notes, Montepellier Street and Girl That You Can't Fool swing with Grapelli grooves and Fast Raging River conjures thoughts of early Johnny Cash recast as a bluegrass Lucinda Williams.
The musicianship here is breathtaking, the interplay between Stewart, Howard and Hannah quite simply some of the hottest bluegrass to be found in the genre, and when they let rip and set the strings smoking on Sly North Wind and Gregory squeezes sparks from his fiddle on I'll Keep Waiting, you can almost hear Monroe bestowing his blessing from the great beyond.
Mike Davies August 2008
Covering 1941-1989, the second volume of Pepper's American trilogy is a slightly more uneven affair than its predecessor, the social and political points more scattershot and at times either clunkily written with lines like 'if you give me a lobotomy I'll give you a piece of my mind' from the Prine-like Good Morning Mrs Stine or, as on Crucify (what would they do if Jesus came back today), revisiting familiar song territory.
Isn't a rock n rolling Real Good Time a bit too obvious as a number about emerging from the 40s gloom into the 50s promised land with Elvis, Roy and Johnny a palliative to the 'cold war pork'?
The percentage of memorable tunes to the merely serviceable isn't as high either. Numbers like 21st rebel yell Land That I Love, Coming Down (blind pursuit of technology), Another White Line (coke addict woman induces abortion) and One Percent, a comment on the distribution of wealth spoken over swirling orchestration and beats, may have things to say, but the music doesn't persuade you to spend the time listening.
On the upside, when he hits the spot, lyrically and musically then Pepper demands the attention. The bitter storysongs are the strongest. Fiddle lined opening track On And On tells how George's dad taught him to shoot as a kid then took him to work at a slaughterhouse, and he grew up to enlist and die in WWII. Break The Chain is the story of Denny, born into a desperate cycle of poverty and alcoholism, tied to a chain that bound him to the dead end street where he grew up.
Ben is the story of a childhood friend from across the tracks who blew his brains out when he came home from the army an amputee. And, in a wry comment on America's obsession with appearances, The Ballad of Betty Wulfrum follows the 'homeliest girl in school' as she undergoes a makeover.
Best track here though is probably the most honky tonk country, a steel streaked singalong chorus Collection Of Angels about a widow and the 'smiles of plasticine' and embroidered homilies that keep her company now Clarence has gone. A few more like that on Vol 3 wouldn't go amiss.
www.americanfallout.com/jefferson_pepper
Mike Davies August 2008
The name might lead you to assume this was yet another Scandinavian songbird, but Lindfors actually hails from Dublin, releasing this debut album in Ireland on her own Pentacle label back in 2007. Now, reissued at home and launched further afield it's very much 60s acoustic LoCal mellow tinged with hints of Valley blues and the obligatory references to Joni, Nicks and co, while moody banjo flecked folk-blues opener Night Time paints her as a Roberta Plant.
Earthy, warm and sensual to suit its songs about romantic encounters and aftershocks, Voodoo has a spidery elfin intoxication that conjures faint memories of Nilsson's Coconut, I Don't Want You Here is a barely there campfire chill out that jack Johnson might find a touch laid back while, by contrast, Timewarp pretty much rocks out by comparison, Lindfors' voice taking on deeper tones, the jazz slung guitar sloping along the rhythm with sexual sweat groove.
A highly impressive debut that belies its fledgling nature, Lovestage is a masterfully mature violin coloured confessional piano ballad that suggests she may well have listened to the odd Randy Newman, Gillian Welch, McCartney, Carole King, Baez and perhaps even Julia Fordham album at some time.
Playful and skittish on Light Up and the irresistible summery folk-pop 2x1, vulnerable on the darkly pastoral Fearful Things and Play It Away, this is atmospheric, quietly beguiling music from a voice we'll be hearing much more of.
www.jennylindfors.com
www.myspace.com/jennylindfors
Mike Davies August 2008
He's been in the business a while now, his career marked by a series of outstanding albums, a few middling ones but never anything that dipped below a quality high water mark. His latest (and first since leaving Sony) doesn't let the side down, though it's a bit of an uneven affair. Recorded in quick live sessions with Joe Henry producing and a band that includes Doyle Bramhall II, Greg Leisz, and Patrick Warren, the songs take a familiar route in exploring relationships and women, several told from a female point of view.
I'm no huge fan of the rockier side of Crowell, something that opens the album with Sex & Gasoline, a sexual politics and social issues song recently covered in, to these ears, better swampier mood by Kimmie Rhodes. He's tough-edged too on The Rise And Fall Of Intelligent Design, another bluesy 'manifesto' number in which he addresses what it means to be a man by taking the woman's point of view. Those who like the funkier Crowell won't be disappointed by either these or the chunky Dylanesque I Want You # 35 and the loose limbed Southern voodoo lope of Funky And The Farm Boy, but it's the more tender musical moments that hold my attention.
Heading the field is Moving Work Of Art, a lovely reflective love song to an old flame that some think is about first wife Rosanne Cash, but is likely not autobiographical. Snapping at its heels there's the gentle slow rolling steel-flavoured country ache of I've Done Everything I Can (with Henry duetting), the poignant Alzheimer's themed Forty Winters and Closer To Heaven which, if you can forgive the opening line 'I don't like hummus', slowly unfolds from a list of grumpy complains to a starry night spangled catalogue of the things that matter in his life; friends, wife and children. Its numbers like these that make you want to fill up the tank.
Mike Davies August 2008
In a business of sycophants where few people are prepared to give you an honest opinion, talent self-delusion tends to be the rule when it comes to actors and actresses turning their hand to music. There have, of course, been honourable exceptions. And to that list you can now add Zooey Deschanel. While she was acclaimed for her work in All The Real Girls, she’s not, perhaps, among the highest profile Hollywood names, her films including minor roles in the likes of Almost Famous, Die Hard 4, The Assassination of Jesse James, and, oh dear, The Happening. She’s probably best known for her perky turn as Juvie, in Elf, where she got to duet on the soundtrack with Leon Redbone on Baby It’s Cold Outside. She also contributed three numbers, including a fine version of Ooh Child, to the Bridge To Terabithia soundtrack.
It was for the as yet (at time of writing) to be released The Go-Getter, that director Martin Hynes paired her with singer-songwriter M Ward to record a cover of Richard and Linda Thompson’s When I Get To The Border. Apparently she mentioned she wrote a few things herself, played him some samples and he suggested they make a record together. This is it.
She’s clearly in thrall to the girl groups and solo stars of the 60s, so that I Was Made For You (which surely pinches from You Got What It Takes) sounds like Lesley Gore fronting the Ronettes, the keening pedal steel country Change Is Hard has a touch of the Clines, the summery This Is Not A Test is somewhere between early Cher and Sandy Posey and the Tin Pan Alley feel of the excellent I Thought I Saw Your Face Today will, along with several others, bring to mind Carole King and her Brill Building cohorts.
With a warm blowing in the breeze silky voice that sounds like freshly laundered linen smells, she’s a decent writer too, her songs tending to the torchiness of falling in and out of love, all wrapped in easy on the ear infectious melodies. With Ward providing occasional vocals along with guitar and keyboards, self-penned stand-outs would also include a Carpenters-ish Sentimental Heart, moody piano and strings lounge ballad Take It Back, country rolling Got Me and, co-written with fellow actor-musician Jason Schwartzman, the Spector pop meets Pet Sounds Sweet Darlin’.
She and Ward give good cover too with a simple voice/guitar gospel sway through Smokey’s You Really Got A Hold On Me and a duetted remodelling of Lennon & McCartney's I Should Have Known Better in a Hawaiian lounge style where, revealing the fun involved in the project, you can hear her giggling in the background. Rounding off with an unaccompanied woozy reading of Swing Low Sweet Chariot, you have to hope the album lives up to its title and there’s more to follow. I’d give anything to hear her covering I Don’t Want To Play in Your Yard.
Mike Davies August 2008
Imagine Bruce Springsteen recast in the voice of Bob Mould in his Husker Du days and you'll have a good idea what lies in store from this Brooklyn five piece's fourth album. They roar out of the gate with Constructive Summer, a piano driven song about Iggy Pop, Saint Joe Strummer and trying harder that could have come straight from the Asbury bars of The Wild, the Innocent, and the E Street Shuffle, and the pace rarely dips. The horn laced Sequestered In Memphis, a belting tale of being stitched up by some femme fatale in a bar, is another E Street rocker while on a harpsichord laden One For The Cutters Craig Finn again tells a literate Boss-like story about a girl gone to the bad and self-harm. It’s a theme of desperation that runs through several of the numbers here, along with images of knives, wavering faith and looking to escape dead end futures and find lost innocence.
It’s impossible not to reference Springsteen on things like Yeah Sapphire and Magazines, but you’ll hear other flavours too; J Mascis’ backwoods banjo swampiness of a broodingly clasutrophobic folked Both Crosses, the Peter Frampton 70s rock voice box touches to Joke About Jamaica, some moody swaying alcohol lubricated Buffalo Tom country-gospel to Lord I’m Discouraged.
Another influence rears its head on Slapped Actress, named for director John Cassavetes film and name-checking Ben Gazarra and Gena Rowlands that talks of the thrills but also the dangers of being the screen on which your audience paints its own dreams. Not everything works, Navy Sheets, which features harmonies by Patterson Hood from drive By Truckers, is a rowdy formless rocking mess, but then you get the title track, a punch the air anthem about music carrying the torch. The Hold Steady’s flame burns bright.
The UK special edition release comes with three bonus tracks, the punky surge Ask Her For Adderall (which references the Ramones), a bluesy slow swayed Cheyenne Sunrise and the equally organ driven Two Handed Handshake.
Mike Davies August 2008
Certainly not when the jaunty Texan country Room Service finds him down on his knees praying for love or a bottle, Cold has him drinking again and ‘howling round your gates until he’s gone’ and Chained tells how he’s still shackled to a love that scattered in the wind. He does, though, seem to have found salvation in God. Here I Come may contain lines like ‘die die stick a needle in my eye’ but also notes that the Lord pledges mercy, Fishin’ has him and the Lord casting their rods out in the sea and The Last Thing That I Do offers to turn his back on drink and women "if he shines his light on me’.
However, given these are fairly traditional country themes, you might not want to read too much autobiography into the songs and instead appreciate them for what they are with their dark wit, Cash, Earle and Clark influences and the blend of swamp blues, throaty Cash-style bible black country, bluegrass shanty, and shuffling rockabilly. Ultimately, these are songs about surviving the kicks and carrying on. Long may their road stretch before them.
Mike Davies August 2008
Note: Hey Negrita - You Can Kick - is released September 8th
I have to admit that Australian singer/songwriter Rory Ellis was a new name to me. On the evidence of Two Feathers, his fourth release, that's my loss. Ellis is one of that group of musicians that just are. He is neither blues/folk nor country, instead he is an amalgam of the best of all three, fused together by one special ingredient, Rory Ellis.
Although every note and line of Two Feathers comes from the heart, this is music that refuses to be hurried. Like a mighty river Two Feathers gets to the end in its own good time and carries all before it. It does help a little that Rory Ellis was born with the kind of voice that growls gravitas, when he sings he fills every corner. But Two Feathers is built on more than presentation, all of the tracks are written to mean something close to Rory Ellis's heart.
This is an old-time, minimum fuss, album, searingly angry and beautifully tender in equal measure. Work is an acoustic indictment while Little One sees Ellis open up and become heart-breakingly raw. But because the music is based on simple truths No Love In This War never disintegrates into a rant and from the other end of the spectrum Take Me Away stays the right side of mawkish sentiment. It's a delicate balancing act but Rory Ellis walks it surefootedly.
If you dissected Two Feathers you would find seams of blues, folk and country running through it, all to varying degrees. However, the essence of Two Feathers is that of a powerhouse performer, a keen-eyed observer and a conscience seeking a voice. In the face of such odds what chance does mere genre have? This is a Rory Ellis album anything else is window dressing of his choosing.
Michael Mee August 2008
The status of this release is readily apparent right from the first chords of its opening track, Darrell's cover of the undersung Gordon Lightfoot “prayer” All The Lovely Ladies: Darrell's long-term admiration for Gordon's artistry is present in every lovingly phrased note of his interpretation. Modern Hymns is, unusually for this noted songwriter, an album of covers – but what superbly judged covers. As confirmed in his own companionable and anecdotal booklet notes, Darrell similarly conveys his desire to make other folks' great songs truly his own, in the easy company of a stalwart roster of musos that includes Dirk Powell, Danny Thompson, Andrea Zonn, Stuart Duncan, Casey Driessen, Ronnie McCoury and Danny Flowers, with extra vocal support from (among others) Del McCoury, Kathy Chiavola and the Fisk Jubilee Singers. In terms of material, Darrell draws on the work of writers whom he clearly considers personal heroes, in a special category which he rather appealingly terms “lock-myself-in-my-teenage-bedroom-and-absorb affairs”. There's Bob Dylan, Hoyt Axton, John Hartford, Kris Kristofferson and Mickey Newbury, for a start; and yet there are also some pretty unexpected choices here, while even the more familiar of the songs are invariably dealt with in intriguing ways. Paul Simon's American Tune gets a neat bluegrassy treatment, with Tim O'Brien tagging along, while Mary Gauthier adds exemplary gravitas to Darrell's magnificent cover of Leonard Cohen's Joan Of Arc (now there's a modern hymn for you!), itself further enhanced by Alison Krauss's contrastingly angelic tones (on the chorus-vocal part) and an atmospheric string section backing. On the final track, Darrell repays the compliment of Guy Clark covering one of his own songs, by turning in an affectionate rendition of Guy's That Old Time Feeling (he even gets to play Guy's old #6 flamenco guitar on the track too!). The only cut where I'm not quite sure Darrell convinces is his pacey 2/4 trot through Joni Mitchell's Urge For Going. The one strictly non-vocal number, Pat Metheny's James, is bestowed with a gorgeous wordless part (Moira Smiley) that when it's not keening the main melody forms a counterpoint to the sensitive newgrass-style instrumental treatment. No other word for it - this disc is a gem.
David Kidman August 2008
In what seems to be becoming the norm of late, I find myself latching onto a brilliant band only on being sent their third album! In the case of Quebec-based French-Canadian four-piece Le Vent Du Nord, they've won awards galore for their previous two records, and it's easy to see why. Theirs is a thrilling, driving sound, utterly enjoyable and with energy aplenty (even in the quieter pieces) and a level of instrumental and vocal accomplishment that most bands would die for. Fiddle, accordion, hurdy gurdy, guitar, piano and some really good singing voices too - what more could you want? Well, aside perhaps for a little more prominence for the hurdy gurdy, nothing much! The band's musical sources are drawn from French-Canadian (Quebecois and Acadian) traditions, which they interpret with flair and vigour to provide a delightful, wholly endearing and moreish musical experience. Not only do Le Vent Du Nord do a great line in stirring and catchy refrain-rich call-and-response patter-folk songs (Tour à Bois, Rosette, La Fille Et Les Dragons) and narratives (Le Berger), often with reels appended, all with suitably energetic step-it-up backing often including Cape Breton-style piano vamping. However, they also manage to turn in some very fine vocal harmony work (as on the decidedly strange almost-chant Le Vieux Cheval) and the gentler moments (such as the melancholic waltz Petit Rêve III) are well turned too. All is executed with great finesse and character. Actually, more than anything else I was reminded of the original La Bottine Souriante (ie. before they turned into a horny disco-driven outfit), certainly in the respect that audibly foot-stamping rhythms are a central feature of the Vent Du Nord sound too, at least on the majority of the tracks on Dans Les Airs. Betcha can't keep your own feet still either listening to this record!
David Kidman August 2008
Touring UK briefly in mid- to late-October.
This disc contains some intensely beautiful and greatly consoling music. Basically, Béal Tuinne is a set of songs based on poems in Irish by Kevin Kennedy, the music being composed by Shaun Davey and performed by a dedicated group of West Kerry traditional musicians and singers. The title, which literally means “mouth of the wave”, refers to the bow wave of a boat: this in turn is likely to signify the perspective of the poet, which often denotes that of an outsider (in a boat perhaps) who is looking in or across to the small gaeltacht village of Baile An Mhuraigh (Parish Of Moor), in the Ballydavid area west of Dingle, where Kevin Kennedy himself spent most of his life. Many of the poems are powerfully reflective: in one of the most memorable (Briotánach Óg ó L'Orient), the solitary poet thinks on a young Breton sailor who drowned, and in another (Díbeartach) he poignantly laments the fate of the exile, while the collection's final piece is a setting of Kevin's last poem which through the reminiscences of two old fishermen captured his own memories of friends and fishing in Ballydavid. The majority of the poems celebrate the fact that music and community are bound together inextricably in the life of this village, and I don't think I'm being fanciful when I say one gets the impression that the lilting of everyday speech and sung refrains are evidently part of the lingua franca of the area, as illustrated in the carefree jig-rhythms of Cuairteóir (that same exhilarating dance portrays the tumbling Rover Lee on Cois Laoi) and the affectionate waltz-time celebration of friendship that is Lá Élgin Fadó Fadó; on Fearaibh Na bhFeoibh (Men Of The Foze), we even find the tale of a heroic fishing voyage set to a reel (and no pun intended!)... As you'll gather, the musical idiom is loosely traditional, though the acoustic instrumentation tends, somewhat unusually, to be combined with the sound of the pedal harmonium, lending the whole a slight - but not unappealing - demeanour of cultured grandeur. On a couple of the later songs, however, a string synthesiser is used instead, which can render the texture unnecessarily bland and smooth, undermining the tastefully earthy traditional feel of the rest of the pieces: not a happy move, I feel. That reservation aside, there are some marvellous sounds and lovely melodies here, with performances of real character from singers Rita Connolly, Lawrence Courtney, Dáithí Ó Sé and Éilís Kennedy (Kevin's daughter), and musicians including button accordionist Séamus Begley, his son Eoin (concertina) and Jim Murray (guitar) - although all but one of the aforementioned singers double up on instrumental duties (banjo, whistles, flute, guitar). There are isolated instances where the massed (choral) vocal support to the principal singer and the instrumental lines gets mildly overwhelming, but on the plus side this device also becomes a special feature of the sound and unifies the whole set of songs. Béal Tuinne was debuted in a special concert at St. James's Church, Dingle in October 2006, which forms the basis for this recording - and certainly the magical atmosphere of this occasion is conveyed par excellence in the warm acoustics and spacious (but not overfacing) ambience.
www.bealtuinne.com
www.copperplatedistribution.com
David Kidman August 2008
Here's another great recording that but for the kind auspices of Copperplate Distribution would have fallen through the cracks and remained largely unheard in the UK. It was made over 2 years ago, but has all the timeless appeal of the best of Irish traditional music. Co. Leitrim-born Dave is a fine flute player who gathered together an assortment of his musician friends to partake of a session in that metaphorical guest-house-cum-caravan somewhere in the Irish countryside. The 15 tracks, mostly jigs and reels, may be carefully planned as far as arrangements are concerned, but they're played with all the spirit of the convivial session and the varieties of texture Dave and his accomplices conjure up is quite miraculous. Dervish's Brian McDonagh, who's recorded the album, has given the sound a unified bloom that's full and attractive, yet lets the individual contributions breathe within the total sound-picture. I don't think I've ever enjoyed a flute-centred record quite as much, in fact, for the spirit of the music-making is so infectious; even though the whole affair's obviously a studio production rather than a live recording, there's a great feel of different musicians dropping in for each set and being accommodated and allowed free rein. This accentuates, but in a thoroughly nice way, the degree of contrast between individual tracks, and makes for some imaginative touches - as on the Johnny Allen's set (track 5), an isolated instance of Dave forsaking the flute for the button accordion and bringing in Seamie O'Dowd on dobro alongside Padraig McGovern's uilleann pipes and some excellent rhythmic underpinning from Neil Lyons and Keith Kelly. This set forms a real contrast with that preceding, a more strict-tempo approach to a pair of jigs (Maid On The Green and Humours Of Drinagh) where Brian Rooney's spirited fiddle steps it out with Dave to Kevin Brehoney's lively piano vamping. That sort of points up the glory of this album - that it's emphatically not just another series of “more jigs and reels” in “OK, so what?” performances, but a pleasing and often intriguing sequence of inventively varied renditions. And when you glance down the list of musicians (apart from those mentioned, there's Oliver Loughlin, Damien O'Brien, Michael McCague and Padraig O'Neill to name but four), you just know you're in for some scintillating musicianship. After all this positive commentary, however, I feel obliged to voice my one reservation regarding the disc: the inclusion of a song, a composition of Dave's own (Our Beautiful Tradition), the admirable sentiment of which rather fails to light my candle on account of the smooth yet overwrought manner in which it's sung by Dave's cousin Conor. No such problem besets Dave's self-penned polka and reel on the final track - the only other exception to the exclusively traditional source material used throughout this classy record.
www.sheridansguesthouse.ie
www.copperplatedistribution.com
David Kidman August 2008
Hilary's debut album, Burning Sun, was originally issued in 1993; it was the first occasion where she stepped out from behind production and promotion duties on her partner Simon Mayor's mandolin records and took the limelight in her own right, and it brought her much deserved acclaim. The album gets a 15th anniversary remix, remaster and reissue here, and sounds just great: full and detailed, with admirable presence. Of course, Hilary's superbly pure voice is supported by the considerable instrumental skills of the aforementioned Simon (on assorted mandos, guitar, fiddle and whistle), while old friends Alan Whetton (soprano sax), Brendan Power (harmonica) and vocalists Andy Baum and Zoltán Kátai make guest appearances (the latter's rich bass tones especially noteworthy). (I'm not sure that the box credits are complete, otherwise all seems present and correct.) The selection of material is an appealing and well-balanced one, almost a template for her albums to follow. It combines traditional folk material (the beautiful Bay Of Biscay, together with Seeds Of Love, Two Sisters and a sensitive version of Polly Vaughan) with Hilary's own intelligent arrangements of anything from madrigal to Provençal carol (the beguiling La Marche Des Rois), alongside her own compositions Sail Away and Busy Old Sun (the latter inspired by the opening line of a poem by John Donne). Hilary also presents a faultlessly crafted rendition of Fauré's Les Berceaux and a nicely-turned Handel lament (complete with mandolin choir!). And I really liked her lively Balkan-bluegrass take on Lonesome Day. Altogether tasteful and lovingly conceived, this is a joy of a record that should easily find appreciation with a new generation of listeners.
David Kidman August 2008
It's been a while since Judy's ventured into the recording studio, but this, her latest collection, is well worth the wait. Here she delivers a set of peerless vocal performances with brilliantly economical and perfectly complementary accompaniment by Steve Marsh, a well-respected classical guitarist and composer of considerable stature and no mean accomplishment. The range of material Judy tackles here is astonishing by any singer's standards; it encompasses the cream of contemporary (and contemporary folk) songwriters as well as some traditional material, and throughout Judy's commitment to the songs is as clear as is her joy in performing them. This is not to play down Steve's splendid guitar playing: with its classical purity of line and execution, a triumph of technique it may be, but it also makes its mark by virtue of the sheer musicality of its deft brushstrokes and its eminently sympathetic restraint. The guitar is of course a vital element within the tellingly spartan aural picture, but it never draws attention to itself in the way that virtuoso guitar playing often does. There is a limited degree of additional instrumental enhancement on five of the songs: Ruth Angell provides a mini-string section on three including the opener (Graham Pratt's Kerry Is No More), Nip Heeley plays percussion on three and Ashley Hutchings bass on one. It also comes as no surprise to find master musician Gordon Giltrap, writer of the significantly “less is more” liner note, bringing some of his distinctive and superlative filigree playing (baritone guitar) to one track, Wolfe, which sets words by Ashley Hutchings to Stan Rogers melodies (well that's how it sounds - I tried to find out more about this and the other songs on the disc, but the website reference given doesn't deliver the promised further information). So this is a disc whose all-round excellence makes it difficult to critically appraise beyond the inevitable superlatives: all I can do is point to some highlights along the way on its 69-minute journey. Mike Silver's sublime Angel In Deep Shadow receives one of the standout interpretations of the whole disc, and Judy also makes a fine fist of Harry Chapin's early song Flowers Are Red, Carolyn Hester's lovely setting of Whitman's Captain My Captain, and Judy Collins' epic Albatross. No complaints either about her takes on compositions by Jennifer Warnes, Billy Joel and Dougie MacLean, or her energetic (rather than incantatory) rendition of Charlie Murphy's Burning Times. There's only one disconcerting moment, where you hear the tune-shift during this Judy's version of Amazing Grace for the first time! The CD also contains two non-duo items: Evening Star is a stunning seven-minute tone-picture for solo guitar, and The Leaves Turn To Brown is sung acappella (and very beautifully too) by Judy. The latter selection, along with a further three tracks tacked on at the end of the disc, are helpfully annotated as being “archive recordings 1984-1989”, and yes, the recording isn't quite as perfect as the rest of the disc but the artistic quality of these tracks is second to none. This disc, being a salutary reminder both of just how (consistently) abundantly fine a singer Judy is and how tremendously skilled a musician Steve is, can thus very probably be considered beyond criticism - which in itself is not an easy judgement for a reviewer to arrive at!
David Kidman August 2008
You may remember Chris from the 70s and 80s, as one of the most captivating of the singer-guitarists working within the tradition; at that time, his name was often spoken in the same breath as Messrs. Carthy and Jones. After a number of years away from the folk scene, Chris made a comeback in 1999 with the fine album Traces, which was taken up by Tradition Bearers and reissued in 2003, swiftly followed by a brand new release Jewels; both of these CDs were gems indeed, showing Chris to be on excellent form, an impression reinforced by a select number of live gigs around that time.
Now, after a gap of almost four years, comes this brilliant new disc, winging its way across from Iceland (where Chris now lives). It's a record that's deserving of the highest praise from end to end, and its aura of absolutely top-notch quality extends right through the musicianship, the singing and playing (not just that Chris himself but of his collaborators), to the physical presentation – a truly deluxe package comprising a sturdy digipack with excellent booklet containing full performance credits, complete texts, and thoughtful and comprehensive background notes. The presentation epitomises Chris's attitude to, and respect for, his chosen material, the notes emphasising his meticulous and carefully considered approach. He's one of those performers whose deep artistry doesn't shout or overtly demand your attention, but kindof steals up on you through attentive listening. His singing is both immediate and intimate, and conveys more passion and true understanding through its precision of diction and phrasing than many a more superficially emotive rendition, while the hallmark of his guitar work is its accomplished creation and sustaining of the ideal backdrop for the narratives, unobtrusive yet having a sense of presence that is wholly complementary.
In order to get the most out of Chris's performances, you need to treat them with the same degree of respect he himself accords to the material, and give them time to work their special magic. But having said that, Outsiders turns out to be one of those CDs where the first track is so exceptional that you think it just can't get any better: this is a brand new interpretation of Lord Bateman (oh yes!), one which Chris has intelligently pieced together from a number of sources yet which remains totally credible and harnesses considerable cumulative power (not only from the developing narrative, but also from the inexorably building instrumental arrangement which brings in three string players and a hammer dulcimer by the close). That stunning opening gambit is followed by an especially well-pointed solo rendition of Leon Rosselson's Song Of The Olive Tree, after which Chris returns to the tradition for a quite richly textured, and yet movingly understated, version of The False Bride. Contrast then comes with a spirited Suffolk-meets-Iceland set combining the fun Cod Banging (learnt from Bob Hart) with a guitar transposition of an Oscar Woods melodeon jig, here accompanied in convivial session spirit by fiddle, mandolin and kantele (the latter courtesy of Chris's partner Bára Grímsdóttir). And even Chris's ensuing take on Woody Guthrie's Deportee reveals unexpected nuances and shades of passion.
But then comes the disc's pièce-de-resistance: a magisterial unaccompanied 10½-minute rendition of one of the big Child ballads, Sir Aldingar. Now this is quite a coincidence, for after many years of complete neglect, this determinedly obscure ballad gets two “première” recordings almost simultaneously: one by Brian Peters (reviewed last issue) and this one by Chris. Although recognisably from the same source, their treatments are completely different - and each one proves independently satisfying. Chris achieves a strong sense of purpose and flow through his strong rhythmic pacing, which he adapts and transforms at crucial points in the narrative, making for an extraordinarily breathtaking, compelling performance.
Coming down from those lofty heights, and good though the remainder of the CD is, it almost seems sacrilege to listen to it in the same breath – but suffice to say that it still provides highlights, notably in a memorably ambiguous take on The Cruel Mother (built from the version by Lizzie Higgins) and, to close, Trespassers Will Be Celebrated, an uplifting song by Sheffield-based Sally Goldsmith commissioned for the 70th anniversary of the Kinder Mass Trespass.
With Outsiders, Chris (along with a neat complement of fellow-musicians including Val Regan, Trevor Lines, Laura Fiddaman and Ruth Angell who are employed sparingly but effectively) has produced an eminently satisfying CD, one which benefits from a considerable number of replays: one to cherish, without a doubt.
www.myspace.com/chrisfosterfolk
David Kidman August 2008
The quite-newly-launched Cherry Red subsidiary label Esoteric is currently doing a splendid job of reissuing all the albums of celebrated songwriter (Josephine) Claire Hamill, who was also quite recently hailed by Record Collector mag as “the finest vocalist you've never heard” (yes, I do like the presumptive eloquence of that description!). As a taster, though, comes The Minor Fall, The Major Lift, a handsome two-disc retrospective compilation covering virtually the whole of Claire's career to date (1971 to 2005) and spanning the records she made for Island, Konk, Beggar's Banquet, Coda and finally her own label. If I'm totally honest, I don't entirely connect with some of the prog and then New Age modes with which Claire became engaged from the late 70s through to the late 80s, a blandness too far on occasion for me perhaps, but the sample tracks from the albums made during that period encapsulate what she was doing pretty well. In all, it's actually a very sensibly programmed compilation, and certainly whets the appetite for the forthcoming projected complete reissues of all the individual albums over the next year or so and prompts a re-evaluation on my part. And even Claire's staunchest fans will probably not own all of those albums! So to those issued thus far... One House Left Standing was the product of the ingenuous Claire's signing with Island at age 16, and ambitiously showcased her nascent songwriting and her enviably pure and uncannily cultured singing voice on an unexpectedly wide-ranging set of songs, mainly penned by Claire herself (some with her then-boyfriend Mike Coles). The record started out stylishly, with the kittenish Dixieland swing of Baseball Blues (whoa, what an opener!) and moved through the assured, stately chamber-folk of The Man Who Cannot See Tomorrow's Sunshine, The River Song and the chanson-like Where Are Your Smiles At?, also taking in the classic Jon Mitchell song Urge For Going, on which Terry Reid was drafted in to play guitar (other guests commandeered by Chris Blackwell for the sessions included John Martyn, David Lindley, Paul Buckmaster, Rabbit Bundrick and Free's drummer Simon Kirke). It's a persuasive set that wears very well indeed, and its ten tracks are topped up with two bonus cuts, the lengthy and intense single B-side Alice In The Streets Of Darlington and a cutglass cover of Lindisfarne's Meet Me On The Corner featuring Gerry Rafferty and Stealer's Wheel as backing musicians.
1973's followup, October, was an even more mature record, astonishingly so for someone of Claire's relatively tender years; I guess you could say that while in one respect consolidating Claire's debut it was a little more orthodox in basic sound and approach, possibly due to the deployment of a more consistent (although to my ears a little too consistent) backing crew. A more pronounced Joni Mitchell influence also seemed to be present, especially in the melodic contours of songs like To The Stars. Produced by Paul Samwell Smith, October incorporated backing by Cat Stevens' band of the time (Jean Roussel, Pat Donaldson and Gerry Conway) and the American trio Smith, Perkins and Smith (whom Island had just signed). There are some sensitive string arrangements too (courtesy of Nick Harrison), and the final track Peaceful was even recorded alfresco in the cold in the middle of the night! Highlights of this generally strong set of songs have to be the pounding Speedbreaker, the profoundly touching I Don't Get Any Older, the tenderly beautiful Warrior Of The Water and the enigmatic The Artist. The odd-track-out is a quite strident cover of Jimmy Reed's Baby What's Wrong (With You) which, well done though it is, breaks the flow of the album's original second side somewhat. Sadly, there are no bonus tracks with this reissue - but, as with One House..., the booklet contains a brand new reminiscence by Claire herself which throws further light on the songs and the circumstances of the recording.
The third of the reissued albums, Voices, propels us forward 12 years to 1985, by which time much water had flown under Claire's musical bridge. At that time, Claire was settled and married, and had just supported Rick Wakeman on a national tour. At the instigation of her husband Nick, Claire dipped her tentative toes into the then-nascent New Age genre, recording a whole album based around the concept of a vocal interpretation of the changing seasons. Using then-pioneering layering techniques to create a thick, ethereal soundscape from her own extraordinary vocal performances, Voices proved a startlingly original record which genuinely broadened musical horizons, astounding listeners and defying preconceptions of what might “sell”. Heard now, it seems a very-80s artefact, rather akin to Kate Bush without the outlandish eccentricities I thought, and definitely a precursor of what's now regarded as the Enya sound especially in its wash of swooning, shifting vocal colours - but it doesn't sound dated in the way that much 80s music does, and it contains some inspiring and uplifting composition. From the vantage point of two decades on, it's easy to underestimate how inventive and original this music was back in the mid-80s, and this repackage allows us to reassess its magic in all its aural splendour.
The fourth album to be reissued in this series, Love In The Afternoon, dates from 1988, a time when Claire was on a creative roll after the massive success of the Voices album. It's a collection of songs without an overall concept, and although it doesn't suffer from disunity in that sense and there are some fine songs among its nine tracks it still doesn't quite satisfy as an entirety. Trees, Japanese Lullaby and to some extent Glastonbury and the title track are to some extent all style-defining within Claire's later output, but the album's standout is probably Beauty Of England (which is drawn from an aborted concept album Domesday, about the Battle Of Hastings). Love In The Afternoon shares with many albums of its time a distinctly 80s synth-dominated backing, which now makes it sound quite dated (more so than Voices), and this dilutes the impact of Claire's writing somewhat for me. It would be interesting to hear some of these songs with a less elaborate textural backdrop.
David Kidman August 2008
Celia's a Tyneside-based singer/songwriter who fronts country-rock outfit The Katy Freeway (previously known as Virginia Slims). Even tho' she's been writing songs for some 20 years, this is her first solo outing, ostensibly a culmination of her diverse activities over the past decade. Certainly it contains some fine work, on which she's backed by a reliable crew that includes guitarist Jim Hornsby, keyboardist Tony Davis, bassist Rob Tickell and drummer Doug Morgan. Perhaps inevitably in view of Celia's beginnings in folk music, it's the two specifically folky tracks, placed together rather too near the end of the CD, that initially made me sit up and listen: the traditional My Lagan Love and She Moved Through The Fair both receive superb performances. Earlier on, it's Celia's own compositions all the way, reflecting a pensive puzzlement and a willingness to question her experiences of life and love. Musically, the album's first five songs purvey a pleasing, gentle brand of new-country-flavoured acoustic rock, with some tasty guitar and dobro picking from Mr Hornsby throughout. And the more feisty gospel-rock of Singing To The Lord is pretty attractive too. But the sentimental waltz-time Poor Wandering Ones and the lounge-muzak Charlie just feel out of place alongside. Then, the final pair of tracks prove are of an altogether raunchier and bluesier honky-tonk cast - they're live recordings made with The Katy Freeway. So in all, you could say, No Deals, No Promises offers just that – an uncompromising selection of tracks that displays a keen desire to show off a diversity of musical styles but despite some very satisfying moments ends up lacking an overall focus.
David Kidman August 2008
Playing pretty much everything himself, the third album from the Birmingham multi-instrumentalist singer-songwriter sees him largely stepping away from the backwoods Americana of its predecessors in favour of a dreamier 60s West Coast feel. Born out of the pain, confusion and self-questioning of divorce, the songs inevitably deal with the bitter barbs of love, feelings of betrayal, regret, self-pity and anger intercut with bittersweet memories and the hopes that things could get fixed.
Given the subject matter, it’s a surprise to find how many of the dozen tracks are couched in breezy, sun-tipped melodies, almost as if (especially on the pure crystal water mood of the dobro instrumental Jelly Bones) the music were cleansing the past as the songs unfold.
The album opens with Another Day With You’s Like Torture, a lushly arranged, twangy guitar song less about romantic antagonism and more to do with the pain of trying to make things work. Elsewhere Heads Down Eyes Up, the folksy Stuck In The Mud, a gently pulsing What’s On Your Mind?, the finger-picking A Little Time and the spare spooked blues 9 Lives all variously deal with making it through and picking yourself up.
Being burned once always makes it harder to keep the dark shadows gathering in the corner of the sun, a feeling nicely captured in the gently ticking Count To 10 where, imagining a new as yet unmet love he’s already thinking of having to work things through while a Will Oldham sounding Once sets the question about falling in love again against the image of a bedroom full of broken glass.
"I know that feeling sad brings out the best in songs, but I wouldn’t recommend this to anyone", he sings on the closing Paper Bag. But as the simple, hymnal like keyboard notes are joined by wistful banjo and guitar to become a gathering peaceful swell before, in a distant voice he says that "butterflies and angels help me count to ten when I think I want you back again", you know he’s going to be all right.
www.myspace.com/jamessummerfield
Mike Davies August 2008
Named for a South Korean boxer and the current vehicle for former Red House Painters singer-songwriter Mark Kozelek's tales of memory and melancholy, it’s taken five years (punctuated by Modest Mouse and AC/DC covers albums) to follow up Ghosts Of The Great Highway with original material. But, with a running time that pushes the clock past 70 minutes and three numbers around the 10 minute mark, he’s certainly made the wait worth the while.
The same applies to the songs and musical mood which, in dealing with trademark themes of loss, loneliness and death, calls to mind the Harvest/Zuma days of Neil Young veined with traces of Nick Drake and, on Harper Road and the disturbingly dark Heron Blue, traditional English folk transplanted to the stark Appalachian mountains. Some might wish to toss the Tim Buckley tag around and, while it’s not without merit, Tonight In Bilbao is probably more a kindred soul to David Ackles.
He turns up the guitars to throaty for The Light and the reverb growling Tonight The Sky, but otherwise his dominant mode is pastoral strum, Lucky Man and Moorestown (one of two numbers previewed on 2006’s Little Drummer Boy live album) both dressed in crystal tinkling guitar arpeggios, the latter gilded with dreamy strings and piano that echo the sadness in his warm wearied voice.
Mortality and ghosts (of the departed, if not necessarily dead) haunt the album; on the lengthy guitar and violin opener Lost Verses with its reflections on youth, the sense of years passing on Like The River, in the angel who whispers word of comfort as she follows him down the Unlit Hallway (one of two numbers featuring Will Oldham) and, most poignantly, on the closing plucked flamenco guitar Blue Orchids with its reference to his sister’s death.
April, may indeed, as TS Eliot had it, be the cruellest month, but it’s also the time of rebirth as what was past and buried returns with the promise of new life. And it’s a promise this album ultimately keeps.
www.sunkilmoon.com
www.myspace.com/sunkilmoon
Mike Davies August 2008
Born in Rochdale of Anglo-Chinese parentage, Tang took himself off to Hong Kong (his dad used to play in the HK Philharmonic) where his harmonica playing apparently made him the number one blues harp player in Asia, a session musician in demand by the likes of Jackie Chan, Andy Lau and, er, Simon Le Bon. He also became the first blues harp player to get a record deal in Hong Kong, going on to release five albums.
Now he’s back home and this is his UK debut, a mix of Delta Blues, country, blues-rock and acoustic roots. He’s going to have a harder time establishing himself here, especially when he’s up against the likes of Seasick Steve who works similar territory. However the crunchy Zep-ish The Other Side having caught the attention of Bob Harris with the harp blowing stomper Time Of Day and Love Bites adopting a similar approach while Troubles Down is more malt and barley folk pop and Drifting suggesting a cross between Blunt and Rod Stewart, it shouldn’t be too much of an uphill struggle. And listen to Sun Down and you can see why those Hong Kong clubs were blown away by his harmonica.
Mike Davies August 2008
Having in his time variously appended his name to The Dots, The Coloured Girls and The Messengers, these days the Australian singer-songwriter has been following a solo career. As such he’s recorded bluegrass, folk, rock and even dance groove albums as well as writing the score for both Lantana and Jindabyne.
Having briefly formed The Stardust Five, this is his first album under his own name for four years, and comes laden with the sort of references and imagery on which he’s made his name. He says Blake’s Songs of Innocence and Experience informed the track sequencing, albeit with the former sandwiched between songs reflecting the latter. Religion and the Bible loom large, Adam and Eve getting the nod on the Dylanesque, crunching guitar title track while he quotes the Book of Revelations in the last verse of God Told Me, another moody rock number sung in the person of a religion driven terrorist. The stark solo piano closer, Please Leave Your Light On, which might have been lifted from Blood On The Tracks, even leans on the story of the prodigal son.
The opening, Feelings Of Grief, begins with the sound of a mey, a Turkish folk instrument that evokes precisely the mood of lament the song explores, albeit with Kelly moving more into atmospheric U2 territory. Then, ringing the musical changes, there’s the clanky bluegrass, boogie, blues and beats flavours of Sweetest Thing (where his nasal delivery again sounds like Dylan) while You’re 39, You’re Beautiful And Your Mine is a slow country waltz that could have strayed in from a Willie Nelson album, and (the last of the ‘innocence’ numbers) Foggy Fields Of France is twanging acoustic country swing that borrows its musical template from 50s Sun Records and its chorus from ee cummings’ I Carry Your Heart With Me.
It doesn’t all work; Right Outta My Head is a dirty blues rock groove with what sounds like either worksong or sea shanty backing vocals and Keep On Driving is throwaway train rhythm jogging rockabilly. But when Kelly hits the vein, as he does on the storytelling The Ballad of Queenie And Rover, a brassy swaggering speak-sing song about two famed Aboriginal artists, then these apples are golden delicious.
www.paulkelly.com.au
www.myspace.com/paulkellymusic
Mike Davies August 2008
The West Midands based label’s second signing after Scott Matthews, while the album features contributions from guitarist Pete Gough and drummer Sam Martin, The Junipers are essentially Leicester duo Joe Wiltshire, who writes, plays the instruments and sings, and Marc Johnson, who takes lead vocals on eight of the 15 tracks (of which two are brief instrumentals).
This, their debut album, is packed with rather lovely soft psychedelic folk-pop like the summery lolloping Fly The Yellow Kite, the Sgt Pepper influences evident on Gordie Can't Swim and Mortimer and, for real psych-pop devotees, the spangly joys of Mark (Teenage Opera) Wirtz, Terry Melcher and Curt Boettcher to be heard buzzing around Song That Fades Away, Callooh Callay and the psychedelia carousel ride of Little May Rose.
Elsewhere, Already Home shows a jangly jogging country element, Sheena is pure CS&N West Coast shimmering pop while the title track is S&G folkie and Sunnydown Ave suggests a lost collaboration between Brian Wilson and McCartney. They’re definitely a gin and tonic.
www.thejunipers.com
www.myspace.com/thejunipers
Mike Davies August 2008
This volume has been many years in the making, and it’s great that Tom’s finally managed to get it published. Especially since it will undoubtedly throw the spotlight of attention onto those of Tom’s own creations that have been repeatedly - and unduly carelessly - misattributed (as traditional or whatever) over the years. In doing so, it provides a salutary reminder of just how many damned good songs Tom has written (how often you hear the cry “oh, is that one of his? I never knew that!” when one of them is correctly credited at a singaround!).
Tom’s without doubt one of the most charismatic and versatile performers on the folk scene, and those qualities also epitomise, and permeate through, his output as a songwriter. He’s one of the true good guys alright - and with a nice line in self-effacing deprecation too! But yes, in the book’s very title he allows himself the luxury of a boast, a deliberately proud value-judgement that simply says it all - the songs are indeed so very much worth the singin’. And, as Tom is keen and quick to point out after stating his air-punchingly admirable philosophy in his chummy (though necessarily opinionated!) preamble, they’re for the learning and passing along (that credo being so rousingly expressed in his brilliant anthem Radio Times).
Importantly, therefore, the songbook is of immense practical value as a full-blown voice-on learning resource, and not merely a means of preserving the songs in aspic (print), to be placed upon the shelf and consulted but fitfully thereafter. Hefty clues to this true purpose are provided by its robust and accessible spiral-bound format and the inclusion of a CD containing a sound-clip illustrating each of the songs in the book (a complete verse and, where appropriate, chorus), conveniently culled from Tom’s existing available recordings. The songs themselves are presented in straight alphabetical order of title, with tunes (as Tom points out) in simple and basic stave notation with indicative chord patterns for accompaniment, and the lyrics given in a friendly font and point-size “that should not tax ageing eyesight”, with verses clearly numbered and sequenced. Tom also provides a background note for each song: some take the form of anecdotes and some are more illuminating than others, but they’re always entertaining, in Tom’s own inimitable style and generally providing all the aspiring singer needs to know (aside perhaps from the date of composition, however approximate?). Some readers of a more grammatically pedantic bent are likely to take issue with Tom’s liberal and decidedly wayward use of the semicolon, but ample compensation is at hand in the conversational tone and content of his matey discourse.
Strictly speaking, half a dozen of the songs aren’t entirely Tom’s own – there are his settings of poets (Fox Smith, Stevenson and Swinburne), and The Sailor’s Prayer sets traditional words – but this is a fact not a criticism. There’s also a rather useful appendix, “Supplementary Songs”, wherein Tom lists the songs he’s recorded which he didn’t actually write, together with a brief background note and a mention of which disc each one appears on. (Quite intentionally, Tom subtitles the book “the Tom Lewis songbook” rather than “the songs of Tom Lewis”, to denote the concept that we each collate our own personal songbook that encompasses our own individual repertoire.) There’s also an informative little discussion of Royal Navy culture and nicknames, then a potted biography and discography.
Tom’s own 41 songs (and one original poem, also reprinted here for completeness) form an impressive (and satisfyingly varied) body of work, one that any songwriter would be more than keen to own (I’d be immensely proud just to have written even a couple of them!). Tom’s songwriting thus far spans all of thirty years- his first song, the ironically titled Last Shanty, was written in 1977 and his latest two (the topical (No) Princes In The Line and the valedictory Fair Winds), in 2006 (though I do hope that the very fact of this book’s publication doesn’t signify the end of Tom’s songwriting career). Finally, and importantly, Tom’s quick to acknowledge the immense contributions made by his wife Lyn and his fellow ex-submariner Ed Wilson in the assembling and editing of the songbook.
In his typically plain-speaking and modest way, Tom exhorts the reader to basically learn, then get out there and sing these songs, for they are given freely. Ever-generous, Tom has a particularly neat, memorable and totally apposite way of summing it all up for us: “Love the songs you sing and they will become your songs. Sing the songs you love and they’ll become our songs. Absolutely.
David Kidman August 2008
Oli Brown has taken in the influences of the great British blues players of the past and those of his contemporaries such as Aynsley Lister to take up the baton for the 21st century. He has already shared a stage with greats such as Koko Taylor, Walter Trout, John Mayall & Buddy Guy and is ready to take his place in the spotlight. Psycho is a contemporary blues played by a power trio. The rhythm section of Fred Hollis on bass and Simon Dring on drums ably backs Brown's guitar in its quest for the elusive note.
The eponymous title track is a mid-paced grinder with nothing out of the ordinary in the voice. Stone Cold (Roxanne) is a shuffling blues in the Kansas City style and there is no doubting his credentials as he lets it rip on the chorus. The first cover, Can't Get Next To You has him not really out of first gear yet and this needs a bit of pace injected. It's another contemporary blues rock with the introduction of Govert Van Der Kolm on organ. Shade Of Grey is slow again and has a spoken vocal intro. It does build a little and turns to the funky side.
All The Kings Horses has a heavy intro and highlights Brown as one of many playing this type of blues at the moment, and he's certainly not the worst by any manners of means. This has his best guitar work yet and the pounding drums from Billy McLelan breathe life into it as it builds to a fantastic crescendo. Black Betty (yes it is the Ram Jam song) has a drawled vocal and although essentially the same as the Ram Jam cover of Leadbelly's song, Oli does let himself go - short and sweet. Missing You is a slow, uncomplicated blues with incisive guitar bursts - this will be a great live track. New Groove is a beefed up Robert Cray style strolling blues in parts but we have had to wait until Played By The Devil before we get any genuine pace and this is a highlight as he shows how good he really is. Complicated is slowed down again but I'd have rather had him sprinting for the finish although this 21st century blues is a good finish to an intriguing album.
David Blue August 2008
Robust English folk rock fronted by the earthy voiced Hopper, it seems inevitable that, with contemporary topics enfolded in traditional sounding forms, the Fairport comparisons are flying thick and fast. Certainly, anyone into Messrs Nicol, Pegg and co, won’t be disappointed with what Hopper and his collaborators, guitarist Leigh Trowbridge, multi-instrumentalist Andee Price and fiddle/whistle player Ramona Egle, have on offer.
Opening track, Lammas Leaves, which talks of the UK’s devastating floods and the destructive force of nature, pretty much sets the tone of storysongs variously unfolded with literal narrative, symbolism and metaphor. The Ballad of the Suffolk Five (which recalls the early work of Harvey Andrews) visits the murders of the Ipswich working girls, poignantly giving the victims back the humanity erased by tabloid coverage, The Farmer (which features Egle on harp) concerns the decline of the farming industry as the next generation turn their back on their heritage, Pilgrimage attacks the religion of consumerism, while The Terrorist is a cleverly veiled attack on the erosion of freedom spoken in the rhetoric of those justifying the same. Elsewhere, Seven Sisters is a lovely celebration of the English hills, Little Red Riding Hood redresses the fairy tale’s fear of male sexuality, Olive Tree serves reminder of the roots that make us who we are while, just to bring things back to that whole English folk rock diaspora, John Matthews is inspired by Albion from Chris Wood’s The Lark Descending.
Hopper’s been around a while now, working the London scene, and is finally starting to get wider recognition. I’m not persuaded he’s the new Richard Thompson some reviews would have you believe, but he certainly earns the right to sit at the same table.
Mike Davies August 2008
It feels like Putumayo has scanned the four corners of the earth to make world music truly accessible. In doing so they have opened the imagination, eyes and more importantly the ears, of those lucky enough to have come across the ‘Presents’ series.
The rod they have made is that it was always going to be impossible to keep raising the bar and while Putumayo Presents Quebec does what sets out to do, it’s not one of the best in the collection.
Perhaps it’s the narrowing of the focus. With Quebec being a French Canadian province it’s natural for the music to be heavily influenced by that country. It makes it difficult for the uninitiated to latch on to and appreciate the subtle shades that undoubtedly lie within.
At the core of the album is a mix of latin rhythms and cool sophistication . It’s hard not to think in pastel shades while listening to the likes of Myreille Bedard singing Il Fait Dimanche.
Albums whose lyrics are entirely foreign language, rely heavily on the spirit they can create and to its credit, ‘Quebec’ manages to create a sense of freedom and life but stripped of any lyrical emotional reference points, listening eventually becomes hard work.
Notable highlights include La Bottine Souriante with La Brunette Est La which proves that great folk music is universal and travels beautifully.
It feels almost churlish to criticize a collection that is as enjoyable as Putumayo Presents Quebec and in truth it’s a million miles away from being a poor album. It’s just that it’s a little overshadowed by the inspiration provided by some of the earlier compilations.
Michael Mee August 2008
Folkus Pocus is a duo comprising Caroline and Dan Hollingshurst, two young instrumentalists who met while studying music at university. Caroline has a lifelong love of folk dance music, whereas Dan's background lies in improvised jazz and classical music, and the cross-fertilisation of these approaches brings some felicitous and fresh-sounding musical adventures. It's probably a drawback (and probably not) that with their necessarily restricted palette of available timbres (fiddle, flute or recorder with just a piano for accompaniment), opportunities for experimentation without resorting to multitracking are limited. Even so, Caroline and Dan are to be congratulated for not succumbing to the temptation of over-arranging their tunes, and they coax a commendable vitality out of what they have to hand and they obviously enormously enjoy playing. It amounts to a very competent, always sparkling collection of music for dancing, and covers an admirably wide range of tunes, from traditional pieces (Morpeth Rant, April Storm) to several Playford selections (including some less usual fare), a dance by Handel, some vigorous American contradance reels to a handful of more recently penned items (even including a dash of Bert Kaempfert!) and closing with Ashokan Farewell. I do like the vibrant way the duo respond to each other's playing, especially on those tunes which set a cracking pace from the outset and particularly on the Pipe On The Hob jig-set (track 8) where you sometimes feel Dan's hand is about to run off the keyboard! But there are also times when the total effect is a tad polite, and Caroline's use of vibrato tone on some tunes (eg White Wheat) can be a mite distracting. Although the duo's performances are abundantly committed, fiery and fresh-sounding, some less-than-perfect intonation lets the side down at times. But I realise that this can be tricky music to negotiate, and Caroline and Dan are clearly under no illusion that magic tricks (especially of the musical kind) will always need more practice if they are to wholly convince, so maybe that's all they need in order to penetrate to the inner sanctum of folk's magic circle.
David Kidman August 2008
This master melodeonist from Norfolk is a real character with a quirky and individual style and a determinedly uncompromising outlook on life. And a brilliant cartoonist, by the by (see the album's cover!). Stubbornly but entirely legitimately, Tony revels in the sound of his antique Hohner melodeons with their noisy key-clicking - which as far as I'm concerned gives his recordings a special appeal, and my ears at any rate soon grow accustomed to it! And yes, it's true, there is no instrumental multitracking whatsoever on this disc, for one of the features of Tony's playing is his ability to sound like two people are each playing a melody line at the same time. This is but one element of the wide appeal of his performances: another is his enthusiastic embracing of an eclectic range of material, all of which he carries off with acute flair. Tony shares with Brian Peters and John Kirkpatrick (to name but two) the distinction of being an able-fingered squeezer who can credibly sequence The Abbotts Bromley Horn Dance, waltzes both lovely and lively, some ragtime, a Jimmy Shand piece, a Howard Keel showtune and even a bizarrely soulful rendition of Strange Fruit (yes, the very song Billie Holliday made famous) - and do them all justice. Not to mention that inimitable Norfolk accent and ripe sense of humour on his own Down On The Hard (careful!), The Haddock Song (the finest - and that's of-fishial!) and the quite touching Binder Twyne, and, purely instrumentally - probably best of all (or should I say “hall”?!) - his own Beccles Stomp, a deliciously bluesy New Orleans-style number. Only one puzzle remains: Tony's defiant but slightly self-deprecating booklet notes term his Enigma Of The Southwold Tide “the most boring song ever written” - no way! This whole CD is a totally honest, proud and immensely enjoyable little gem full of goonishly-delightful moments, to whom no-one in their right mind should fitfully admonish “Shut up Beccles!”
David Kidman August 2008
This Sheffield-based fab-foursome has made giant strides since its (even then, pretty accomplished) WildGoose debut Changeling five years ago, and they continue to play to their strengths (and they have so many!) while demonstrating a strong ongoing sense of musical and artistic development without compromising their ideals or principles. In that sense it's not an easy album to review, for Crucible still have so much going for them that it's tempting to just become overwhelmed (in the nicest possible way) by their individual and collective musicianship. This time round they open proceedings with a persuasive parade of their talents, reflecting their prominent role in the local traditional dance scene: an acappella calling-on song for the Grenoside Sword Dancers, leading straight into a tune-set beginning with one of the dances they use (Roxburgh Castle). As ever, the band's rhythmic impetus is both unerring and brilliantly coordinated, never forgetting credibility of expression as an integral element. Every successive track has something special to marvel at, though - instrumentally, there's Gav's bold guitar riffing (check out the strident Old Mrs. Wilson set) and ever-imaginative fills and rhythmic tricks (ibid.), Helena's increasing use of the border bagpipes to stirringly complement Jess's intuitive and masterful fiddle and viola playing, Rich's ever-imaginative melodeon work which manages to combine rhythmic panache and expressive élan, and not least the majestic nature of the complete group sound when gainfully employed. As if that's not enough, there's Crucible's utterly enviable vocal prowess, not only individually but in those tremendous vocal harmonies and their thorough grasp of forms and techniques - their intricate treatment of the traveller song True Love is both challenging and inspirational. Then there's the band's immensely thoughtful approach to their chosen material, and Gav's ability to write original songs within the spirit of the tradition - and now Jess too! for her composition, Pilgrimage, is a stunner, a definite album highlight. Other standouts include a potently sombre setting of Dancing At Whitsun (complete with atmospheric pipes on the postlude), an epic Three Maidens (Helena excels here at holding our attention through its six-minute span), a sparky Collier Lad, and a rich-textured (yet almost drained in its impact) acappella reworking of Gav's unsettling Under The Leaves. The disc's finale (Walkley Anthem) possesses a warm brass-chorale arrangement courtesy of Jim Moray which ideally suits the Sheffield-carol-like ambience of the tune. Have I missed anything else? Well, you simply must get yourself a copy of this excellent CD to find out!
David Kidman August 2008
To view previous gig or album reviews select the first letter of the band or the surname of the artist from the menu above.