The Latest Album, DVD & Book Reviews - AUGUST 2008
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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
Believe it or not, this young band's deliberately colon-ised handle is less a pretension to the hallowed Waterson: Carthy mantle than a genuine attempt at a literal representation of the exciting new artistic collaboration therein: in a nutshell, that vibrant Essex “more than just a ceilidh band” outfit Mawkin in happy conjunction with singer/accordionist Jim Causley (already veteran of two solo CDs and trio The Devil's Interval). Mawkin: Causley have been making serious waves on the folk circuit for the past nine months, although a more intensive performance schedule has not been possible simply due to the logistics involved in getting them all together in one place! I'd guess that very constraint might be the reason that Cold Ruin, their debut recording, is but a six-track EP. Yet it betrays no sign of being recorded in transit or in haste - rather, there's a great feel of spontaneity here, of responsive inventiveness and interaction that rises above the necessity of presenting a pre-defined “arrangement” of each song or tune.
Just marvel at their commanding delivery, the confidence with which they open proceedings on a solid rendition of John Kirkpatrick's song George's Son that shows each of the five band members has thought hard about his interpretation and yet each is prepared to allow for incidental variation in dynamics, light and shade in response to the playing of the rest of the team. Here, as on each track, there's a real sense of adventure alongside the aforementioned confidence in each other's abilities. It's great that it's also never a matter of “Jim with a backing band”, but a genuinely interactive approach to the setting and performance of each song. The fact that each of the five lads is a superb musician helps, naturally; and you realise too that their (in the main) non-folk background informs their open-minded approach to rhythm and blending of parts, as on their defiantly kooky (but it works!) “funkadelic” treatment of the traditional drinking song Come My Lads. Here, the sheer dynamic thrust of Jim's singing recalls the robustness of Duncan McFarlane, and a guest backing vocal from Lauren McCormick works really well. The closing song New York Trader in particular gives plenty of instances of Mawkin members' flair for creating and developing sensitive intricate detail within the texture in response to the text - never do we hear anything approaching a “formula” accompaniment when they get hold of a song, and Jim's rich baritone is marvellous at unassumingly but unerringly conveying the relevant nuances. The one instrumental track consists of a striking, and somewhat busy, pair of tunes that moves brilliantly from a Balkan-sounding take on Playford to a tune by fiddle player James that might have been written for a whirling dervish morris team (and check out Danny's frenetic bass work here!).
Other points worth noting with Mawkin: Causley are the parallel impressions of comparative richness and intense attention to small detail within the total sound (the highly skilled nature of David Delarre's guitar and mandolin work - no mere strummery! - contributes greatly to this latter aspect); while an unusual feature of the band's instrumental complement is the presence of accordion (Jim) and melodeon (Alex) within the same lineup. Finally, I must praise the exceptionally high standard of the production, by Megson man Stu Hanna (who'd produced Mawkin's previous work too): crisp, clear and (you can tell at once) totally in synch with the musicians themselves and their sensibilities. This EP is a mighty fine taster for what should prove to be a stunning full-length album - if those infernal logistics (and the constant demand for them to play live) don't get in the way of it being recorded some day!
David Kidman 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
The fourth album from the Mancunian songstress marks a huge departure from the pastoral contemporary folk and dusty English vocals of her previous releases. Recorded, as you might guess, in Kansas (Lawrence, to be precise) with Mike West, formerly of The Man From Del Monte, in the producer’s chair and sharing multi-instrumental duties with Mat Martin, it’s very much old school American folk-country with a dose of New Orleans jazz and vaudeville for good measure. Some call it boho-folk, she terms it hobopop.
It may also be the best thing she’s recorded. Which, if you’ve heard her other albums, is really saying something.
There’s a political streak to the material too, whether in the self-styled anti-capitalist New Orleans brassy gospel swing The Profit Song, the good timing (yodelling even) Bonecrusher’s sly metaphor about self-destructive greed that could well apply to US foreign policy, or the more direct (yet never obvious) banjo dappled carny shuffle Gunsore with its lines about ‘bombs that splutter in the road’ and ‘angel ray almost seventeen swallowing up the bullets like sweets’.
These are finely offset by the personal with songs about loss; of a relationship (the gentle early Janis Ian touches to the acoustic filigrees of Sparks, the Baez echoes of the hushed, softly sung No Way To Treat A Friend, the wind and rain tearing things apart in Shame) or trust (an achingly pure world-weary Faith).
And if anyone’s written a song that captures the itch of paranoid delusion and nervous breakdown better than the skittering Harlem jazz jive and gypsy guitar of Killer Wasps, I’ve yet to hear it.
But, if there’s loss, psychological hives and self-deluding wanderlust (Alibi Blues), there’s also the pledge of love to the burnished Southern torch sway of Sandman and the mountain music bluegrass of Lamb, the dark passion and sensual intimacy of Dust Devils’ clarinet kissed, Yiddish jazz-blues moods.
Whether this is a one-off or marks the start of a new musical direction for McGee, like its predecessors it’s got an automatic free pass to the albums of the year list.
www.kirstymcgee.com
www.myspace.com/kirstymcgeeandmatmartin
Mike Davies 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
Les Barker's dogged persistence in mining the rich seams of musical humour in conjunction with the well-turned spoken word has paid off once again in this latest collection of musical parodogies and much more besides. Of course, the Mrs. Ackroyd Band stage act is aurally represented here in terms of its personnel (Les himself, Alison Younger, Hilary Spencer and Chris Harvey), but deliberate and reasonable use is made of the studio facilities too where appropriate. The Band turns in some fine performances here, no question, but, just as on previous Mrs Ackroyd discs, the tracks I enjoyed the most tended to include those involving the engagement of guest artists (some well-established folk performers) – and that's not just because I appreciated the various in-jokes. Here, that marvellous duo Cloudstreet present a wonderful character-play version of the ballad of Mrs. Groves and the determinedly “un-PC” tale of The Cruel Motherboard, John Tams treats us to an impassioned On And On (aka Rolling On With CB&S) and June Tabor tackles the tale of The Maid Of Melrose Town with due precision and not a knowing nuance out of place! Messrs. Pint and Dale have a brush with destiny in then shape of the loathsome ballad anti-hero Sensodyne; oh, and Jez Lowe cannily posits that You Won't Like Tom Jones; here and on the following House Of The Rising What?, the keyboard production, brilliantly inventive though it is, sometimes drowns the ends of sung lines and you have to listen very carefully to try to catch all the jokes. The non-guest items also bring some of Les's more recent classics to life: pick of these has to be the album's would-be closer, Alison Younger's delicate rendition of The Farting Lass (and yes, it Burns if you set fire to it!), but Les's doleful recitation of The Marie Depreste and the two cheesy disco hits (Hip-Hop Hamlet and the ladies' Mitsubishi Brick Shogun) are suitably well-drilled. The disc actually ends on Cariad Ar Goll, a distinct curiosity for non-Welsh-speakers – or at any rate those outside W-Rexham (Les's newly-adopted home-base). In all, I won't be dogmatic and say that Dark Side Of The Mongrel is Les's best, for (as is often the case) the one-liners often score over sustained comic invention; but it comes doggone close at times, with some priceless moments.
David Kidman August 2008
Tom Petty recently floated the idea that his original band Mudcrutch (first named the Sundowners, then the Epics), having left some music back there (in the early 1970s), should reunite and go and get it.
Two members of that original band, Mike Campbell and Benmont Trench, had of course hung in there with Petty and achieved success in The Heartbreakers, but guitarist Tom Leadon (brother of Burritos/Eagles man Bernie) and drummer Randall Marsh had spent some years away from the front-line. Petty managed to persuade them to regroup, however, and the result is a really energised collection, recorded live with no overdubs in a recording studio built in the Heartbreakers' rehearsal space, on which a solid clutch of covers stand up well alongside fresh originals from Petty and his cohorts.
The band feel that comes across on this 56-minute set is of a natural chemistry, a powerful togetherness that's equally naturally greater than the sum of its parts (accomplished tho' all these are); solos and breaks are taken as to the manner born yet kept to a sensibly economical level. We're right in there with the boys, comfortable in the musical territory where the Byrds meet Creedence, the Band meet the Burritos, on the easy-rollin' drive through the southern and western States with that truckers' radio goin' full blast...
The opening cover of Shady Grove could hardly be less tentative, and McGuinn's Lover Of The Bayou is given a truly peerless workover that retains its context but updates the sound with crashing watchtower walls of guitar sound. Even that hackneyed old chestnut Six Days On The Road sounds freshly-fuelled at the gas-station pit-stop of memory, and cruises along very nicely thankyou - as does the disc's lone instrumental, a glistening romp through the traditional June Apple.
Among the new original songs, Petty's Orphan Of The Storm in particular is one of those timeless fallen angel country-rockers that could've been written any time since those halcyon days, and satisfies on all levels, as does the infectious Topanga Cowgirl, whereas the album's overall highlight is very probably the epic (nine-minute) Crystal River, another fine Petty composition, which laces some gorgeous keening vocal work with Eight Miles High-style jangle and brooding Doors organ at an ominous stalking pace that lifts a riff from The End out of its weary time-loop.
The remaining originals too are way better than you might expect from a reconstituted band revisiting past glories, even those inhabiting more of a retro-rock groove like Tench's This is A Good Street. This is one of those records that's great for a long car journey: just put it on continuous replay as I've done and you won't get tired of it. Mudcrutch is definitely as good as it gets - no, I'd say better. So go get!
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
Sometimes things just slip through the cracks. How else to excuse the fact that, despite a cv that includes 10 studio albums, one a collection of duets with Willie Nelson, soundtrack contributions, a play, a musical, co-writes with Emmylou, Beth Nielson Chapman and Waylon Jennings, the Lubbock reared, Austin based singer-songwriter and artist has never been reviewed on this site.
Time to make amends with her latest, a collection of covers and new self-penned or co-written material that makes fully appreciate what we've been missing. Taking the covers first, Townes Van Zandt chestnut If I Needed You gets a plaintively straightforward reading that deftly illustrates the little girl side of Rhodes' vocals, a stark contrast to the following treatment of new Southern swampy Rodney Crowell tune Sex & Gasoline where she turns on the slinky raunch you might imagine from the title. The remaining non-original is a simple, acoustic multi-tracked harmonies version of The Fool On The Hill, modest but graceful.
There's three co-writes with Kieran Goss, a gentle summery Beautiful, the Emerald tinted backwoods Americana cornfields shuffling Make The Morning Shine and the similarly inclined gingham and rippling creek mood of Shining Like A Sun. The remaining collaboration, I've Been Loved By You, has more old school country colours, the sort of chiming mid-tempo number you could hear Emmylou and Gram doing back when,
Interestingly, her own material is often of tougher lyrical stuff. Conjuring musical thoughts of Petty's I Won't Back Down, the opening Walls Fall Down sounds an eco theme, a punchy Southern-rock There's A Storm Coming uses flood imagery to address America's gathering economic gloom while the moody, politically veined Your Majesty is a far from thinly disguised swipe at George W.
She can, of course, write in a softer key, finely illustrated by the album's whisperingly apocalyptic play-out track, the tick tocking swayingly Lennon-esque Last Seven Seconds Of The Universe. "Everything is coming to an end", she purrs as the chorus line repeats. I could think of worse singalongs to send us all off into cosmic oblivion.
Mike Davies January 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
Elliott Brood deliver a raw and vitally upfront wall of energy that keeps admirably tight control of light and shade within its often complex instrumental borders. There's often a thrusting punk-rusty-guitar-and-packing-case-drumkit basis to the sound, within which banjos may strum and ukuleles may ripple away - almost doing their own thing, but you can hear the distant relations and the connections in there too. Mark's strong, rasping vocals overlay it all, cascading sometimes pained and aching and sometimes wailing with darker and quite elemental power. The distorted contrasts between full-on-electric and old-school acoustic textures make for an unsettling effect, while there are some decidedly strange touches of scoring too, like the growly brass parts on Woodward Avenue, the weird samples on The Body, and the faded, clinky parlour-upright on Notes, all of which serve to disorient you yet keep you riveted to the speakers.
From the military banjo drumbeat of T-Bill to the Ramones-with-uke vibe of Write It All Down For You and the Glitter Band-influenced country-rock singalong Without Again via the Buzzcocks-meet-Springsteen Garden River, the eerie backporch 31 Years and the crashing onslaught of Chuckwagon, Elliott Brood have given us a gritty, tough album, awesome in both senses of the word: a record where no one track's the same as, or even the mirror image of, its neighbour - but where in fact the common thread lies in the uncompromising and significantly unpredictable nature of the music-making. Sure, there are some messy moments, some stumbles, some curiously illogical interjections, but it's a bit like thinking your way through Trout Mask Replica, where the weirdnesses and inconsistencies start to make their own sense after a while. It may not be an easy ride, but the journey is infinitely better for being made.
David Kidman August 2008
Note: UK Tour this October - check their MySpace
Surprise hits at this year's Cambridge Folk Festival makes the bold ten-piece ensemble Grupo Fantasma at the very least prime candidates for a review of their definitive new album Sonidos Gold. Grupo Fantasma are known as "the funkiest, finest and hard-working Latin orchestra to come out of the US in the last decade", and I'd not question that for a minute judging by this highly animated and splendidly coordinated record. Although their massive, fulsome sound has roots in the traditions of cumbia, salsa and funk, there's also hints of psychedelia and of the progressive sounds of Manu Chao, while acutely-observed comparisons with the 1960s Fania All-Stars sound have also been made. Whatever, there's an awful lot going on in and around these 12 tracks: the opening salvo El Sabio Soy Yo hits you between the ears with an organic assault on the head, hands and feet, with a busy, pulsating and constantly shifting sonic panorama, and the ride doesn't let up for the next 53 minutes. I'm not always terribly enamoured with a lot of Latin-derived music, but I really did respond to this band, with its often bewilderingly diverse array of influences - and it can't be entirely because their music deafened me into submission! Virtually every track is enticingly different too: Arroz Con Frijoles blends some thoroughly exhilarating rhythms and blazing brass with shrill whistles, while Bacalao Con Fan could have come from an unholy marriage of Santana, Caravan and Chicago; Cumbia De Los Pajaritos luxuriates in a roomy reggae vibe, and the occasionally cacophonous Naci De La seems to veer between Afro-psych and Buena Vista. While the steamy Perso Fra I Mesquites brings shades of tex-mex and tango to its shadow-lit texture (and a somewhat abrupt end to the disc). Yes, there's a gloriously cinematic (proudly widescreen) ambience to Grupo Fantasma, which I find tremendously invigorating, and this CD's epic gestures demand, and thrive on, repeated playing - and loud. For it's a defiantly Big sound, and all so very alive!
David Kidman 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
A Norwegian pixie pop fireball whose impulsive, untrammelled Iggy Pop influenced stage performances have led to cracked ribs and regular blood spraying cuts and abrasions, her debut album is a power packed collection of short sharp punky 70s garage pop songs that, like hymn to partying Queen Of The World, give you an idea what The Strokes might be like were they fronted by a cross betwixt Bjork, Chrissie Hynde and Janis Joplin. It bursts with life and the same’s true of everything on the album, whether she’s talking about drinking too much (the tremulously driving Oh My God which calls to mind Coventry new wave heroes The Primitives), depression (the feisty folk Drive Away My Heart), sexual politics (the Blondie goes mod I Love You So Much Better When You’re Naked), God (Stella) or love (the sherbet dab explosion Louie).
She’s not all hyperactivity, both See Me Through and Keep Me Warm show she can handle an early hours slow dance ballad to good effect, but it’s the songs you can as she puts it, dance, drink and go crazy to that are going to make her a star. Maria has a condition called synaesthesia which means she sees music in terms of colour. No wonder she sings a Jackson Pollock rainbow.
Mike Davies August 2008
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
Recorded in MacLeod's favourite European city, The Utrecht Sessions sees a consummate songwriter in his prime. Despite the Scottish name, MacLeod is an American, born and bred, although he now spends a lot of time in Holland where he has mastered one word - Heineken. The album was recorded in such a way that it feels live and MacLeod is in his element.
The opener, Horse With No Rider, has top class slide guitar and is an authentic blues in every way. It is very contemporary and he is in good voice. He stays with dobro and slide for This Old River which has an emotion laden vocal – this is what it is all about. MacLeod builds on this with The Addiction To Blues, which is more upbeat and shows a true troubadour. The Long Black Train is a familiar subject matter for blues and country artists and he gets the effect of the shuffling train to a tee - very clean sound. The Demon's Moan has another wailing vocal and the slide is, as it is throughout, top class. Long Time Road is bouncy and energetic with a very familiar sound.
I Respectfully Decline is soulful and mourning with a simple execution which hides the mastery of his instrument. He is a man confident in his own talent and this Americana is how music should be. That Ain't Right is a country blues with great finger picking, Coming Your Brand New Day is gentle rhythmic blues and Sheep Of A Different Color is a slow John Lee Hooker style blues. What You Got (Ain't Necessarily What You Own) keeps up the standard although he does lose it a bit on some of the guitar breaks. Where You'll Find Me is just one man and his guitar - lovely Americana. The enclosed booklet gives little insights such as the guitar tuning for each song and some musings from MacLeod. For a true live experience you can also buy his DVD - The Blues In Me.
David Blue August 2008
By his early 20's Ben Waters (PJ Harvey's cousin for those of you that like to know that sort of thing) had already played with some of the giants of British rock such as Mick Jagger and Pete Townshend. He also played at Jools Holland's wedding and led the great boogie-woogie pianist to say “boogie-woogie is alive and well. Ben Waters has got the touch and feel for it”.
A few years on sees the release of his first album for Hypertension. The title track does what it says on the tin - a high octane boogie with twinkle fingers Waters on piano. A bit more vocal attack would have set the song up perfectly, especially on the Beach Boys style chorus. Tiny Planet is another boogie with great interaction between Waters' piano and Clive Ashley's saxophone. It is a good piece of social commentary. It's hard to categorise Booker but it builds well and is an homage to James Booker who had a great influence on the young Waters as well as teaching Dr John and Harry Connick Jnr to play piano. The Sky Fell Down is the most commercial song so far and good enough to match chart bands such as The Hoosiers and their ilk. Helicon Boogie has more piano and sax competition with the sax, played by guest Derek Nash, being more than a match on this intriguing instrumental.
Amos Milburn's Roomin House Movie is a shuffling boogie and just good time music played for the fun of it. Mother Natures Molecules has increased pace and you certainly can't criticize his energy. There's a bit of Nick Lowe in his and partner Richard Hymas' songwriting style. The Wasp is a high paced boogie-woogie with sax taking the part of the wasp. Waters' muscles on his left arm must be of Popeye proportions. Who U Lay has funky bass from Hymas and keyboards from Waters and is only one step away from a Steely Dan song. He saves one of his slowest songs to finish with and Inconsequential shows that he has more than one tone to his voice. There are touches of Squeeze in this and the sax fade out is top class. Jools Holland was correct!
David Blue 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
The Mayflies play a delicious rockin' brand of bluegrass, energetic and spontaneous-sounding; home-grown in the local barroom so sometimes a little rough'n'ready, especially in the vocal department (not your smoothly organised harmonies here). Singing duties are shared between banjoist Jon Eric, fiddle player Annie Savage and guitarist Stacy Webster, and the lineup's completed by a swinging, driving rough-and-tumble rhythm section (David Lumberg and James Robinson). Jerusalem Ridge, the Mayflies' third album, comes after a four-year gap, and is titled after the celebrated hoedown that opens proceedings. Things then progress via a loping but edgy, almost good-timey take on I Am A Pilgrim, a frantic kickback Lonesome Road Blues (great if idiosyncratic guitar solo here!) with an even more frantic breakdown coda: a swift half-hour later, the set concludes with another hectic helter-skelter breakdown that even manages to work in a Deep Purple riff somehow! In between, there's a weird, almost Brett Sparks-like take on St. James Hospital, which turns out a standout cut (and I could swear they'd brought a harp in for the first of the track's ripe clutch of solos here, but it ain't credited!); they also tackle Shady Grove (with that harp again!). Throughout, the playing's commendably hot, with licks conjured and traded as to the manner born but with just that little extra inventiveness to lift them above cliché status.
David Kidman August 2008
This is John's tenth album release in all, and his fifth for Red House. It brings a further collection of his contemporary acoustic "expressions of everyday life" that won't disappoint his legions of admirers. Even so, I'd be lying if I said I thought it as memorable a set as some of his earlier albums: some of the songs do take a while to make their mark, and a few have resolutely refused to make an impression after several plays. I'll also readily admit I've never been a full card-carrying member of John's fan base, and don't own all of his previous albums, and that I've often found other folks' covers of John's songs more satisfying than his own original versions. The presence among the guests on Writing In The Margins of fellow singer-songwriters Nanci Griffith, Lucy Kaplansky and Alice Peacock (on backing vocals) is probably as indicative as anything of this, although John's own performance is as appealing as ever, with that characteristic smooth baritone delivery well to the fore as usual and the soft acoustic-driven small-band settings are in the main unobtrusive and attractive in the time-honoured way. This new album breaks with tradition, however, in containing a couple of covers, of which that of Stan Rogers' The Lock-keeper is particularly persuasive although that of Townes Van Zandt's Snow Don't Fall is well-considered too. And among John's own new compositions, the pick for me are the double-edged love song Satellites, the more philosophical Chance Of Rain, the social commentary of Road Of Good Intentions (which rather harks back to John's earlier style), and the reflective title track which takes the form of a letter from a soldier to his love back home. But some of the other songs don't quite connect for me, and the lack of liner notes by way of explanation (for all but one of the songs) doesn't help (still, at least the words are provided in the booklet). And I feel that I Miss Everyone seems to verge perilously close to flippant parody, especially considering its country-styled arrangement. The recording is as tastefully and subtly managed as the backings.
David Kidman August 2008
This Swedish-based Argentinian singer-songwriter is an enigmatic talent, one of whom I hadn't at first expected great things after only obtaining one brief moment of exposure to his debut CD Veneer around three years ago. I found his insistent and idiosyncratic acoustic guitar strumming strangely involving, but filed his name away under “investigate further as and when the chance affords itself”. And, one token appearance on the Jools Holland show notwithstanding, that chance didn't arrive until now, with the belated arrival in my mailbag of José's second album, In Our Nature. But I'm glad it has now come my way, and that I can give José's music an extended listen at long last. From what I recall of Veneer, the newer album doesn't seem much different in overall sound, with just José and his trickling guitar strums forming the soundscape for the majority of the time (a smidgen of percussion and some backing vocals flesh things out a bit at times, as does a synth on The Nest, but that's all). The inevitable Nick Drake comparisons will be made with the overall rippling sparseness of the music, but the songs themselves - all bar one José's own compositions - don't bear that comparison as readily I find. Each song tends to be based around a hypnotic, mantra-like figure, yet the words often seem to have been developed almost independently of the rhythmic impetus. Sure, there are traces of flamenco, as in Killing For Love, but José's general style, though clearly modelled on the Spanish/classical mode, probably owes as much to the Nick Harper school in terms of its softly relentless impact. The latter quality can distract from the inherent compassion in his lyrics - for without the necessary melodic focus these can seem a trifle obtuse, and careful listening is required in order to make the most of them. And it does take a few plays to start to separate individual tracks from one another to any great degree: a feature which will be a drawback to those seeking instant gratification, who may well find José's cover of the Massive Attack song Teardrop the most compelling item here. But, like many artists, José has much to offer the patient listener, once over those slightly underwhelming first impressions.
David Kidman August 2008
Honest, yes. And open-hearted and direct of expression: that's the kind of vibe you get from this Nashville-based singer-songwriter. His songs are thoughtful, and they tend to be couched in a language which renders them a wake-up call for people to pay attention to important issues in the world like the global water crisis. Indeed, Mike founded the charity Thirst Aid Live, and the album's most high-profile cut America (according to the press release, already a multi-media sensation) highlights his mission in strong and powerful musical language employing bold brush-strokes rather than subtle shadings. Other songs here are hardly less potent in those terms, with spirited, bright and forward arrangements that have a distinct pop edge (some, like Everybody's Hero, recalling Coldplay, others like Real Big World veering more into euro-dance and disco). Mike seems to run out of steam with the final track, which is nothing more than a chord sequence played as a synthy new-age instrumental piece. But it's probably impossible to ignore the thrust of Mike's songs, even if the musical idiom he's chosen is for the most part more glossy mainstream than roots Americana. Honest is Mike's third album, apparently, but his website seems devoid of any background details prior to the current release. Going on this evidence though, Mike's a capable, confident artist with a keen sense of right and wrong and artistic proportion.
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
Young Scottish harpist Ailie's pedigree is already impressive: five times National Mod Gold Medallist, erstwhile member of the Scottish Harp Orchestra, Na Clarasairean, and currently member of international six-piece band The Outside Track (who have been delighting UK festival audiences over the past year, and whose CD I reviewed in Stirrings 133). Inevitably, Ailie's debut solo CD is a more intimate affair, with an at times quite laid-back atmosphere that's both soothing and invigorating. Ailie's instrument is the clarsach (the small harp whose recent resurgence has been led by the likes of Corrina Hewat and Patsy Seddon), and its unique and definitive sound-world is captured here in a demonstration-class recording that manages to convey all the relevant nuances and timbres in due perspective without sounding at all clinical or sterile. Each of the eleven tracks brings its own special delights, starting with the almost jazzy insouciance of the opening set of jigs, where the rippling joy of the harp line offsets James Ross's classy piano embellishments and the crisp, busy percussion backing (Paul Jennings on cajon). The playing is sprightly, yet with an enviably relaxed precision of attack that holds the listener's attention throughout - and this quality applies equally to the slower-paced items on the disc, notably the gorgeous slow air Spirits (co-written by Angus Lyon and his father), which forms its centrepiece. The Irish and Scottish hornpipes that are wedded together on the gently swinging Marry Me Now set are a model of delicate playing, with Ailie's deft syncopations and skilfully bent “blue notes” enticingly complemented by guitar (Ewan Robertson) and bass (Duncan Lyall); these same two musicians bring an exhilarating sense of drive to the tricky time-signatures of Ailie's own tune Good Spirits in the ensuing set. Ailie's slower-than-customary treatment of The Favourite Dram brings out its inherent beauty in a way I've not heard on any other recording of the tune, while her own composition Sands Of Hosta (written after a long beach walk on North Uist) is both genuinely tranquil and introspectively evocative. And you can hear Ailie taking the harp technique into hitherto-uncharted areas of innovation and expertise on tracks such as the infectious Angus Jigs set: the closer you listen, the more detail there is to revel in. First Things First is a thoroughly charming disc, replete with both a consummate finger-dancing intelligence and an irrepressible joie-de-vivre.
www.myspace.com/ailierobertson
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
This latest offering from Tom and Barbara, those irrepressible West Country singers who are perennially welcome visitors to folk clubs and festivals around this fair isle, has only just come to my attention - however, it was actually issued last year, as what the duo themselves term “a mainly self-funded project, produced specifically for the village hall circuit and for local sales”, and thus not widely circulated outside that remit. Which is a pity, for it's a generously-filled (72-minute) thematic compilation, which collects together a dozen tracks from the duo's existing recorded output for WildGoose and nine newly-recorded tracks. Indeed, West Country Night Out proves a very attractive stand-alone release, even if you already own one or more of Tom and Barbara's previous three CDs (and if not, then why not?!) - having said which, this compilation may well provide the incidental incentive to complete your collection! For you can't go wrong with these rich and characterful renditions of songs and tunes, both well-loved and lesser-known, originating from Somerset, Dorset, Devon and Cornwall. Tom and Barbara are the ideal interpreters of this indigenous material, and they can always be relied upon to bring warmth, affection, vital expression and a keen sense of fun to their renditions, whether acappella or with selective yet perfectly-judged instrumental accompaniment. The programme for this delightful “night out” encompasses typically bracing versions of “popular” (but no less welcome) selections like Tavistock Goosey Fair, The Farmer's Boy, Widecombe Fair and Lamorna, the original “west-ender's song” (well, only because it namechecks Albert Square I guess!), and less well-trodden (though brilliant) comic creations like My Old Game Cock, Mortal Unlucky Ol' Chap and Paul Wilson's Bampton Fair, also the quite charming miniature Barnstaple Fair, within the context of which nestle comfortably more lyrical material like Seeds Of Love, The Watchet Sailor and Barbara's own lovely air Where Umber Flows. The whole disc contains many neglected gems of repertoire that well balance the chestnuts - though even these are blessed with sterling performances that would be hard to better. Although Tom and Barbara are variously augmented by other fine musicians here and there, the freshly-recorded songs are true duo performances (well, virtually - for label boss Doug Bailey adds some chorus vocals!) that really do reflect their companionable, unpretentiously captivating and thoroughly entertaining live act. Thankfully, you don't need to go all the way to a far-flung west-country village hall to get a copy of this excellent CD - just go to Tom and Barbara's website And now there's even better news: Tom and Barbara's next all-new CD, another themed collection (the maritime-flavoured Beyond The Quay), is due any time now - can't wait!
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
The PR blurb suggested that if you were into Fleet Foxes then this album from the South London based (but Linconshire rooted) sextet would also ring your bell. Truth to tell, it's not the most immediate comparison point. Rather think the Byrds, Burritos, CSN&Y and that whole 60s West Coast sound filtered through a British sensibility.
So, the new Teenage Fanclub, then. Which, if you check the guide book, you'll know means breezy country pop melodies, close harmonies, jangly guitars and lots of musical sunshine. Grantura check all those boxes with glowing confidence, lacing the songs with copious rural imagery and talk of oceans, crops, the passing of the seasons, and the like.
But there's a darkness woven here too. In the clattering banjo and nervy percussion of In Dreams, the bucolic folk and rowdy rock Land Of the Big Skies with its doom laden dichotomy of life in the country and the city, in the despair and loss of faith that veins the acoustic Hymn For A Drunk, a song that suggests Ralph McTell, Woody Guthrie and ISB albums may be in their collection too.
With its rowdy guitar breaks, Lazarus shows they can rock out (in a 60s stylee, obviously) while Down From The Mountain illuminates their folk-psychedelia side and Holly is pure Sweethearts of the Rodeo with a twist of early Richard Thompson, which, if you add everything up, seems persuasive reason enough to share a pillow. PS: If you're wondering, the band name comes from the classic British TVR sports car of the late 50s.
Mike Davies 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.