A to Z Album and Gig Reviews
Whatever level of success he attains or respect he deservedly earns, Will Kimbrough will always be undervalued. The reason is simple, he is one of the best songwriters and singers working today.
But Daddy offers far more than simply Will Kimbrough because he is joined on stage by Tommy Womack - bringing back memories of their days as bis-quits - John Deaderick, Paul Griffith and Dave Jacques in what was clearly a night to remember. No disrespect to Deaderick, Griffith or Jacques but this is in essence Kimbrough and Womack, the pair write the album (apart from a magical The Powers That Be/Ooh La La segue) and they play their songs like their lives depended on them
On this live CD, recorded in front of family and friends at Frankfort's Women's Club (Frankfort Kentucky), the band obviously feels comfortable enough to let rip and the result is some God-fearing country and some blues/rock that'll put the fear of God into you.
The explanantion behind the band's name is because none of its members are in the first flush of youth and, as anyone can tell you, no-one plays guitar like your Daddy. The second explanation appears to be the most plausible because you'll hear things you've never heard before and guitars treated in a way that becomes almost cruel.
The opening track Glory Be stays true to its title, it and Cold Chill are irresistible calls to the faithful rather than the merely tracks in a gig. After that, if it weren't musicians of the calibre of Womack and Kimbrough the album could be affectionately sub-titled 'youth recaptured', it is unashamed and unadulterated guitar rock. Gloryland, which finishes the album, sounds as if its being played with the fires of hell lapping at the band's feet.
If Daddy is a side project for both Kimbrough and Womack, then they've redefined the term. I can think of one world renowned guitarist whose side project isn't worth the name but this is energetic, passionate and all are fully commited to it and take it as 'seriously' as they would their 'day jobs'.
But for all the fire and brimstone it's the quality of the songs that stands out Womack's 'I Miss Ronald Reagan' sounds like it should be piece of nonsense verse but in fact it uses its lightness and wit to drive home a serious point and in the end you'll find yourself nodding in agreement, while Nightmares becomes a self-fulfilling prophecy.
Daddy At The Women's Club is certainly more rock n roll than you might expect, although Happy In Your Skin and Cousin Darryl are superb slices of flyblown, lazy river, country blues, enchanting and easy on the ear.
But whatever the style or genre, Kimbrough and Womack have produced an album that is a joy from first to last and one that provides an experience that could surely only be bettered by being there when it was recorded.
Michael Mee, February 2006
Steve Daggett - Songs In A Carrier Bag
The title of Steve Daggett's new album sums up the delight and the dilemma which surrounds a singer/songwriter who is one of the foundations on which north east music is built.
Songs is an accurate, if slightly emotionless start but then up leaps the self-deprecating In A Carrier Bag suggesting a humbleness which is misplaced. There are some with a tenth of Daggett's talent who shout twice as loud about it.
If the category exists then Steve Daggett is the singer songwriter's singer songwriter. His passionate performance of The Ballad Of Jimmy Forsyth, accurately mirrors the passion of the writing.
It is also a typical Steve Daggett song, deviod of pretension it is plain speaking and beautifully visual. Daggett's spare but emotive use of lyrics is onl;y one of his many strengths.
Daggett at times plays down the depths his songs reach but Pretty Useless is a biting and compassionate, confessional love song. It could easily be any one of us looking in the mirror at that particular track.
Folk artists, because that is what he undoubtedly is, are sometimes thought of as unnecessarily intense and introspective but Daggett is the exception there is an openness and robustness about his music. He has a big talent and a big heart both of which are on display on Songs In A Carrier Bag, it's just that title.
Michael Mee
Steve has been around in the music industry for many years, working with the likes of Stiletto, Ronnie Lane, The Fabulous Poodles, and latterly Lindisfarne. It was with the North Eastern combo that he developed a fast friendship with the late, great Alan Hull, and on this, his first solo album the influence is clear.
The arrangements are generally sparce, with mandoline and acoustic much to the fore, accenting Steves' gravelly vocals, something of a cross between Dylan, Tom Petty and suchlike.
But it is the songs themselves that make this on of the best singer/songwriter collections that I have heard in a long while. Highlights are 'Mandoline Moon' - a tribute to Alan Hull - the lyrics containing the titles of some of Alan's songs, 'Just to see You Smile' - very reminsicent of Petty's 'Don't Come Around Here No More', but individual nevertheless. 'Rise' is a heartfelt exhortation for better things to come, 'Love Song (part one)' is simply beautiful - the track of the album.
'Live Your Life Your Own Way' has a wonderful dulcimer and border pipe arrangement, 'Have a drink' is a bit of Geordie fun. 'Always on my Mind' reminds me of early Neil Young, with some nice harmonica and lyrics of longing. 'Evening World' gently rounds of this most impressive release. Cracking album!
Jon Hall
Dàimh is the Gaelic word for affinity or kinship - and never was there a more appropriate band name in my opinion. This six-piece outfit brings together musicians from the West Highlands, Ireland, Cape Breton and the Irish-American scene, and the lineup comprises Angus MacKenzie (Highland and Border pipes), Gabe McVarish (fiddle), Colm O'Rua (banjo, mandola), Ross Martin (guitar), James Bremner (bodhrán) and Calum Alex MacMillan (singer). Calum, a former Gaelic Mod winner, is the most recent addition to the band. Dàimh's is a unique sound indeed, with an awful lot going on yet never sounding unduly cluttered - just take a listen to the weaving of the various lines (pipes, banjo, fiddle) with the driving rhythm backing (guitar, bodhrán) on the first track, a sparkling set of pipe tunes (kicking off with a bold strathspey), or stunning Trip To Glenfinnan set (track 3), where each and every contribution is both clear and significant. The Turbo Shandy strathspeys-and-reels set (track 6) is another rousing escapade. Dàimh's collective music-making is characterised here and throughout the disc by a magnificent and often quite overwhelming sense of exhilaration, absolute enjoyment and togetherness. There's another splendid illustration of this on the Anxo's set, which brings a pair of Galician muiñeiras into happy conjunction with a pair of jigs and additionally features guest contributions from Galician musicians Anxo Lorenzo (gaita) and Xose Liz de Cea (bouzouki). Here, as ever, producer Iain MacDonald does a grand job in keeping the textures crisp yet full-blooded, while he also contributes a flute part to several of the tracks. There is another, less fiery side to the band now though on this, their third CD (albeit their first for Greentrax): three of the album's twelve tracks are sensitive treatments of Gaelic songs which showcase the expressive skills of Calum Alex, a fluent and appealing singer, in tandem with some comparably expressive accompanying instrumental work from the other band members. The fourth, and liveliest song, originating from the isle of Lewis, has one of those tongue-twisting hò rò choruses and features the small Clachnabrochan Gaelic Choir on backing vocals. Even on the gentler musical climate of the songs (and the slow air Sealg a's Sùgradh nan Gleann), there's a joyous and wholly communicative quality to the band's music that really cheers the spirits. Another Greentrax winner.
David Kidman March 2008
Heather hails from Toronto; she writes and performs her own material, which is forthright storytelling-folk, mostly with a distinct Celtic bent (tho' happily without the unfortunate feyness that tag implies) and sometimes incorporating local-legendry in the vein of, say, Tanglefoot. Some of Heather's previous four albums have embraced detailed dealings in Arthurian legend, but the focus here is more wide-ranging, taking in the Irish hero Oisín (Adrift), the Decameron (the racy Up Into The Pear Tree), Maid Marian (Confession) and Inuit mythology (Sedna - a disc highlight that reminded me a little of Burning Times), and as often as not using myth as metaphor (Medusa). Heather's songs have much to offer, especially when performed and arranged as persuasively as they are on this disc - and she has a really good voice too. The Greyhound is a stirring tale of maritime tragedy, whereas the title track is a catchy acappella-with-percussion celebration of the spirit of the pilgrimage, set to a suitably sinuous and exotic melody. Heather's voice (and approach) have been compared to Loreena McKennitt and Sarah McLachlan, and on songs like Hunter the comparison is apt, with its tasteful neo-classical setting reinforcing that impression. The two non-originals on the album are good choices too: first there's Graham Pratt's Black Fox (one of those rare hunting songs where the fox actually wins!), which is followed by the rousing (but less often heard) Stan Rogers song Flowers Of Bermuda. The instrumental settings Heather employs are inventive and well considered, utilising guitar, cello, violin/fiddle, recorders, piano, and often bass and drums too, with occasional exotica such as both varieties of dulcimer, bowed psaltery and didgeridoo sparingly used, but the arrangements are always attractive and accessible if at times the sheer smoothness and level of accomplishment seems a trifle too easily won perhaps. Even so, The Road To Santiago adds up to much more than just another predictably appealing slice of Canadian Celtic which it might at first appear to be. Presentation is excellent too, with notes and full song texts.
David Kidman March 2008
With half of the songs tributes to her dad, somewhat inevitably there's an air of grief therapy about things as she celebrates his life and ponders their relationship, the title track a bittersweet reflection on 'precious time wasted' in not getting to know him better and about conversations never had while the likes of I'm Your Child, One Year On and Rainbow ("the passing of time is a healer") are all fairly self-explanatory.
Elsewhere she's to be found examining herself on the likes of Lost Girl and This Is My Skin or singing about loves and relationships gone (Alive), found (Breath of Live) or questioned (Funny Little Mystery). Possessed of a smoky honeyed voice, musically you'll hear shades of both Carole King and (on the catchy Funny Little Mystery especially) a less quirky Tori Amos in her spare piano ballads while the English pop acoustic strums of things like the summery Alive call to mind Harriet Wheeler of The Sundays and the rockier blood of This Is My Skin bears hints of Sharleen Spiteri. She has a firm grasp of melody, letting her voice soar or float as the mood requires and while a couple of the tracks tend to drift away into meandering folksiness with slightly 5th form girlie poetry lyrics for the most part this marks her a talent to keep an eye on.
Mike Davies
An unusual album this - 27 tracks of solo piano, playing repertoire drawn principally from the American fiddle tradition, mostly in an appealing and neatly mobile ragtime groove, with hints here and there of New Orleans stride or boogie styles. Apparently, Colm's known in old-time circles as a guitarist and occasional fiddler, but it's clear from this home-produced CD that he's no mean pianist too! In fact, it's also a good bet that you'll not have heard this music played quite like this; to some it may sound a potential recipe for disaster (on paper at least), but I find it stimulating and intriguing, not least because it points up the close (and under-appreciated) kinship between the traditional fiddle tunes and the ragtime of Scott Joplin and his era, and how naturally the latter developed in full knowledge of the former from the sprightly minstrelsy of the cakewalk players.
Aspects of ragtime technique abound, such as ornamentation and trills, while heavy syncopation often takes the place of the four-square rhythmic orientation of the original dance tunes. Remember how Joshua Rifkin's deliberate and unhurried renditions of Joplin invoked charges of "heresy"?!; well, this ain't heresy either, but again just a different slant on the music, and is most refreshing. Colm's "walking bass" has an enviable solidity, but occasional unavoidable imperfections elsewhere in his playing don't matter a jot, as he effortlessly and naturally communicates his enjoyment of the music with a good-time vibe in every bar (and juke-joint!). He's not afraid to exercise expressive rubato on the less pacey numbers like Ashokan Farewell and Margaret's Waltz either, and he's not averse to a bit of henhouse vamp (as on Growling Old Men), while he also relishes a bit of Jerry Lee Lewis when the mood takes him; to his credit, though, his approach is so fully-formed that none of these influences seems out of place within the context of his treatments of the material.
homepage.ntlworld.com/colm.daly
David Kidman
That rather twee and perhaps overtly chummy name conceals what's actually a fresh-sounding young duo from Warwickshire who here present their debut CD, a collection of self-arranged songs (mostly traditional in origin) with some tunes thrown in for good measure. Majoring on the exceedingly pure (=read also sibilantly pretty) vocal tones of Susie Bones with brother Dan on guitar, Danansooz give us some thoughtful, interesting and generally audience-friendly takes on those songs. Glancing at the track-list, well, many of these you'd think you've probably had enough of during the recent folk revival. But do stop to listen - starting with the duo's adventurous, melancholy, minor-key take on Bonnie Light Horseman; although there's a modicum of additional instrumental backing (including a piano keyboard), it's ably and attractively managed and does not intrude on Susie's interpretation of the text. A similar degree of thoughtfulness is much in evidence on the majority of the songs here, from an unusually sprightly Shamrock Shore to a tender Lass Of Glenshee. Susie's acapella rendition of Searching For Lambs (where she benefits from doubletracking with her own harmonies) is both brave and proficient, and works well. Some might feel that Susie's sheer beauty of tone isn't quite enough to carry Song For Ireland to its lofty heights, but hers is still a believable interpretation, and the fiddle and piano backing (courtesy of Joe O'Donnell and Peter McDonald respectively) is certainly a very lovely touch. Other friends marshalled for the recording include Harriet Bartlett, Ian Hartland, Mabel Morgan and George Van Ristell, and they provide neat and unobtrusive embellishments to Dan's guitar and bass and Susie's whistle at various times. The duo's playing on the tunes (which crop up mainly as codas to songs) is commendably efficient and provides the necessary variety in timbre to keep our interest. Very occasionally I feel there's almost a too self-conscious desire to be different or to make an impression, but, a few slightly mannered interpretative quirks aside, Danansooz exhibit a naturalness and bright, keen edge to their treatments of what are viewed as overly well-worn songs, and they display a clear-sighted sense of enterprise which is to be encouraged. Benji Kirkpatrick's composition Tolling Bell makes an unusual and effective choice for closer, capped by a performance of Paddy McCarthy's Reel. This is a very pleasing release: a most credible debut, and with the right exposure (and possibly a change of name?) I'd forecast greater things for Danansooz.
David Kidman
David Kidman
The Dandy Warhols - Odditorium Or Warlords of Mars (Parlophone)
Popular wisdom says that the Dandys have never really produced anything to match Bohemian Like You, the song that struck them lucky by being picked up saturated all over a Vodafone commercial. This is clearly nonsense. They may not have become world dominating superstars, but Courtney Taylor-Taylor and the band have consistently turned out interesting and at times irresistible material both before and after the HIT.
Following on from the Nick Rhodes produced electro washed Welcome to the Monkeyhouse, they've sort of gone back to basics with an album (named after their studio) that rocks in the same way as acknowledged blueprint Primal Scream and rather obvious reference point, the Rolling Stones. Indeed, in the spoken word intro spoof that charts the band's shift from banjo playing hicks to seminal rocking influences on Bill Haley and Elvis, the narrator even 'quotes' Courtney as saying 'it's only rock n roll but I think I like it'.
They don't ease you in either. The first track, the stunning Love Is The New Feel Awful, is a nine and a half minute epic of swirling psychedelia, martial beat, plangent guitars, wailing sax and Hawkwind freak out midsection that takes your breath away. They don't give you time to recover either, following up with seven minutes of Easy with its snaky hissed breath vocals and Stones on funky heat rhythmic strut. And while they're in a Stones mood they let slip All The Money Or The Simple Life Honey that reminds you of what Jagger and Richards were capable of when they were lean and hungry bad boys.
It's not all Rolling rock though. The New Country is a thigh-slapping hoe down with its tongue planted firmly in its musical cheeks, complete with yeehawing whoops, Holding Me Up harks to My Bloody Valentine while Smoke It and Down Like Disco are Stooges garage punk riff pounding mayhem and Everyone Is Totally Insane and the close on 12 minute blues moaning strung out closer A Loan For Tonight take their cues from 80s electro, the former a nod to Duran, the latter a Depeche Mode style dark sludgy dirge that sounds like they're writhing on their deathbed, guts churned with poison. They're not, in fact they've probably never been healthier. Their red planet is clearly in a most auspicious orbit.
Mike Davies
Hands up those who don't know the name of Barbara Dane! Not all that long ago I would've been one to do so, I'm ashamed to admit, tho' I suppose it's mostly because I just wasn't around the right part of the scene at the time. For Barbara was primarily a blues singer, and this album, formerly entitled When I Was A Young Girl, was her only true folk recording. Originally issued in 1959, it came as a bold awakening for many fans who were hitherto unaware of Barbara's deep folk roots. Barbara's singing is extraordinary, her gorgeously dark timbre bringing a powerful blues sensibility to these songs which comprise such an important part of her heritage.
It's no exaggeration to say that listening to Barbara on tracks like When I Was A Young Girl, Turkey Reveille (a variant of Golden Vanity) and Nine Hundred Miles, you could easily be forgiven for not realising she was a white woman, so amazingly soulful and gutsy is the way she uses her voice. No wonder that on its original release this LP garnered such considerable attention - even securing a major feature story in Ebony magazine - and no wonder that artists from Janis Joplin to Tracy Chapman have cited Barbara as a big influence, tho' I suspect you'll hear many more contemporary singers who've (possibly unknowingly) been influenced to some extent by Barbara. And now, after almost fifty years of musical water have flown under that ol' bridge, it's still headline news in my opinion as regards quality of music-making is concerned.
Barbara's voice and guitar are augmented on many of the tracks by Tom Paley's deft, idiomatic banjo or guitar. All of which adds up to an essential purchase that's likely to open your ears and provide you with must-hear-and-keep versions of some now-well-travelled traditional material. This excellent reissue comes complete with full original liner notes too.
David Kidman January 2007
Luke Daniels and Jonathan Preiss - Above The Bellow (Gael Music)
Button-accordionist and singer Luke was winner of the Young Tradition Award in 1994, since which time his career has involved stints with De Dannan and the Riverdance band, working as a songwriter alongside Eleanor Shanley and with such prestigious musicians as Arty McGlynn and Cathal Hayden. His career to date has been anthologised on a Wren Records release The Secret Sessions, which I intend to review at a later date, but it's no secret that Luke's an extremely talented player. Ever since he and guitarist Jonathan Preiss worked together on Howard Shore's music for Lord Of The Rings at the RAH, Luke's been busy preparing the material that has become Above The Bellow. Jonathan's best known for his work with the London Guitar Trio and Brazilian jazz project Caratinga, and his seven-stringed instrument brings to this album of roughly half-traditional, half self-penned material an intimate and subtle classical styling with engaging overtones of Brazilian and folk inflections. Luke's own playing is on a technical level highly proficient and a distinctive presence throughout the CD as you'd expect, but in terms of phrasing Luke can sometimes be quite self-effacing, stepping back from the limelight, and there are times when one could almost argue that it's Jonathan's warm and almost telepathic complementary guitar work that provides the album's primary musical and textural signature. Jonathan's contributions are gently virtuosic and always most intelligently considered, certainly more so than guitar accompanists are normally given credit for, and there's a lot more going on across the fretboard than it's possible to take in on one or even two playthroughs (I'm still getting the measure after half-a-dozen!). The opening track (The Road To Salalah) provides a good example, wherein melodic and rhythmic embellishment alternates with counterpoint in an ever-changing permutation, the instrumental lines weaving around each other in intriguing empathy. Jonathan's harmonic adventurousness comes to the fore on the musicians' arrangement of Long Acre, where shifts and variations in tempo and pulse between the two instrumental parts provide felicitous and unexpected contrasts of mood. Both musicians demonstrate their aptitude for a variety of instrumental styles, from the spiky verve they bring to straightforward traditional tunes like Bobby Casey's to the stylish Parisian café-music ambience of Musette à Teresa. Among the CD's ten tracks will be found three songs (two of which are Luke's own compositions), where Luke handles vocal duties in an attractive, drawling, laid-back manner that's reminiscent of Bert Jansch (especially on Way Back Home) but in the final analysis is probably a bit lacking in presence in terms of enunciation and not always seeming to identify with the words. That minor consideration aside, I'm very impressed with the musicianship and performances on this CD. However, I'm not anything like as impressed with the accompanying booklet; firstly, it's decidedly deficient as regards background information on the music performed, but secondly, it's got the composition credits for several of the tracks mixed up – track 3, The Silver Spire, is traditional, whereas track 4, A River Runs, is one of Luke's compositions, and – more seriously – track 6 (Field Behind The Plow, a cover of the beautiful Stan Rogers song) is mis-credited as track 9, while to compound the injury Stan's surname is even misspelt Rodgers… unforgivably careless!
www.queen-mab.com/index.htm?home
David Kidman
That will be Danny George Wilson then, Australian sometime singer with Grand Drive, welcoming along members from The Brakes, Electric Soft Parade and Goldrush to create his second solo album, the follow up to The Famous Mad Mile. Where that adopted a simple campfire acoustic approach, this time round (taking its title from Roald Dahl's novel) things are a little lusher with brass, strings and even a dash of sitar adding extra textures to his self-described 'celebration of collective yesness'.
Co-written with Neal Casal, opening track The Truest Kind sets the vibe with its strummed guitar, Wilson's warm croon, backwoods hula society humming harmonies and a melody that strokes the sun from the sky.
Neatly dividing itself into the bouncy upbeat and dreamy slower numbers, the former's gorgeously represented by the jubilantly summery The Ghosts And Me and the good times by the creek These Days while a hillbilly CS&N styled bluesy folk Shadow Of The Wolf and Red Tree Song with its air of hilltops and clear skies are prime examples of the latter.
There's only eight tracks, but three of these clock in at over seven minutes with two of them proving the album highlights; the plaintive confessional I Still Believe which builds slowly to almost Polyphonic Spree proportions, and the epic When The Summer's Gone, a majestic number that starts out as a simple backporch, mandolin rippling folk and, introducing brass, swells to a tumultuous, heart-bursting street parade finale. Pure yesness, indeed.
www.thechampionsoftheworld.org
Mike Davies May 2008
Danú - One Night Stand - DVD (Danú)
MAGIC! TREMENDOUS! ONE OF THE BEST DVDs I OWN! ? Well you asked me to be honest didn't you? The snag is always what else to say about a band whom I've already praised to the skies reviewing their CDs, what more can you say?
OK, I accept the challenge, reluctantly. The majority of this DVD is a no-nonsense record of a concert Danú gave at the famous Vicar Street venue in Dublin, in front of a capacity and well appreciative crowd which included friends, relatives and assorted invited guests, many of whom joined the band on stage at strategic points during their set. It really is the next best thing to being there, and puts many live videos and DVDs to shame.
All the usual Danú hallmarks are there - the easy virtuosity of each individual musician, the ease and panache with which they interact, the easy rapport with their audience. And lest I be criticised for making it sound too ?easy?, there's not a trace of complacency in the performance, just that fabulous mix of well-rehearsed and properly planned arrangements with an enviable natural spontaneity. Each musician knows just when to step back and let the contributions of others breathe out through the texture. And those moments during the tune-sets when the y move up through the gears (and/or keys) to take the tune round again with ever more dashing dexterity, there's always one more notch on the gear-lever and they're having such a great time that they just have to share it with you. It fair blows the socks off me feet and reduces me to tears of unreserved joy and abandon! And then there's the shining presence of beautiful singer/whistle player Muireann Nic Amhlaoibh (pause for mild swoon here)? natural grace and poise personified (and not in the least showing off to her dad in the audience!). Her rendition of Mollai Na g-Cuach (accompanied only by Donnchadh's bodhrán), movingly dedicated to Frank Harte (also in the audience that night), is an intimate showstopper before the solo-set sequence.
Well I know I've said all this before, but it needs saying again, for Danú really are the finest out of the Irish traditonal acts I've seen live in recent years, no question. And they're such easy, charming folks to meet too, as I discovered when I compèred for them in York just a few weeks ago. But back to this excellent DVD. The sound quality is just brilliant, and the video recording faithfully captures the sheer busy-ness of the band's presence - there's always so much going on, so many details in the ever-changing combinations of colours and textures, the measured-but-enormous-fun ambience they so effortlessly generate whenever they pick up their instruments.
There are, as you might guess, some enticing and exciting unique features about this concert, mainly centred around the extra-special guests. There's the generation-bridging appearance of fiddler John Sheahan onstage with Liam Clancy's son Donal to perform his own ?impish hornpipe? complete with ?demented? jazz chords! There's the stepdancing prowess of box player Benny's brother Stephen McCarthy - who needs Riverdance?! There's the slightly-panto silliness of dancers Des and Peggy. And finest of all, the Grand Finale with guests a-plenty (I haven't yet mentioned Sharon Shannon, Phil Cunningham, Aongus McAuley, Des Dillon?) crowding the stage out to bow, blow, squeeze and strum their hearts out in boundless energy.
The DVD also contains 15 minutes' extra concert footage, including what was for me the musical nadir, Phil Cunningham leading a rendition of the Londonderry Air (here punningly retitled Danú Boy!) - only the nadir because I never liked that tune?!). There's also a sequence of interview segments and little on-the-road-tales, and even some early concert footage including a brief excerpt from Muireann's first ever gig with the band! All in all, as I said, a winning DVD that's the most persuasive advocate for the power and charm of Irish traditional music at its best.
David Kidman
Danú - When All Is Said And Done (Shanachie)
I could so easily have resorted to a swift cop-out for this review merely in order to meet the CD's release date deadline, saying something like "another sparkling and exuberant album from one of Ireland's most invigorating young traditional bands". Well sure, it is all of those things, and how, but there's always been so much more to Danú's art - as I'm finding is being revealed on each successive play. Of course, the instrumental sets (which comprise seven out of the album's twelve tracks) make their impact right from the first playthrough, but the five vocal tracks (being deceptively gentler) tend to win you over rather more gradually, possibly due to the elegant and mildly understated way that Muireann Nic Amhlaoibh sings. In the latter respect especially then, there's not the obvious change in band sound since 2003's The Road Less Traveled which that CD had brought from their previous offering, primarily because the role of lead singer remains the province of the lovely Muireann. Indeed (and unusually too, you may think!), the entire band lineup is unaltered (ie Tom and Éamon Doorley, Donnchadh Gough, Donal Clancy, Oisín McAuley and Benny McCarthy). I so love the way that Danú's performances combine clarity of expression and purpose with a sense of spaciousness, allowing the nuances of the music to breathe through the contributions of the individual musicians, each of whom understands so well just when - and how - to pull back or step forward. The concept of "the egalitarianism of the session" may sound academic, and Danú's members do take it seriously, but hey, they know how to have fun with it. And I've commented before (but there's no harm in reiterating) regarding the breathtaking way that Danú as an ensemble combine an intelligently managed lightness of overall texture that's truly amazing for a seven-piece with an aptitude for selectively thickening that texture at crucial moments in the music that fair makes the goose-pimples rise, and a thundering drive that's equally selectively employed. If anything, these miraculous qualities have been even more finely honed for this new CD, almost certainly due to the large number of unbelievably dynamic live performances they've given in the intervening years. Moments where individual instruments enter the arena with their specific melodic input are managed impeccably yet at the same time so very creatively, combining attitude with grace, forthrightness with delicate clarity. Also, the band prove so at ease with their material that they can be unafraid to take chances and try out fresh (for them) instrumental complements to achieve different textural nuances and interplays, as the glorious twin-fiddle and twin-flute work on the Coachman's Whip set so ably demonstrates. It's a shame, then, that the whole package is compromised just a smidgen by too many careless errors in the credits (for instance, Gerry "4 Men And A Dog" O'Connor guests on banjo on track 11, not track 9 as listed, whereas Tom and Oisín contribute backing vocals to track 10 not track 11, and Éamon plays fiddle on track 7 not track 10 - I'd better resist the temptation to go on…!). The other sad news that the CD's title hints at is the band's plan to considerably pare down their future touring appearances outside of Ireland once their current crop of commitments has been honoured - so I urge you to catch them on one of their few remaining dates this summer before they become another infuriatingly absent legend!
David Kidman
www.danu.net
www.copperplatedistribution.com
David Kidman
www.danu.net
www.copperplatedistribution.com
David Kidman
Danú - All Things Considered (Shanachie)
The third album from this bright young Irish seven-piece, who following an exceptional second release (Think Before You Think) were crowned 'Best Band Of The Year' at the BBC 2001 Folk Awards and have gone down a storm with their exciting yet intelligent performances of tunes and songs. Danú's undergone one line-up change recently; fiddler Jesse Smith parted company with the band shortly after recording this new album (he appears on all but one of the tracks), to be replaced by Donegal fiddler Oisín McAuley. The band's winning combination of abundant unbridled energy and sheer musicality is again strongly in evidence throughout this new offering, I'm glad to say, and the focus is as sharp as before. What I really like is the way the excellence of the musicianship isn't used merely to dazzle, but to allow the instrumental lines to breathe and be heard and the melodies be appreciated, at whatever speed of execution happens to be most appropriate (rather than a no-holds-barred session thrash). And - another bonus - the "rhythm section" never thuds across to obliterate the front line work (hear what I mean on track 5).
The band's repertoire of tunes appears inexhaustible, and continues to major on less-often-heard pieces in arrangements that constantly delight on each subsequent play for their flair and imagination and lack of predictability. Just sample the joyous opening set, where there's obviously a lot going on, although textures are kept light, and there's a distinct relish with which the individual band members dip in and out of the total soundscape. Oh, and we at last get the chance to experience singer Ciarán Ó Gealbhain's prowess on accordion (albeit on just one track). But I mustn't neglect the songs (six out of the 14 cuts), where Ciarán again proves himself exceptional (nay, getting on for unequalled) among vocalists in bands of this ilk. The songs embrace both the comparatively familiar - Johnnie Patterson's Bridget Donaghue and a superb version of Wee Lass On The Brae - and two fine songs sung in Gaelic (An Déirc and Idir Áird Mhór Is Eochaill, with great backing from Donnchadh Gough's uillean pipes); my only reservation on the entire album concerns Easy And Free (aka Jock Stewart), on which a magical guest contribution from Liam Clancy (trading verses with Ciarán) is compromised by an obtrusively over-reverberant recording that doesn't quite match Ciarán's own contribution acoustically. This minor aural blemish aside, though, it's another scintillating album from Danú.
David Kidman
Back in 2000, the Dappled Grays were lauded as "Atlanta's best bluegrass band", but things then went rather quiet and only now do I find they've produced a followup, albeit with a new approach and new personnel (tho' I'll bet they're still Atlanta's best bluegrass band! ). So what's changed? - the band's sound, tho' still identifiably bluegrass, is now dominated by superb young vocalist and fiddler Leah Calvert, the current lineup being completed by founder members Casey Cook (guitar) and Michael Smith (mandolin) with newer recruits Keith Morris (bass) and Greg Earnest (banjo) now firmly on board. What a team! Although the disc's eleven songs vary in provenance (two apiece by Michael and Casey alongside three by Malcolm Holcombe, one by Leah, one trad-arr, one by Gillian Welch and Jonathan Byrd's Young Slaver), there's such a strong unity in the band's approach that they all seem almost to spring from the same stock. Performance style is suitably slick, with some world-class picking and bowing, but this is given depth by some progressive nuances and abundantly solid vocal prowess - which is where Leah comes in, with her sincere and honest yet attractively light-textured delivery that straightway recalls Alison Krauss in particular (no criticism intended!). She brings a wonderful tenderness and delicacy to whatever she sings (those last two mentioned covers are especially fine in that respect), yet she's capable of much strength and fortitude when more intense power is required (as on Red Rockin' Chair). Leah's virtuoso fiddle playing is a great addition to the basic group sound, and I'd have liked a bit more focus on it at times maybe, whereas Greg's banjo work is notable for its melding of traditional playing styles with inventive melodic twists and turns, Michael's expert mando work is steeped in the tradition and the rhythm team of guitar and bass give the songs an infectious foot-tapping drive that's real hard to resist. The individual members' talent for composition is more than proven, although I was a tad unsure about Leah's cheeky swing-club-style Put You In My Pocket fitting in with the rest of the cuts at first. But as with so many (hey let's be honest: way too many!) bluegrass-based albums, this one's all over before you can say Earl Scruggs - another of those 30-something-minute wonders that fair makes you ask where did they put all that surplus energy once the recording session had ended!
David Kidman December 2007
Diana Darby - The Magdalene Laundries (Delmore Recording Society)
Just as with skinning a cat, there are many ways to record a memorable album.
You can produce a set of songs awash with lush harmonies, enough hooks to net a small school of fish and melodies that will revive the philosophy of whistle while you work single-handedly.
Or you can do as Diana Darby has done on The Magdalene Laundries and create magic from what appear to be the barest of ingredients.
If you wrote a list of what Diana Darby had actually used to make The Magdalene Laundries, it would be a very short list, guitar and voice are pretty much it. But what you can not write down is what you can't see, can't touch but you can most certainly hear and that's the sound of her soul. The opening track Skin is here and gone in the blink of eye, however in half a dozen lines and with a voice that is rough and raw, Diana Darby says more than most would achieve with an orchestra and a whole evening at their disposal.
As the Magdalene Laundries unfolds you realize that she is not singing or playing quietly simply for effect but becasue to do either any louder would simply crush the spirit of the songs underfoot.
Where at first, you find you're leaning forward to hear better, eventually you find you're doing it as reflex action as you become totally absorbed in each song's beauty.
This is not an album that is readily or easily understood, each track is its own labyrinthine poem, accompanied by the lightest touch of music. Words and music initially appear to be completely unrelated, however they soon wrap around each other, forming an unbreakable bond.
As Kierkegaard for one, arouses your interest and then your passion, there's no turning back on The Magdalene Laundries. It may be delicate but Diana Darby's music is possessed of a vice-like grip, there is an overwhelming need to find out what Diana Darby has come up with next.
Listening to The Magdalene Laundries is like being caught up in a surreal dream, as the experience moves on the sense of wonder increases. And, like a dream, you're never quite sure if anything is real or not but eventually the spell Diana Darby casts means it doesn't really matter.
Michael Mee
Fantasia Ball can be quite an uncomfortable listen. So candid and forthright is Diana Darby on her second album that you may feel you have been eavesdropping on an intensely private conversation. Her half sung-half whispered vocals are reminiscent of Hope Sandoval's in Mazzy Star and are mixed so that she seems to be in the room alongside you. Remarkably, the majority of these songs were improvised in a single take, direct to four-track cassette and such is the level of intimacy which Diana creates, that you feel she is in the room alongside you. Even the beautifully overdubbed cellos seem to intrude on the air of privacy which has been established. Along the way we are introduced to Caroline who, like a character from a Gabriel Garcia Marques novel, leaves a magical trail of roses in her wake. The subject of negative self-image is boldly tackled in Happy, (a deeper meditation on the theme than Kasey Chambers' 'Not Pretty Enough'), and My Own - a bold analysis of the mother-daughter relationship which begins with the couplet, "I feel your blood run through my veins, I pray to God we're not the same" and then heads for even darker waters. Ultimately, the result is a seductive and compelling 'after dark' album.
John Lonergan
The Dartmoor Pixie Band (inevitably!) are steeped in the music and dance traditions of their native Devon. The ensemble was originally formed over 35 years ago by the renowned late melodeon player Bob Cann, whose grandson Mark Bazeley (also a melodeon player, and kind-of band-member since age 10!) now proudly carries on the tradition in the company of long-standing members Rob Murch (five-string banjo) and Cyril May (drums), caller Sarah Bazeley and more recent recruits Jason Rice (piano accordion) and Ed Rennie (acoustic bass). The band hasn't brought out a record since a tape some 17 years ago, so this lineup is making its recorded debut! The sound the band makes is a distinctive one, which it might sound a cliché to describe as sprightly yet soft-textured, delightfully fleet-footed, like Pixies trippytoeing across the dance floor (as opposed to clodhopping trolls!). They play, and it would seem (not least on the evidence of the seven tracks on this CD that were recorded live) that folks down in Dartmoor dance, with a wonderful quality of jaunty delicacy that you don't always get at ceilidhs; having said which, there's evidently no lack of thrust or energy in either the band's playing or the dancers' movements. From a purely musical angle, the DPB have much going for them: its special instrumental complement is quite unusual, not least for the inclusion of Rob's banjo but also for the adoption of two different squeezeboxes playing in tandem (and well nigh inseparable from the sound of it!) throughout; against this defiant front-line backdrop, it takes someone with a very inventive approach to the drumkit to make it all sound good and inspire the feet, and Cyril's spirited playing, characterised by what's been called that driving "Devon rush", gets it just right. The band's repertoire, too, is quite individual, with reels, two-steps and polkas interspersed with gleeful "dance conversions" of familiar and popular country, New Orleans-jazz and gospel tunes - and it all works! It's delicious and infectious to listen to (that smile almost never leaves your face!), one reason for this no doubt being Sarah's special calling style (she even sings some of her directions!). Yet it can easily seem that the tune medleys tempt you to merge it all into one continuous ceilidh (if they don't tempt you to get up on your feet first!) - so I'll bet you too will be "motoring by the end" of the CD!
David Kidman February 2007
Bob Davenport - The Common Stone (Topic)
He may not get the same sort of popular acclaim as Martin Carthy, but Tynesider Davenport's done no less in keeping British folk music alive. At 71 this, his first album in six years, amply demonstrates his past and present significance and standing with guest appearances by Chumbawamba, Carthy, Richard Thompson (who bookends proceedings with his own tunes Davenport's Catwalk/Retreat),. John Tams, Norma and Mike Waterson and Linda Thompson who provides the spoken track Trust No Man, taken from a Celtic Miscellany.
Much sung a capella, the material's nothing if not wide ranging, embracing as it does numbers as diverse as Song of the Other Ranks set to a tune by Prokofiev, Blake's Jerusalem, The Wild Rover, Alabama Song, You Are My Sunshine, Thomas Hardy's The Colour, trad folk evergreens She Moved Through The Fair and The Cuckoo and the McGarrigles' Heart Like A Wheel.
War and its effects provide the bulk of the album's concerns. While penned in 1782 in protest at the war against America The Drum still resonates today, Those Men We See is bitter tale of the WWI battlefield firing squads for 'cowards', The Summertime Is Come Again is Harry Lauder's lament for his son killed during WWI, You Came Back Home Down That Long Road (Linda T on vocals) ironically reminds that not all who went off to fight found their sweethearts waiting on their return while the Sergeant's Returned treats on the scars brought back home from battle and. Underlining Davenport's continued radical relevance, Police Patrol sounds a timely note of concern for the insidious loss of democracy in the name of protecting the state.
Mike Davies
As performers, Paul and Liz may not have a wide profile outside of their South Yorkshire stamping-ground (although they've played an active part in folk education and development for many years), but as singers they're blessed with singular, sturdy and confident voices; they also possess a strong awareness of their role as song-carriers, being both steeped in the tradition and well versed in contemporary songwriting within the tradition. This is their second disc of "songs which (they) love to sing", and (I'm glad to note) the well shows no signs of running dry. It's a super collection, whose ambit covers sensibly economic versions of six Child ballads (including The Demon Lover and The Unquiet Grave), intelligently-researched variants of other traditional material (Died For Love, Stormy Winds, Down In Yon Forest), a pair of recently-penned songs drawing heavily on the tradition (The Guist Ploughman, by Damien Barber's father Mike, and Dave Dodds' majestic, if sinister incantation The Magpie), and The Next To Die, Captain Darling's glorious piece of gung-ho Victorian melodrama from the time of the Indian Mutiny. Paul also contributes three of his own intriguing creations: The House That Jack Built concerns the "nearly-true story" of "a ship that ran ashore and disappeared overnight", while The Sands Of Dee is a captivating setting of a grim Charles Kingsley poem and The Mermaid is Paul's inventive conglomeration of a Child Ballad and two Mediterranean myths. The (relatively modern) ballad of Grace Darling, though credited as traditional, sounds for all the world like a music-hall number (I can definitely visualise the bouncing-ball!). Here, as with everything they tackle, Paul and Liz launch into the singing with gusto and a keen sense of the inherent drama of the songs; indeed, the duo's fine unison rendition of Barbary Ellen is but one of many instances that mind me to revise my previous comment (when reviewing their first CD) regarding the limited expressive possibilities of unison delivery. (They might perhaps have made more capital out of The Magpie, which is taken a mite too briskly I feel, but this is a minor matter and only really apparent when comparing this version with, say, those of Young No More or its composer.) On a third of the songs, the couple's son Gavin contributes to the already impressively-together family "melting-pot" with some spectrally close and responsive vocalising that veers almost wilfully between harmony and unison, often during the course of a single song and to quite eerie effect. Paul and Liz also allocate themselves two solo tracks apiece, the pick of these being Paul's startlingly original, dark and bleak treatment of Lucy Wan (with his own almost improvisatory guitar accompaniment that's tinted with both raga and flamenco). The latter and The Mermaid aside, the only instrumental backing on the entire CD is some jaunty melodeon from Gavin's Crucible colleague Richard Arrowsmith, who also joins in the chorus on Pass The Good Old Bumper Round (this rousing song, sometimes known as the Padstow Drinking Song, forms the disc's finale, although logically it might've made a better starter). Recording's excellent, booklet notes are fine: an honest and most attractive release of some splendid – and fascinating – repertoire.
David Kidman April 2008
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
Two CDs of what one might call "crossover Celtic" music here, but quite different both in character and impact. The Brendan Voyage is regarded in Ireland as a groundbreaking work of cultural significance; dating from 1980, it was Shaun's first essay in bringing together a solo uilleann piper and a classical symphony orchestra. Programmatically, it depicts the voyage of explorer Tim Severin across the Atlantic in a replica medieval leather boat, whose "voice" is represented by the pipes (and the sea by the orchestra). Liam O'Flynn is again the expert soloist, and the whole work, which is cast in the form of a ten-"movement" suite lasting just over 40 minutes, proves immensely satisfying - especially considering the usual high failure-rate for crossover compositions with such pretensions - for Shaun has always had an acute ear for texture and balance and a keen feel for musical structure. Inevitably there are echoes of "sea-music" from the classical tradition and beyond (Mendelssohn and Beethoven through to Sibelius, Bax and Britten), and passages where "rock" drumming is a slightly awkward contrivance, but this is still a very credible composition and to a considerable extent deserving of its legendary status.
The second disc mentioned is the première CD issue for all of the music composed by Shaun (in collaboration with percussionist Noel Eccles) for the opening ceremony of the Special Olympics World Summer Games in Dublin in 2003 (the title anthem topped the Irish charts for five or six weeks, apparently). Featuring noted Celtic soloists, including Liam O'Flynn, Nollaig Casey, Seamus and Breanndan Begley, Rita Connolly and the Voice Squad, together with members of six Dublin choirs, pipe band and the RTÉ National Symphony Orchestra, it's music of spectacular scale and breadth which nevertheless manages some beautifully intimate moments in the midst of all the pomp. It's a life-affirming celebration, if a little over-grandiose at times, yet it can't fail to make an impact! With some of the pieces included on the disc, though, like those for pipes and orchestra with percussion and choir that were written for Shaun's dramatic concert work The Pilgrim, it's not entirely clear whether they were intended as part of the music for the ceremony or not; some further clarification is needed, I feel.
www.taramusic.com
www.shaundavey.com
David Kidman
After I pronounced self-professed "more or less hobo" singer/songwriter Ethan's fourth album, Don Quixote De Suburbia, a "distinctly maverick, furiously eclectic set", along comes another stunning album from the man that, although sounding almost completely different, could also be accurately described in exactly the same terms! Taking as inspiration the Woody Guthrie axiom "Life has got a habit of not standing hitched. You got to ride it like you find it", there's all that typical restlessness in Ethan's work, a rootlessness that proudly refuses to chain itself to any one musical style, for settling down is not a concept in Ethan's personal vocabulary; travelling the world with guitar in hand in the best troubadour tradition, he translates into song the stories of the people he meets. Yet when he gets it together in the studio with his friends, the result is a fully formed product, a fully frontal political attack, yet musically speaking it's all expertly and eloquently arranged. His music jumps around from mood to mood, like leaping in and out of boxcars and stepping out into situations as he finds them, confronting them then moving on unpredictably yet with an almost inexplicable true sense of purpose. More so than on the Don Quixote album, each of the 14 songs on Ethan's latest is a direct (in the sense of unsubtle) political statement, whether those politics concern the state or a relationship; he uses his songs as a vehicle for his outrage at legal or social injustice, yet without coming across as self-righteous. This time round, the 14 tracks even include a cover version, a spit-in-yer-face dirty fuzz-punk thrash through John Prine's vitriolic take on the American status quo Your Flag Decal Won't Get You Into Heaven Anymore. Ethan's vision is a compelling one, if often seeming somewhat warped, and this is borne out by his twisted way with his musical inspirations - just check out Carry Me Back To San Juan Hill (a weird cinematic-western take on the old shanty tune Santianna), or the Zeppelinesque bombast of Situationist (Non) National Commercial, or the bleak and strange Semi-Literate Cowboy Poem, for starters. But do check out Ethan's lyrics too - they're every bit as literate in their own way as his shameless encompassing of those musical influences. Five is another tremendously satisfying release from Ethan, who I bet is already out there on the roads and rails a-gatherin' more stories for album number six!
David Kidman
David Kidman
There's an article on the Kinks in this month's Uncut which asks the question: 'Did the Kinks invent heavy metal?'. That may be pushing it a bit, however if you want to know where a host of artists including Ian Dury and Blur got their ideas from, you could do worse than listen to Dave Davies' latest CD Bug.
Davies always seemed to be the 'other one', somehow living in the shadow of his brother Ray. While Ray was urbane and literary Dave was cast in the role of the slightly edgier and darker force in The Kinks.
Thankfully Bug proves that he has not lost the wil, or drive, to produce great rock n roll. His solo releases may be rare but they're worth the wait. Who's Foolin Who may be a slightly sardonic nod in the direction of a band many consider to have stolen the Kinks clothes. But Bug is no exercise in bitter retrospection it's a masterclass, showing just why we ruled the airwaves in the 60s. Be warned though, apart from Life After Life - which is not the album's strongest song - there is little evidence of modern music this is how rock music used to be.
What Bug does is show just how vital Dave Davies was to creating the sound both of the Kinks in particular and British music in general. He also provides the reason why the 'heavy metal' question was asked and after listening to Bug the answer is, maybe. There's also a little moment for Kinks fans with the track Fortis Green, which mentions the Clissold Arms which is where it all began.
Michael Mee
It's taken him over 40 years to get round to a solo album proper and he's spent a decade doing it, its release delayed by the minor hiccup of being robbed and shot in New Orleans. So, does it do justice to one of the most influential songwriters in the history of rock music? Well, in parts. As you'd expect it's witty, sardonic, and, despite heading into Memphis soul and Dylan inflections territory with Run Away From Time, very English, tossing off lines like "Is there life after breakfast?" , "cheer up son, put the kettle on" and telling how Mr Brown "ran off with an Essex blonde" on the mid-tempo jaunty strumalong Next Door Neighbour.
As you might expect from his advancing years, there's a tendency to view contemporary culture through jaundiced eyes, most notably on the Ian Dury-like talk-sing Stand Up Comic's contempt for dumbing down yobbism that passes for today's wit, while both the country-inflected The Getaway and the sultry moodiness of The Tourist's musings on travel find him seeking escape from the humdrum and disillusioned with the flash nature of his countrymen abroad.
There is not, though, anything here of the same pedigree as Waterloo Sunset, Dead End Street or the underrated Don't Forget To Dance and you'd not imagine fishing this out in forty years time and finding it still fresh and pertinent and you have to lament the fact that the man who wrote something as sharp as Dedicated Follower Of Fashion now feels the need to pen lines like "now the clown does a fart and we all fart back . . . and that's that." But, when it shines, as it does on Creatures of Little Faith's tale of domestic strife or the 11 minute Over My Head with its wah wah guitar, organ soul, reggae hints, folk-rock and stadium baiting flourishes, then it stays with you all day, and all of the night.
Mike Davies, February 2006
Ray Davies @ Fairfield - March 1st 2001
The hair may be shorter, the threads not quite as cutting edge and the face a little more lined but Ray Davies still has the stage craft and the voice that made The Kinks the great band they were. He played Fairfield as part of his Storyteller tour and the gig lived up to its "unplugged and unmissable" billing, pleasing a hall full of fans, many of whom had grown up to the Davies soundtrack.
Hung loosely on the style of his Davies Diaries radio series, the show sees him backed by only his own guitar and that of pal Pete Matteson. The erstwhile dedicated follower of fashion wove his magic for more than two hours with an irresistible mix of anecdotes - a few sad, most humorous - and some of the best pop songs ever written. Although stripped down to the two-guitar format gems such as Set Me Free, Autumn Almanac, Days, See My Friends, Tired of Waiting, You Really Got Me and, of course, Lola, proved they don't need a more elaborate setting.
He did not, however, merely reel off a string of Top Thirty hits; a handful of more obscure Kinks klassiks found their way into the set, including Powerman, Village Green, 20th Century Man and The Money-Go-Round.
And neither was it all nostalgia, as several new Davies compositions were sprinkled among the jewels, notably London which he prefaced with the tale of how, as a child in Muswell Hill, he would look down on the big city, Soho in particular: "I dreamed of going there but, at only three, my parents wouldn't let me."
All too soon it was time for the final number and what better way to end than with a true London song, Waterloo Sunset? That pleased the punters and they were even more pleased when Davies and Matteson returned to the stage for a storming You Really Got Me for an encore. Great stuff.
As the final crashing chord faded and the pair walked off, crowds thronged the stage to shake the hand that wrote all those songs and to show that he'll forever have a place in their hearts.
Fred Hall
The Storyteller by Ray Davies (1998) is available on EMI.
Defiantly "northern", yes, but certainly not trash. Roger's a West Yorkshire (Brighouse-born) singer-songwriter who engages your attention straight away with his easy, unassuming, captivatingly relaxed performing style and his knack for finding musical poetry in purely local places, stories and references. (It's been said that if anyone can make Huddersfield seem beautiful, then it's Roger!) But the glory is that you don't feel that it's exclusive or cliquey - no, Roger is genuinely welcoming you to his world, of which he's equally genuinely proud. He draws you in straightaway with his plain, touching, wry observations: there's a total lack of pretension in his writing which is refreshing, as he addresses things that matter to us all: small details in the bigger scheme of things they may be, but they mean the world to the likes of Roger and us. Roger writes with evident affection about living in his native county, and this quality colours his perception of life in general. He's one of the good guys, and he makes you feel good about being alive and able to appreciate simple pleasures. The gentle romance of The Way You Love Me and Harmony are good examples of Roger's craft, which is informed by the espousal of solid traditional songwriting values (Old Fashioned Man forms a kind of mission statement, I guess!). Roger has a real gift for easy-flowing melody and an enviable economy of expression: in these respects, songs such as Bradford Girl and Harmony put me in mind of Clive Gregson. Only once did I feel that wordiness got the better of Roger, in the extended litany of pub names that takes up the final minutes of Beer Belly Blues. But generally, while you're listening to Roger's songs, you don't notice the craft in the economy; the lines seem to come out so naturally, conversationally, and the phrases seem curiously - well, obvious, but just you try to write something similar and you'll realise how difficult it is! Finally, Roger's own guitar accompaniments are unflashy but actually highly adept, with a real art to their very unobtrusiveness. Do try Roger's music - I'm sure you'll find him utterly charming, entertaining and accessible.
David Kidman November 2007
Brighouse's answer to Martyn Joseph (their voices even sound similar), this is Snow Patrol mate Davies's debut album after paying his dues as an art student in Dundee and Chicago, playing student union bars. In 2004 he headed off to the Brighton Institute of Modern Music where he came to the notice of former Sleeper guitarist Jon Stewart and Chris Difford. Not that either of them have anything to do with the album which is simply Davies on guitar, percussion and harmonica with Simon Shaw playing bass and synth. There's no producer credit, but then maybe that's because it sounds like all they did was set up a microphone and run the tape.
Thankfully his voice and songs make up for any deficiencies elsewhere. The songs run a familiar gamut of everyman themes - growing up, leaving home with a bagful of dreams, going back chastened, making a living, the blessings of a good woman who gets you through the bad times, and how he's always going to be true - but he invests these with a simple organic honesty that keeps them from becoming cliches. Given his origins, it is though surprising to find so little social comment.
Musically we're talking acoustic folk with occasional hints of blues and while there's nothing here that's going to find him elevated into next big contemporary singer-songwriter thing the likes of James Dean, Hangin' Around, Littletown and All This Time should ensure a healthy following around the clubs. And, stay until the end and a live hidden track, Cold Black Heart, will convince you he's worth the travelling.
Mike Davies
Boo Boo Davis is a true Delta bluesman and one of the last of his generation. A poor childhood meant he couldn't learn to read or write not that has not kept him down.
His latest album for Dutch based Black & Tan opens with Dirty Dog which is, as you would expect from the title, a grungy blues. The pounding beat from drummer John Gerritse is a sign of things to come. I'm Coming Home is even more grungy than the opener. It's done in a John Lee Hooker style with a fuzzed vocal and added harp from Davis. This highlights how powerful Boo Boo is as a singer. There is some good advice on Stay Away From The Casino and he starts to funk things up a little with some pace also injected. However, the repetition made me take a little time to warm to it. Want Nobody Tell Me How To Live My Life is a more straightforward harmonica and guitar blues and Boo Boo finds a groove on Tryin To Get Ahead. The Chicago blues of the eponymous title track has a prominent harmonica and a beefy vocal.
Who Stole The Booty is a contemporary blues with overcharged guitar and harp. Believe me, this riff will work its way right into your brain. Why You Wanna Do It is more of a soft rock song and although slightly out of kilter with the rest of the album, it does have a very good vocal. Lonely All By Myself is a slow Chicago blues and more than meets the standard with its deep pulsating bass line, even though he doesn't use a bass player! It's A Shame is an upbeat blues with harp to the fore. I just love the energy! Throbbing drums herald I'm So Tired and when the world weary guitar and spoken intro join in then we have a song on our hands. It's conducted at walking pace throughout and Davis produces one of his best vocals. Hot Foot is a funky grinder and he closes with St Louis Woman, loosely played in the St Louis style. He seems to like the fuzz effect on his vocal and he could be accused of using it too much. Nevertheless, this is a great finish to a top class album.
David Blue September 2008
Each successive album by this consummate bluesman brings another sizzlin', cookin' selection of tracks; this new one intersperses eleven of Guy's original compositions with a smaller-than-usual sprinkling of acknowledged blues standards. There's only three of the latter this time round, but they're pretty noteworthy, especially the lazy simmerin' eight-minute workout Guy gives Goin' Down Slow (which he believes "just about the finest blues song ever written" - and in a performance like this you'll believe it too!). Po' Boy is given a fresh (if gritty!) lick of paint just when you thought you'd heard the last word on it, and Tommy Johnson's Maggie Campbell Blues gets a welcome revival in a drivin' Charlie Patton style. Like all of Guy's previous offerings, Skunkmello has the feel of a classic album from the first playthrough - it flows naturally, and it also compels, holds your attention all the way through, even down to the most disposable (bonus) cut, a kinda reprise of the opening rapping cut on 2004's Legacy (Uncle Tom Is Dead), here termed a "milk'n'cookies" remix even tho' the "offending" words haven't been altered! Guy's new compositions here retain that timeless feel that characterises all his work, and seem effortlessly constructed. And deliciously sung - hey, you can just taste that "chocolate man"!... The indigenous idioms Guy so easily embraces, assimilates and incorporates on his travels are once again as wide-ranging as the blues itself, taking in the good-time jugband of Natural Born Eas' Man, oldtimey clawhammer banjo on Shaky Pudding and Blackberry Ramble, and even some wild arm-flapping chicken-dance back-country (for it's a famous chicken thief that gives the album its title!). Guy's masterly backing crew for Skunkmello is a somewhat larger unit than last time round, and comprises Walt Michael, Mark Naftalin, Nerak Roth Patterson, John Platania, Mark Murphy and Gary Burke alongside familiar face T-Bone Wolk ("his breath smells like music"!), together producing a gutsy acoustic band sound with a supreme lightness of touch and texture that provides the perfect foil for Guy's dark soulful tones. By the way, Guy's got an all-too-brief UK tourette coming up, so check out his website for dates.
David Kidman, June 2006
Guy Davis - Legacy (Red House)
I think Legacy is Guy's seventh Red House release now (OK, so Stomp Down Rider was just a kinda repackage of his self-released live set, but who's countin'?) – and inexplicably I missed out on Chocolate To The Bone last year…. Anyway, I digress – here on Legacy Guy continues his lifelong journey through the blues in his own inimitable fashion, presenting a tasty mix of originals and standards that simultaneously explore right back to his acoustic blues roots and cast an ironic eye over current trends in music. Guy chooses to kick off the CD with a fun example of the latter, in fact– Uncle Tom Is Dead takes the form of a wicked little rap exchange between Guy and his teenage son Martial. And on the blues standards, yet again Guy has the knack of turning in what must be among the best of the recorded versions of many of these – and over a broad canvas of styles too, with economic yet telling backing from a very select crew (of mostly just two – Mark Murphy and T-Bone Wolk) to complement Guy's own guitar, mandolin, banjo and harmonica. There's soulfulness, spiritual commitment, feeling aplenty in the gentle stompin' of Guy's reinterpretations of these classic blues songs, and he's entirely at home with the various idioms of the blues stretching from deep southern country to gospel and worksong. At home and therefore comfortable yes, and fairly laid-back, sure, lazy in just the right way – i.e., nothing in the slightest soporific or couldn't-care-less about Guy's committed performances. The gritty drive of Drop Down Mama, the understated energy of Hikin' Jerry, the primitive backwoods charm of Henry Thomas's Run Molly Run, the lonesome stretch-out over Nehemiah James's Cypress Grove, the ever-so-slightly Tex-Mex lope of See See Rider – all these are superlative interpretations, on which a small handful of Guy's own compositions like the delicious, seriously soulful I Just Can't Help Loving You set a powerful seal and round out the album to provide an unparalleled portrait of the compleat bluesman-storyteller that is Guy. This is the real deal, sure 'nuff.
David Kidman
Jeff's one of the most charismatic and widely-regarded of American oldtime-folk revival performers, possessing that maddeningly enviable trait of being master of several different instruments (on this disc we hear just banjo, fiddle, mandocello and guitar) as well being a darned fine singer, a man of wholly unpretentious and completely natural musicianship who all the while makes everything he does seem totally effortless. (Bit like Bruce Molsky in that respect!...) Jeff's pedigree is long and distinguished: he worked in a duo partnership with Jeff Warner for many years, while more recently he contributed two excellent tracks to Martyn Wyndham-Read's Songlinks 2 project back in 2005. And yet this solo CD has been a long time a-comin' - tho' it sure is worth the wait! It's a healthy mix of songs and tunes taken from the tradition, originating from all over the States and notably including examples from the Frank Warner collection; and yet Jeff readily admits he's no purist, and goes about adapting his material with considerable ingenuity and a thoroughly infectious excitement. Basically, the tradition's in his blood, as is the rare ability to communicate its music with a keen sense of discovery, that eagerness to share a new song or tune with his listeners. Although it was Frank Warner whose singing of Tom Dooley "in the old style of the old singers" formed Jeff's original "Damascus" experience and Frank has subsequently proved an all-pervasive influence on Jeff's own music-making, everything Jeff does seems also to be infused with an evangelical zeal, much in the spirit of Alan Lomax and his collecting activity you might say. (Jeff's intriguing performance of Beulah Land on this CD is a kind of homage to Lomax, even attempting to loosely re-create a noted Lomax recording from his Southern Journey, which was itself an intended re-creation of the sound of a slave-era African-American band...) This enthusiasm extends from Jeff's own performing style (both timeless and evocative in the very truest manner) into his way of penning liner notes (those for this particular CD are, significantly, brilliantly well-researched, erudite and copious almost to the point of telling us way more than we might wish to know - tho' hey, I've not got a problem with that!); it's no exaggeration to say that Jeff's understanding and knowledge of this repertoire is second to none. His own instrumental versatility (along with an entirely apposite, and selective, choice of just four guest musicians, principally the redoubtable Brian Peters) enables him to ring the changes with a different complement and sound on virtually every track, and there's no shortage of marvellous attention to detail within the sparse but telling arrangements he employs. The material itself cuts across all borders and ranges unashamedly right across the tradition, from straight folk tales (The Bold Privateer) and epic historical ballads (Cumberland And The Merrimac), to quirky obscurities like Felix The Soldier and cowboy songs, via a powerful piece of reportage (Libby Prison, one of two songs here that Jeff sings unaccompanied); there's also a couple of instrumental tracks providing good ol' down-home fun with great technique but no need of being showy. Even the most ostensibly well-worn of the songs (like Wild Bill Jones and Shortening Bread) emerge from the Jeff Davis stable fresh as new paint (as indeed does Old Paint here!). Adieu My Lovely Nancy is a particular success, taking as its primary source the Bertha Lauderdale version rather than the more usual Copper Family one and benefiting from the unusual combination of mandocello and anglo-concertina for accompaniment. In Jeff's talented hands, the music of his (our) heritage is so vividly brought to life: the land of deep tradition is some fabulous yonder, indeed, and a grand place to visit.
David Kidman January 2008
Glasgow-based "songwriters' songwriter" Ian is a veteran performer in, and organiser of, countless Lowland folk clubs, and winner of as many songwriting competitions! And he doesn't believe in doing things by halves - for here's a three-disc set containing no fewer than 52 of his own compositions, ostensibly a sequel to the two-disc Volume 1 (which appeared in 2001 and contained 30 songs covering the period from 1992 to 2000). Getting the gripe out of the way first, the set comes with virtually no documentation beyond a straight track-listing on the rear box and a list of personnel credits inserted into the box itself, so we know nothing of the provenance or background to any of the songs, which is a missed opportunity. And neither does Ian's website provide any information beyond the actual lyrics - shame. Now given the sheer prolific nature of this man, I can't claim, and therefore wouldn't even try to pretend, that every one of Ian's songs is magic - some leave me a bit cold, and others don't quite seem to hit the mark, but each and every one is well-crafted, that's for sure, and the ratio of hits to misses is more than healthy. There are one or two that put me in mind of Eric Bogle, others perhaps of Robin Laing or Allan Taylor, others of Matt McGinn or the less scurrilous side of Billy Connolly; but they're all imbued with the hallmarks of Ian's own personality - a generous spirit, a gentle humanity, an abundantly genial (sometimes quite dry) sense of humour, with on some songs an evocative wistfulness, others a sense of local pride and a strong flavour of the "Glesca' Patter". Musically speaking, Ian's songs are couched in a tasteful and listener-friendly idiom, taking in a variety of folky moods and styles and encompassing a wide range of subjects, while Ian's also unafraid of adopting existing traditional tunes occasionally (as on To Get To You, All My Mind, Left It Ringin' and She's The One) to good effect. Elsewhere, hints of the lighter side of traditional sit alongside rock-a-boogie, all communicated to the listener in an attractive and unashamedly accessible manner that wins you over in much the same way as Anthony John Clarke. Ian employs around ten musicians in various combinations to help bring his songs alive, and the textures are efficiently managed although a slight dated air of blandness sets in on the tracks where synthy keyboard work is involved. The songs on these three well-filled discs surely point to the fact that Ian's work is worth investigating. And when Ian comes up with a real gem you sure know it (Dark Streets, Magic, Absence, Clydebank Blitz are ones that readily spring to mind).
David Kidman
Steve and Helen have for many years been stalwart supporters of Ron's excellent club at the Sun in Stockton, and their sturdy, reliable performances of all kinds of songs have become an eagerly-awaited feature of any evening there. And though each is a really fine solo singer, their individual voices prove highly complementary. Typically, they're very modest, almost to the point of being reticent about any self-publicity - but as is often the case, those who shout least loudest actually have more to say and are more worth listening to! This CD is Steve & Helen's fourth release as a duo, and it's an enterprising maritime-themed collection which runs the gamut of familiar and unfamiliar, rousing and reflective - all given the sterling Dawes and Pitt treatment, with plenty of upfront presence and 150% commitment. A supreme strength and confidence abound, both in the solo work and the well-considered harmonies, and the duo's renditions of repertoire classics like Tom's Gone To Hilo, Banks Of Claudy, The Drowned Lovers and Boston Harbour could well be considered among the best available – Steve and Helen always seem to be able to find something distinctive and fresh in the otherwise well-trodden.
But another of their strengths has always been the unearthing of some excellent songs not otherwise widely sung, and then creating their own definitive renditions. At least six of the sixteen songs here come into that category, and I'll bet you'll not have encountered most of them before (I hadn't); pick of the bunch must be the incredibly evocative Road To Drumleman (one of those tracks where Helen's lovingly moulded phrasing is almost too beautiful!), Bob Conroy's Safe At Snug Harbor and the wry Graham Penny returning-sailor song Channels. I also welcome the prominence Steve and Helen give to some of those undersung but very talented songwriters and song adapters with which the north-east folk scene is well blessed: Joy Rennie's fine setting of Cicely Fox Smith's A Dog's Life being a case in point, as for that matter is Helen's own Frobisher's Dream, which inventively utilises (paraphrases) the tune and basic framework of Willow Day.
My own favourites, though, are Never Turn Back (named after the watchword of the men of the Caister lifeboat crew), and Bobby Tulloch's Hunted On The Hillside, a portrayal of the cruelty visited on communities in the past by the press-gangs; the latter track closes the disc and I'm convinced it has a built-in repeat-button command!... Two-thirds of the songs are performed with accompaniment: mostly Steve's guitar, with Helen's English concertina on several and occasional extra enhancement from whistle, harmonica or accordion. Well-judged and highly competent though their instrumental contributions are, I'll always rate Steve and Helen most for the strength and great character of their acappella work, of which this disc contains plenty of examples to rejoice in. If I must nitpick, well just occasionally there's a sense of mild over-deliberation in delivery (rather than pace) which may be due to a laudable desire to make each word and line count; this can result in a sense of slight stiltedness (Lester Simpson's Polly On The Shore suffers a little in this regard – it comes across better live), and there are one or two instances where Steve appears to rush at the start of a line, almost in a surfeit of enthusiasm (but who can blame him?!); also, maybe Steve's voice is a tad too close/forwardly mixed on a couple of songs where he takes the lead. But these are such incredibly minor points in the context of a disc which has so very much to recommend it. Anyone looking for an exceptionally well-planned and well-performed disc of interesting and rewarding maritime songs will certainly not be disappointed.
David Kidman 2007
A guy singing women's songs, and wearing a kilt to boot! This ain't just any ordinary guy though, this is Julian Dawson, that unassumingly versatile interpreter of song. Having already recorded two "women's songs" on his 1997 album Move Over Darling (that famous Doris Day warhorse along with Aretha Franklin's All The King's Horses), Julian then had the brainwave that a whole album of women's songs might prove a fruitful pursuit, and Nothing Like A Dame is the end-product. And it proves to have been a really good idea, one of the most persuasive albums of covers I've heard for a while in fact. As well as containing two bonus tracks in the shape of new recordings of those aforementioned songs (recorded in New York last year, with guests Richard Thompson and The Roches, Dan Penn and Steuart Smith, no less), Julian, with just his guitar/s (or banjo on one occasion) for accompaniment, essays a wide cross-section (OK, so I was tempted to say "cross-dress") of "women's songs" here. Inevitably there's one or two that might qualify as torch-songs, sure (like Dusty Springfield's You Don't Have To Say You Love Me, which is done as a bluesy slouch, and the Penn/Oldham standard A Woman Left Lonely), which (perhaps perversely?) gain an entirely non-misplaced extra level of credibility through being sung by a man. Then at what one might term the novelty end of the market there's Nancy Sinatra's Sugartown and Reperata & The Delrons' Captain Of Your Ship); then again, I didn't expect Petula Clark's Don't Sleep In The Subway to work, but Julian manages to persuade me that the song has a life beyond the 60s nostalgia market... Yes, Julian's choices are unusual and often highly intriguing, it turns out, with songs you don't tend to hear a lot anyway, or at any rate sung by anyone at all other than the original artists or writers. The main exception is the variant of the traditional folksong Whitsun Dance, which Julian got from the singing of Shirley Collins but it's probably more familiar in the version by Tim Hart & Maddy Prior and it features in the repertoire of many other singers too; Julian sings this one really well, to a slightly Carthy-inspired accompaniment, and it leaves me wondering whether he might like to consider a whole album of traditional song (please)?... I also really liked Julian's deft take on Dolly Parton's A Gamble Either Way (not one of her better-known songs, but a good 'un!), his tender version of Joni Mitchell's The Gallery and his knowing interpretation of the Roches' classic The Married Men, while his acappella rendition of Bedtime Story (one of two Tammy Wynette numbers) is quite charming. Overall, this is a classy, thoughtful and in the end very satisfying set.
David Kidman June 2007
Julian Dawson with Gene Parsons - Hillbilly Zen (Fledg'ling)
For his fifteenth album, London born Dawson, sometime member of Plainsong and UK roots circuit fixture, hooked up with the former Byrd having renewed their acquaintance at a folk music conference. Suggesting Parsons might care to bring his one-man ochestra talents to bear on a shared album, the pair holed up in California, Dawson with his guitar, Parsons with banjo, pedal steel, mandolin, drums, bass, Stringbender, spoons and much more, including wife Meridian Green's harmony vocals.
All the songs are Dawson's, either partly or wholly (Freedom Of The Highway resurfacing after being lost on the third Germany only Plainsong album) and range from guitar picking rag blues (Don't Just Do Something [Sit Here Son]) and banjo bluegrass (Banjo Song, what else, four of them) to soul (To Hold You Again), country (A Man Never Wanted A Woman So Much), and rockabilly (Hillbillies on Pills) rounding off with the lazy hula swing of What Kind of Change. Not life changing stuff maybe, but the fun they had making it certainly spills out to brighten the day while you listen.
Mike Davies
Kimya Dawson - I'm Sorry That Sometimes I'm Mean (Rough Trade)
Taking its cue from the no fi acoustic style and deadpan lyrics of Jonathan Richman, the acoustic anti-folk movement has become something of a New York underground cult, spawning a loose collective of artists who regularly share a tour bus or a coffee bar. Most high profile pioneers of the scene have been The Moldy Peaches, and co-founder Dawson fetches up here with the countrified flavours of the first of three planned solo albums, recorded rough and ready in her bedroom on a four track, packed with simple songs and straightforward sentiments. Basic guitar strums and her whispery voice lay the emotions bare on a collection of childlike songs of (mostly) childhood that talk of loneliness (Everything's Alright), misfits (Rocks With Holes), pre-pubescent gawkyness (Eleventeen), bedtime sleepy heads (Sleep), times and experiences past (Reminders of Then) and, on the fragile splinters of Hold My Hand, child abuse. And if there isn't such a thing as nursery rhyme gothic, then the wonderful Wandering Daughter has surely invented it.
www.antifolk.homestead.com/KimyaDawson
Mike Davies
Anyone who has even the most fleeting affection for their wonderful harmonies, will find it impossible to listen to Steve Dawson's solo album Sweet Is The Anchor without thinking of the wonderful Dolly Varden.
That thought lasts for all of 10 seconds of the opening track, suitably called Temporary, after that Steve Dawson takes full ownership of the album and never lets go.
Even when his Dolly Varden partner Diane Christiansen guests on Ten Thousand Pounds and the title track, there is not the slightest suspicion that Dawson feels the need of group comfort. In fact none of the songs on Sweet Is The Anchor could be improved upon by being given the band makeover.But it is trademark Steve Dawson, he is the consummate soft rocker. Dawson is well respected both as a writer and singer and he has a solid CV behind him but Sweet Is The Anchor is surprisingly revealing.
Reignite for one reveals him to be a master songbuilder as well, it builds layer upon layer and as it grows and stretches in the middle of it all is the hugely impressive Dawson, testing his talents to their limit.
While Steve Dawson either as a wrier, singer or stager performer will never be a screamer or shouter, Sweet Is The Anchor is proof positive that he is one of Americana's most intelligent, incisive and just plain best musicians, with or without a band.
Michael Mee, January 2006
Stephen Dawson - Demos For Dolly (Self-produced)
CDs bearing the words, rarities, demos and unreleased, should also have the title 'abandon hope all ye who enter here' attached. After all I drive a car but I don't want to see it being made, or drive the one that was rejected. It's the finished product I want.
And that's what you get here, only it's a different finished product. The 15 songs on 'Demos For Dolly' are fully formed and stand on their own merits. For anyone who doesn't know, Stephen Dawson is one half of the Dawson/Christiansen axis around which Chicago's Dolly Varden revolves. He is also the band's songwriter and these are his songs.
What helps immeasurably with 'Demos For Dolly' are the comprehensive sleeve notes, each track has a potted history, charting it's birth and development, all that appears to be missing is who it's first date is going to be. There is no better example of their contribution than the opening track Times Beach Theme. Originally written for a 1994 documentary about a town sufering the effects of dioxin spraying, in thatcontext it's haunting and evocative. However when you learn that the filmmaker subsequently died of cancer, believed to have been caused by filming in the town, it takes on a whole new and bottomless meaning.
Originally a shows-only release, this is undoubtedly aimed at fans and the part of the fun is just how different some established Dolly Varden songs are when left to the tender mercies of their creator, (step forward Dr Dawsonstein). But I have to admit that my first impression of some of them was that something's missing without Diane Christiansen.
But, after that initial shock, Forgiven Now and The Dumbest Magnets take on a whole new perspective. Even the most 'Dolly Varden' of all songs, The Thing You Love Is Killing You is a new song. Wonderfully sparse and bare, the meaning of the song is clear. What i'd always thoughtof as a woman's song will never be quite the same again.
Dawson shows a vulnerability and depth of feeling which isn't always apparent when he's with the band. Here he's not the rock on which all else is built, he's on his own emotionally as well as literally.
There is a real suprise in store for those familiar with Dolly Varden with the hitherto unreleased No Money, No Level Ground. Dawson will never be a mean rock 'n' roller but this is a song with dirt under its fingernails and a burning passion in its heart. It also shows another level of Dawson the songwriter, we know he can write a love song now he's revealed a social awareness.
Alongside those 'better known' numbers, sit some 'unknowns' (that's what you call them when they are this good). plus a couple of songs that were originally played by Dawson's previous band Stump The Host.All in all it's a comprehensive examination of Dawson's talent.
The only flaw on 'Demos for Dolly' is that title, these aren't recordings that point the way to better things, they are the portfolio of a great writer. Wisely Stephen Dawson has made 'Demos For Dolly' available through the band's website.
Michael Mee
I wouldn't have thought it possible for Stephen Dawson and Diane Christiansen - in essence Dolly Varden - to strip their songs back any further and yet still extract more. On Duets they have acheived the musical equivalent of a capitalist's dream, more from less. As a band, Dolly Varden was hardly in the Meatloaf league of theatrics, everything they did, either live or on CD had a purpose. However Duets comes across as one of those treasured demos that should never ever be tampered with. It is a much bleaker album than expected, Doghouse Window is positively dark and brooding. But it establishes this as a Dawson/Christiansen project in more than just name. A fact cemented by The Second Round and One Thousand Brilliant Prizes, the intimate performances go beyond the professional. They are shared moments between husband and wife, mere singing partners ain't that close.The best example of a track given anew identity is The Thing You Love Is Killing You, neither particularly worse or better than when it appears on Dumbest Magnets. Slower and isolated it moves from a country love song to a desperate, desolate cry between two people.The simplicity of the album will probably appeal to those who already know the pair's work. But if you prefer no frills, plenty of feelings then Duets is as good an introduction to Stephen Dawson/Diane Christiansen and Dolly Varden as you are going to get.
Michael Mee
Steve, the principal behind the Canadian indie label Black Hen, is also a noted guitarist and a more than capable songwriter. Steve's last album Welcome To The Gold Coast (2005) was a well-received set that pitted his characteristic fingerpicking against a sophisticated and soft electric backdrop, and Waiting For The Lights To Come Up continues that trend with another attractive and well-balanced collection that's easy on the ear yet not lacking in textural substance and interest. Just over half of the album consists of Steve's own songs, which