The Latest Album, DVD & Book Reviews - MAY 2008
Hayes Carll - Trouble In Mind (Lost Highway)
Born in Houston, dues paid in Galveston’s Gulf Coast dives, Carll clicked with his self-released second album, Little Rock. Now, hooked up to one of Americana’s leading labels, he’s back for a third with a collection of Texas country-rock informed by such acknowledged influences as Townes Van Zandt, Guy Clark and Ray Wylie Hubbard and given musical muscle by guest players like Al Perkins, Will Kimbrough and Dan Baird.
Indeed, the twangy swagger of the marvellous Bad Liver And A Broken Heart sounds like a meeting between Clark and Baird’s old band The Georgia Satellites.
A good time mood hangs around the album’s shoulders, the songs stitched with observations from hard lived experience and the characters who’ve crossed his sightlines. Figures like the "barefoot shrimper with a pistol up his sleeve" in the low slung bluesy I Got A Gig, the wild lover who "likes to lay naked and be gazed upon" in the Hubbard co-written Drunken Poet’s Dream, the banjo dappled love story of the Girl Downtown "with freckles on her nose, pencils in her pocket and ketchup on her clothes" and the lovelorn guy with the single white rose trying to win a hard heart in Beaumont.
Musically, he keeps pretty much to the template of southern honky tonk and barroom country, Faulkner Street even swinging like Billy Swan’s I Can Help (albeit with a heft sample of Dion’s The Wanderer), and from the likes of the slap-swing Wild As A Turkey and the Clark-sounding Knocking Over Whiskeys, you can bet he’s done more than his share of sampling the wares as well as entertaining the customers.
Other than a fine slow country lurch cover of Tom Waits’ I Don't Wanna Grow Up, all the material’s self-penned, the songs revealing that, along with a keen eye, Carll also has a wry sense of tongue in cheek humour, framed no finer than on the final track, She Left Me For Jesus where a clueless redneck complains about his girlfriend dumping him for "that freak in his sandals with his long purty hair".It might not get him too many gigs in the irony free Bible belt, but he’s always going to be welcome where they serve long tall cold ones.
www.hayescarll.com
www.myspace.com/hayescarll
Mike Davies May 2008
Both Matt Mays and El Torpedo come with immaculate credentials. Mays was a member of The Guthries and was nominated at the 2005 Juno Awards for New Artist of the year and Adult Alternative Album of the Year. As a band, MM&ET were nominated for Entertainer of the Year, Group of the Year, Radio Rock Recording of the Year, Album of the Year and Single of the Year, scooping all but Entertainer of the Year, something I suspect all concerned will be eternally grateful for.
The moot point behind that impressive list is that all are music awards in the truest sense. Instead of the annual fashion-fest of some awards ceremonies, to win these you've got to know your craft and know it well. It would be really easy and tempting to categorise MM&ET as merely radio friendly, Canadian rock, a slightly more credible cousin of its American counterpart but the box of delights on offer with this eponymous offering defies cheap labelling.
The first thing that hits you about Matt Mays and El Torpedo - the album that is - is its rawness. This is a rough recording for all the right reasons, instead of seeking slick perfection, the band has injected an urgent, vivid energy and sense of joy into its music.
The second is the neat and engaging 'conflict' between the predominant driving guitar rock and the vulnerability that lies just beneath the surface of Matt Mays's voice. It's pleasantly defined in tracks like Under The Hood where band and singer are closer together but works best on the altogether more raucous Travellin' - which opens the album - here Mays voice becomes an oasis in a rhythmic maelstrom.
Quite naturally and rightly, all manner of guitar-based country-rock bands come to mind when listen to MM&ET and undoubtedly the album travels a well worn path. However there is more than enough to suggest that the band will travel it well and with some success. Wicked Come Winter is a grand enough closing track to live long in the memory and between it and Travellin' are the likes of Cocaine Cowgirl, Ain't So Heavy and Move Your Mind; all have enough of an intelligent edge and originality to make them stand out and not just in the context of this album.
Perhaps the most important impression left by Matt Mays & El Torpedo is of a band that believes completely in its music, instead of a\half-hearted search for direction, you're presented with a complete, confident and highly entertaining album.
Cocaine Cowgirl, On The Hood and Time Of Your Life also feature on a bonus DVD which is a definite bonus but the music speaks eloquently and loudly enough on its own.
www.myspace.com/mattmayseltorpedo
Michael Mee May 2008
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
Incredibly, it’s actually been 13 years since her last album. During which time she has, as she sings on the melancholic title ballad, "had her fair share of heartache." That will include a prescription drugs problem, busts for identity theft, car theft, and heroin possession and, in the space of nine months, the deaths of fellow addict bassist boyfriend Howie Epstein, mother June Carter, stepdad Johnny Cash, and sister Rosey.
However, as she says on the same track, "what doesn’t kill me makes me stronger". And she’s clearly alive and in fighting deeper voiced form with this comeback collection of scorching country rock and heart-stopping ballads, the songs not surprisingly informed by themes of loss, family, love and, following marriage to Joe Breen, of redemption and recovery from her "bittersweet wasted youth".
Recorded without any label backing or contract, she initially sold it via the Internet and at gigs. Word of mouth grew and eventually Yep Roc stepped in, more instrumentation was added, the production sharpened, the tracks remixed and the album given a proper commercial release.
I have to confess I’m no huge fan of Carter in her hillbilly rocking mode but there’s no denying she cooks up a storm on the likes of The Bitter End, Why Be Blue, the funky On To You, and a new version of twangy growler I’m So Cool. I’m more inclined to uptempo Carter when she’s being more old school, as with the bright piano and strings fuelled country pop Bring love, the handclappy line-dance friendly Light Of Your Love or the Opry rockabilly flavours of Break My Little Heart In Two which sounds like the influence of former husband Nick Lowe is still in the mix.
However, when she slows it down for the more traditional sounding material of her own family heritage, she brings a silver tingle to the back of the neck. To Change Your Heart could have been plucked from the Carter Family songbook while Spider Lace is woven from pedal steel yarn and (essentially an elegy for Rosey) Stronger is the sort of I’m still standing number that can reduce hardened truckers to babies.
That’s the album stand-out, but chasing close on its heels has to be the country waltzing It Takes One to Know Me, an old tune that dates back to when Carter was 18. Originally written for her step-father, lines like "it's true that you used to be crazy, and harder to know than most men" now ring with the resonance of her own journey through the rings of fire to find sanctuary with Breen, whose baritone harmonies spookily suggesting she’s actually duetting with Cash himself. She says she tends to reinvent herself every 10 or 12 years. This will do nicely for the next decade.
Mike Davies May 2008
This new double-disc set is the result of a unique and special project on which Beth's been working for several years. In a way, it's a follow-on from her 2004 collection of Latin liturgical pieces Hymns, and more directly the 2006 live DVD filmed in St. Paul's Cathedral. But, so much more than that, it represents an extraordinary spiritual journey for this contemporary singer/songwriter, and presents an extremely wide-ranging collection of songs celebrating the “spectrum and spiritual diversity of the human family”. As well as a Negro spiritual and Shaker hymn, there are several pieces which are sung in other languages than English - there's the traditional Hebrew Shalom Aleichem, the Cuban Orisha Yemaya, a Zulu hymn, a Tibetan mantra and chants in Navajo, Sanskrit and Latin.
There are also several songs written by Beth herself. Befitting its wide cultural ambit, then, the album utilises many different musical forms and genres, and thus ends up being a bit of a curio - but although the first disc starts quite unpromisingly, the pluses soon begin to way outnumber the minuses. Joyful, upbeat moments like That Mystery are particularly attractive, and the experimental all-things hip-hop/rap of My Religion is laudable enough, but I find one or two other tracks on the first disc (like the string-and-choir-soaked Prayers Of An Atheist and Thank You My Lord) quickly become too saccharine to be listenable. Beth's own spirituality seems best conveyed in the simpler moments, the acappella The Flame and the beautifully expressed faith of the hymn For The Beauty Of The Earth for instance. I also liked the quality of “amazing grace” Beth brings to her own anthem Shine All Your Light, and the gentle This Life That's Lent To You, a gorgeous piece of Carter-Family-style country-gospel.
Disc 2 is the more musically adventurous, on which Beth collaborates with Maartin Allcock on an arrangement of the ancient Gaelic hymn Durrow (sung in Welsh). Indeed, Beth's prowess in foreign-language singing is considerable (it even extends to a very credible guttural Farsi), as is her evident attention to detail - she treats her indigenous sources with respect and achieves sincere homage as opposed to clumsy pastiche. And she achieves a universality of purpose by using her own singing voice in each piece, to represent in effect the consistency of humanity itself. The recording quality is both stunning and consistent: all the more amazing when you consider that tracks were recorded in a diverse array of locations. The end-product transcends mere cultural tourism, and is worthy but not in any way pretentious; optimistic, and yes, inspiring for the most part, Beth bravely baring her soul and spirituality with music that really heals. Whether or not you personally subscribe to any specific religious beliefs, you can't ignore the serious impact that her spiritual quest has made on Beth, and the journey she's undergone has certainly produced some very beautiful music.
www.bethnielsenchapman.com
www.myspace.com/bethnielsenchapman
David Kidman May 2008
After a series of wonderful recordings on which Tim's been travelling back to explore his musical roots, his latest album reverts to showcasing his own compositions within a framework of completely solo performances. Tim explains the background to Chameleon in the liner note: his songs mostly start with just him and an instrument, so last summer he went ahead and loaded all those instruments into Gary Paczosa's garage, and played this batch of songs until he was finished. There's certainly a tremendous immediacy about the recording and Tim's performances, a close intimacy that really brings you right into the music-making.
This is Tim on splendid form, right at the very top of his game, doing what he's always done in live performance but rarely getting the chance to do on record: communing with the music and his listeners in what might be called authentic troubadour mode. There's a distinct Guthrie-esque feel to the album too, arising partly out of that mode of delivery and partly out of the nature of the songs themselves. These vary from the classic-mode old-time of Red Dog In The Morning, the poignant Safe In Your Arms, the thoughtful philosophy of the title track and The Only Way To Never Hurt, and the more contemporary romantic balladry of The Garden, through the political singalong This World Was Made For Everyone, the pointed fun of Phantom Phone Call and the deliriously raggy, scatty hokum of Get Out There And Dance. There's a scattering of autobiographical references too - Megna's recalls a childhood memory of a local melon seller, and Where's Love Come From even works in a verse about the fairly recent death of his mother. Around two-thirds of the songs are completely self-penned, the remainder collaborations with old friends like Chris Stapleton, David Olney and John Hadley, but there's not a single dud among them, even the lighter numbers having a distinct classiness and a substance that makes them more than just makeweights.
Tim plays eight different instruments during the course of this record - two bouzoukis, fiddle, banjo, mandolin, mandola and two guitars (his favourite is clearly the 1937 Martin 00-18 model, for it stays for three numbers mid-set!). The sound quality is as brilliant as the playing; there's an abundance of beautifully turned accompaniment as well as some typically jaw-dropping picking on items like Hoss Race and Crooked Road, but it's all so darned natural, as natural as breathing for Tim I suspect. Totally top marks all round.
www.timobrien.net
www.myspace.com/timobrienmusic
David Kidman May 2008
This album was completed in a white-heat condition, fresh from T-Bone's work on producing the acclaimed Plant & Krauss disc Raising Sand. Yet it's very different from both that latter collaboration and T-Bone's 2006 return as recording artist in his own right (True False Identity), being instead a highly theatrical and rather disturbing portrait of the landscapes evoked by the world of playwright Sam Shepard. For it's in the commissioned creation of songs for a retooled 1996 version of Shepard's surreal and prophetic 1972 play The Tooth Of Crime that T-Bone's latest album has its roots; even so, it's taken Burnett over ten years to refine the songs into a form he's satisfied makes sense.
There's a kind of ramshackle aura about the songs, which Burnett himself compares to shards from a broken mirror that come together to create different angles of perspective on the crazy world. The musical pieces are like fractured rock'n'roll, jarring the ear into submission (albeit compellingly). Anything I Say ..., the opener, is typical in that respect, with deep bass brass and twisted twang guitar figures contributing to the sense of nightmare and serving as a vessel to transport the listener to the apocalyptic Dope Island where he reflects during The Slowdown (the latter was one of the numbers not in the end used in the stage play, by the way).
The play's journey is mirrored in the album's song-cycle, taking us through the sickly, almost Beatlesque mellotron-soaked universe of Kill Zone (which has a soaring melody inspired, we're told, by Roy Orbison) into the sinister, murderous sprechstimme portrait of The Rat Age and the heavy-footed, quasi-Beefheartian cacophony in the relentless rhythms of Swizzle Stick, getting trapped in the ambient menace of Telepresence and the gangsterian coven chant Here Come The Philistines, before ending with a weirdly gentle (yet not entirely happy) apotheosis Sweet Lullaby. Burnett's unconventional approach is boosted and aided by the presence of a tight musical team anchored by Marc Ribot and Jim Keltner, with contributions by Greg Leisz, Jon Brion and Darrell Leonard and some alluring, unsettling vocals from Sam Phillips and David Poe.
All in all, Tooth Of Crime is quite an extraordinary work, an atmospheric and enticing opus that's challenging and yes, biting enough to withstand detailed scrutiny and much repeated listening in order that the multi-layered textures and meanings may gradually reveal themselves in time to come.
www.tboneburnett.com
www.myspace.com/tboneburnett
David Kidman May 2008
This is an extraordinary, and indescribable, record that's come out of nowhere and is set to haunt my consciousness for a very long time to come. It's a remarkable tour de force that starts with a hefty sensory overload, a track that's almost sure to be too much to take in - at least on one listen... the tale of The Boxer Who Just Returned From London is punched out at you (literally, through an edgy self-made beat-box rhythm) with all manner of musical references snucking in there, from hip-hop to Paul Simon; it's a defiant and utterly individual statement, the mark of a true iconoclast, an artist who feels no need to compromise, so you have to take him on his own terms or not at all.
To be fair, this opening track (together with its infinitely more delicate flipside, the beautiful hymnal string-quartet-bedecked closer The Ballad Of Charlie Parker and Patsy Cline) is a musical collaboration between C.R. and Matt Rogers; even so, it's fairly typical of the imaginative leaps that C.R. asks the listener to embrace. But whatever, you mustn't be turned off by this in-yer-face display of maverick creativity. Magic Hour Sailor Songs contains a veritable myriad of genre-busting musical delights, all coated with the authentic grime of street-gospel: from the juggernaut-propelled Americana of Slave Lake Blues, the harmonica-fuelled Hell Of A Hotel Of Harm and the gruelling slow-burn build of Planet Boiler Room, to the sleazy gumbo swamp-grind-shuffle of Down At The Café, the sputtering freewheeling invention of Birdcage, the more gently, compellingly erotic Black Bible Night.
C.R.'s lyrics tend to arise out of his slam-poetry pieces, and the often mercilessly visceral style of his delivery is born of the demands of that genre's audience. It's a shame that the words to the album's ten songs aren't printed in the booklet (instead, this contains some of the man's poetry), for I suspect they would bear closer scrutiny. Just like the poetic canvases of Ginsberg, whose New Stanzas For Amazing Grace forms the album's only non-original. And it will come as no surprise to learn of Tom Waits' oft-voiced deep admiration for C.R.'s talents. In the words of the musical ornithologist, C.R.'s a cultural magpie who's impossible to pigeon-hole! The world needs more like him...
www.cravery.com
www.myspace.com/cravery
David Kidman May 2008
Massive in scope and ambition (and nine years in the making), this three-disc set purports to tell the history of the United States through song, from 1492 through to modern times. It's a joint venture between Split Rock Records and 31 Tigers, for which its instigators, former US Attorney General Janet Reno and artist/producer Ed Pettersen, have been able to call on an impressive array of musical talent in order to offer listeners a way to connect or reconnect with America's vast musical and cultural heritage.
For however much we on this side of the pond identify with many aspects of a country with whom we share a common language, there are so many more aspects which intrigue, baffle or perplex us: quite simply, there's so much to America! And in its sheer vastness, this sprawling four-hour set so perfectly mirrors America, its diversity, its history. It's a land of extremes, and a place of paradoxes: strangeness and familiarity, intense beauty and equally intense ugliness (and so forth).
Just like the music it spawns and has spawned, certainly as represented here. Alongside real air-punching triumphs like Del McCoury's version of The Times They Are A-Changin', and quieter successes like Beth Nielsen Chapman's superb rendition of Sometimes I Feel Like A Motherless Child, Janis Ian's acappella Johnny I Hardly Knew Ye and Tim O'Brien's Thousands Are Sailing To Amerikay (those four almost worth the price of admission alone), there's two fine Springsteen covers (Bettye LaVette's Streets Of Philadelphia and Matthew Ryan's Youngstown) and Martha Wainwright gives us her updated take on I Am Woman.
But there's a fair helping of comparative artistic misjudgements and admittedly slightly drossier fare. Even so, at no stage can the set be considered an artistic write-off, for America's a nation of oddballs too, and oddballs can inspire as well as infuriate, as John Wesley Harding's brazen, brassy God Save The King, Jake Shimabukuro's virtuoso ukulele solo rendition of Stars & Stripes Forever and Andrew Bird's wistful How Ya Gonna Keep 'Em Down On The Farm almost effortlessly prove.
It's hard also not to respond to the disturbing, freaky strangeness of Judith Edelman & Neilson Hubbard's Sleep My Child. Contributions from the likes of BR-549, Kim Richey, Jim Lauderdale, the Fisk Jubilee Singers, Blind Boys Of Alabama and “Folk Family Robinson” ((the Black Crowes siblings with father Stan) are worth repeated exposure, as are Thad Cockrell's dreamy take on Dixie's Land (with the Mavericks in tow) and Suzy Boguss's jitterbugging Rosie The Riveter, while curiosities such as Danielson's teen-punk Happy Days Are Here Again, Take 6's glee-club acappella Star Spangled Banner and Devendra Banhart's ticky-tacky Little Boxes are still worth hearing once at least. For such is the diversity of musical idiom even within the broad-brush tag of Americana, that every listener will find something to hate as well as love within the set's 50 tracks (my own “hate” is Karen Parks' overblown operatic Lift Every Voice And Sing, and I've never gotten on with that Grandmaster rap The Message!).
The set's divided chronologically, with Disc 1 taking us from 1492 to 1860, disc 2 through to 1945 via the Civil War, immigration, the Great Depression and world war, and disc 3 covering post-war vacillation between optimism and desperation, protest and universal tragedy. The set's presentation is suitably lavish and high-quality, with full track-by-track personnel credits and historical perspective essays. Really, you can't ignore this release.
David Kidman May 2008
Carl and Beverly have been around on the American traditional music scene for well over 20 years now. Mandolin, banjo and fiddle player Carl originally toured with Norman and Nancy Blake as part of the Rising Fawn String Ensemble, and he now often plays in a duo with James Bryan as well as collaborating, as here, with respected old-time guitar player (and singer and fiddler) Beverley, who herself has worked with an assortment of great musicians and singers from Bruce Molsky and Brad Leftwich to Tara Nevins and Laurie Lewis, while also part of the old-time band The Rockinghams. Surprisingly, Somewhere Over Yonder is only Carl and Beverly's second joint album, but it's a beautifully accomplished hour-long set that gives them both a chance to shine individually as well as together on a really lovely selection of songs with a handful of suitably rollicking tunes thrown in for contrast.
Beverly and Carl's approach is characterised by a wholly unpretentious demeanour, a welcomingly unhurried performing style and a delicate and haunting quality that really brings home the genuine intimacy of old-time music-making, completely natural (as speaking or breathing) and without ever seeming practised and manufactured. Even when they up the pace, as on the Delmore Brothers number Happy On The Mississippi Shore, there's no sense of undue haste and the picking is as faultlessly controlled as the singing. It seems invidious to try and pick out highlights, but it's a real joy to hear their gorgeously phrased “sung from memory” version of Bill Halley's Roll Along Kentucky Moon, their charming covers of Carter Family songs This Is Like Heaven To Me, My Home Among The Hills and Gospel Ship, the equally delightful ballad Charming Beauty Bright, and the closing track, a supremely evocative rendition of Lonesome Scene Of Winter that the duo originally learned from Morgan Sexton (and brilliantly rounded off with a sprightly instrumental coda).
Carl's a fine writer of hopeful songs too, as he proves on There's No Such Thing and the title track. Beverly's singing is peerless - both graceful and idiomatic. Yes, this CD is an absolute treasure, and I do hope these good folks won't take too long in releasing a followup - tho' it won't be in time for their all-too-brief whistle-stop UK tour this month!
David Kidman May 2008
Sarah's been described as a "rising songstress", whose exuberant style is a mixture of classic country songwriting and 80s indie-punk dynamic, and on the face of it not quite what you might expect to find on Sugar Hill. But her debut CD for the label is a confident and forceful set that show Sarah has no need to prove herself in the arena. Sarah's got a really strong singing voice with a distinctive personality, and she can be heard at her best on the steel-driven Around 9 and the punchy Lonely Town Of Love, while her gentler side surfaces on Belle Of The Bar and the yearning Tom Waits opus Blind Love. Her band is tight and sympathetic, with Mike Castellana's electric and pedal steel work especially captivating. Sarah's original compositions are pretty fine, but she also makes a good passionate fist of her chosen covers, particularly Come Back To Me (sourced from LA punk pioneers X), Greg Cartwright's Stop And Think It Over and the aforementioned Tom Waits song. Occasional intrusive production touches (like the annoying radio interference on Modern Trick and an over-enthusiastic barroom chorus on Open Up Your Back Door) aside, the album sounds great, making a direct impact; I can't comment on whether it achieves its desired aim of being "a take-home version of the live show", but it's certainly full of heartfelt energy and equally heartfelt songwriting, and marks Sarah out as one to watch – and see live if she ever comes across the pond.
David Kidman May 2008
Stephenson's released a whole slate of solo albums (some more limited editions than others) in recent years, the last, Wheel of Fortune, recorded with Isaac and John Sutherland at their Lighthouse studio at Dunnet Head. However, this is the first 'band' album since 1992's Lenny Kaye produced A Boy's Heart.
With long time associates Paul Smith on drums and Anthony and Gary Dunn on bass and guitars respectively, it's again a fairly eclectic collection of musical genres. There's Celtic folk ambience on the six minute Western Eagle Part 2 (where his semi-spoken delivery conjures thoughts of Jackie Leven), a slide from lazing 40s flavoured country into reggae and calypso on Indian Summer (resurrected from 1997's Beyond The Leap Beyond The Law), heads down blues boogie for Stone Broke Stone Cold Sober, and the jangling folk rock guitar of an unassumingly anthemic We Are One and the handclappy Right By You.
If you’re looking for influences, there’s echoes of Rambling Jack Elliott to the jaunty talking blues Shadow of the Sun while the simple acoustic I Cannot Run borrows the melody of Bank Of The Ohio and harks to the old tyme gospel bluegrass of The Carter Family.
There’s even a 50s sarsaparilla pop flavoured slap bass Cherryade & Rock ‘n’ Roll which, dedicated to Syd ("Barrett not Vicious"), features a Bert Weedon style guitar break. And, while we’re talking solos, there’s a fabulous jazz guitar and buttery sax interlude midway through The Bubble that will make the toes curl with pleasure.
It’s all lovely stuff, the melodies and his voice as welcomingly warm as fresh baked bread, the songs beating with the heart of Stephenson’s humanity, at peace with the world and content with himself. "Everywhere we wander, love will guide us home", he sings on the untitled, soulful folk bonus track where he sounds like County Durham’s very own Van Morrison, and you can feel the sentiment glowing throughout the album.
"I want to change my music, won’t you give me a hand.", he says on the jangling upbeat Change My Music. Don’t you dare!
www.daintees.com
www.myspace.com/martinstephenson
Mike Davies May 2008
Those who have their indie credentials in order will recognise Walla as producer, songwriter and guitarist for Death Cab For Cutie. No real surprise then that his solo album sounds pretty much like the day job. Just with more of a political streak.
If you happen to be a DCFC fan, then you'll be well content with this. If you've never heard of them, then the comparisons won't matter and you can take Walla's finely crafted collection of indie rock on its own terms, a mix of soft, breathy ballads and more cranked up electric guitar noise. The latter's well represented by The Score and its chunky riffing put to service of a lyric about bringing the troops home along with more alt-rock pop numbers like Geometry &C, the Hurricane Katrina themed Everybody Needs A Home and Our Plans, Collapsing.
On the quieter side, Sing Again does a pleasant pop jog, while both A Bird Is A Song and It's Unsustainable are slow and hushed to the point of almost disappearing. It doesn't actually have much to say about the state of the world that anyone with a soft liberal social conscience won't have already filed in their commitments diary, but it has a pleasant musical warmth and the opening track, Two-Fifty, is a lovely, lushly melodic and dreamily harmonised number that just tips this beyond being more than something for Cutie completists.
www.hallofjusticerecording.com
www.myspace.com/chriswalla
Mike Davies May 2008
They don't make a big play of who they are, but in the interest of drawing attention that might otherwise skip past them in the CD racks, this is Edie Brickell of New Bohemians fame, and her co-writer guitarist stepson Harper Simon, whose dad, as you really should know, is Paul Simon. And Harper's not the only offspring of famous fathers on the album. Guest collaborators include Sean Lennon, Martha Wainwright and Lowell George's daughter Inara. But, as many examples of have shown, musical pedigree can still produce a dull album. Not, however, here.
It's not going to get the young and cool all frothed up, but those of more sophisticated, mature musical sensibilities will find much to make them glow with melodies that are poppy but layered and grooves that are both relaxed yet darkly coiled.
It is, for the most, steeped in smouldering Southern white blues, smoky Americana and rock soul. Opening with the intoxicatingly heady brew of Henri with its Gallic noir ambience, spooked guitar, carousel organ and Brickell's husky languid vocals sounding like a ghost calling down the years, it shifts straight into the, er, bohemian juke joint swing of Better where Brickell clips the end of her words as if she was Lily Allen and on to the swaggery good time Sheryl Crow-like barrel-housing Ready To Play.
Quality established, it rarely dips. Confused is a circling melancholic piano waltz, Easier all slow burn narcotic country blues and Maximo the sound of sultry afternoons among the juniper bushes while the reggae lurch Need A Friend and the 90s seconds of Dynamite Child gives it some solid B52s surf guitar twang dance moves.
A little more electronic than you might have expected from the folk rock backgrounds (though admirers of Brickell's art student lyrical bent will be happy to know she's still playing to the gallery), but produced with a keen ear to balanced textures by Simon and Bryce Goggin, it may have begun as a one off experiment but hopefully they'll stick around and refine what sounds like a winning formula.
www.theheavycircles.com
www.myspace.com/heavycircles
Mike Davies May 2008
Belfast-born but now residing in Galway, Noel's a singer-songwriter who creates original songs that, though steeped in Irish tradition, are not easy to categorise; he's also a gifted flute player (and teacher) and proficient mandolinist and guitarist. In the 70s he travelled extensively in mainland Europe and the area around the Great Lakes before stints with bands Rakish Paddy, the Rambling Boys Of Pleasure and the Druid Soul Band, then finally released his first solo CD, No Trouble At All, in 2003. Musically, Noel draws his principal inspiration from the ground-breaking work of the McPeake Family, Dubliners and Clancy Brothers, with a strong influence from the innovators of Irish music of the heady era of Sweeney's Men, Declan Corey and Brendan Hearty, with nods towards the cheekily quirky offshoots of that scene like Dr. Strangely Strange and Tir Na Nóg. Noel clearly has great respect for tradition and his roots, and presents his stories-in-song in a masterly way that sketches their emotional import and allows the inherent nostalgia to blossom without giving in to sentimentality. He uses lyrical language (it's been described as reminiscent of the Gaelic song tradition), which tends to tumble out in a torrent of words (as notably on the delirious imagery of the title song); at times there's the distinct feeling of the rhythms of speech or conversation (Starin' Fortune In The Face), at others of a kind of lilting incantation (Silence Is A Delicate Thing). Forever Sinking is an intriguing song that in its chorus threatens to turn into Peggy Gordon! At its more florid moments, eg on songs like Mackerel Sky, Noel's singing style can be curiously reminiscent of Vin Garbutt, while at other times (Billy Buller's Finger) his phrasing and attack also reminded me of Terry Conway. For the most part, the musical palette is simple and restrained, the character of the accompaniment to Noel's guitar or mandolin is very much determined by Adam Costa's wiry fiddle playing; accordion, banjo and bass appear but fitfully, and Noel himself only picks up the flute for one song. This release has considerable musical charms, which are enhanced by the attractive booklet artwork and design.
David Kidman May 2008
Though originally from Omaha, Nebraska, for the past 36 years Tom's lived the life of a professional troubadour, performing from coast to coast and even hosting a radio program. Blue Roads, Red Wine is Tom's twelfth album, and its songs embody the theme of things that Tom has cared about the most in his long musical career: history, friends, love, wine and books. Hence the opening number (the title track), one of those likeable, companionable folky singalongs in praise of certain pleasures in life, which contains all the key features of Tom's easy-going and wholly accessible style. His singing is completely assured, his voice a smooth and well rounded baritone much reminiscent of Stan Rogers especially, or Dan McKinnon, with shades of Gordon Lightfoot or Ian Tyson too perhaps. Tom sounds, and is, thoroughly comfortable in his craft, lovingly caressing words and phrases to ensure the meaning is communicated, and years of experience and success have enabled him to hone his style accordingly. The best and most rewarding of Tom's songs for me are those with a historical bias, like Celilo Falls (the story of the area flooded by the building of the Dalles Dam on the Columbia River in 1957) and Words Upon The Wire (the tale of Tom's father, a telegraph operator). I also liked The Eyes Of Rembrandt, a reflection on the timelessness of art that in a way mirrors the timelessness of Tom's writing style, and Tom's heartfelt cover of Andy M. Stewart's Lover's Heart. It's probably symptomatic that these standouts mostly occur in the first half of the disc, which consists almost entirely of Tom's own compositions; the rest is a series of sufficiently well-observed (but to my mind largely less distinguished) covers - of songs by Bruce Coughlan, Pat Garvey, Chris Kennedy (his Watching The Rivers Flow appears in two versions including a folky-reggae bonus cut) and David Mallett (his Hope For One And All closes the set, and very nicely too). Musical accompaniments see Tom's gently intricate and always interesting guitar attractively complemented by bassist Donny Wright (who'd previously worked with Carter & Grammer), Nolan Murray (fiddle), Fuzzy Purcell (mandolin) and Marty Leonard (percussion) among others; it's a fulsome and accessible blend, although there are times when the insistent, “easy-busy” flicked percussive strummed rhythm gets a little wearing on repeat. Which I suppose leads me to the small but significant reservation I have with this record: ie., that while there's no denying the high level of craft on display, nor the appeal of each individual song, nor indeed the cumulative effect of the whole set (a dozen songs), the lasting impression isn't (yet) all that great. Having said which, that impression may prove deceptive and my conclusion may turn out to be premature, and I have the feeling that I shall be returning to Tom's work fairly soon.
David Kidman May 2008
To say that BB King is the greatest bluesman still alive does not really tell the full story or impress enough upon those who are not of a blues persuasion. The fact that he is still performing at the grand age of 83 should be enough but the best way to feel the experience that is BB King is to actually see or hear him live. There are a number of live albums on the go but this one restricts itself to performances for the BBC covering a 20 year span. The shows are gleaned from three gigs at Hammersmith Odeon (1978), Glasgow (1991) and Fairfield Hall, Croydon (1998) plus a couple of tracks from the Andy Kershaw show in 1989. The songs are all standards and the introduction at The Hammersmith Odeon says it all - “The wonderful Mr BB King”. That introduction precludes a slow beginning to Caldonia, which with its prominent horns and trumpet solo, has all of the trademarks – the powerful voice and stinging licks from Lucille. There are five songs from this show and he turns on the funk for I Love To Live The Life. This slips nicely into Night Life, which is the classic smoothie. This is a recording of a man in his prime and there has to be a special mention for the pianist – his solo is so cool. The sound on When It All Comes Down is sometimes beset by echoes but the fact that it was recorded 30 years ago has to be taken into account. Of course, that doesn't stop the vibrant audience participation. The Thrill Is Gone is thought of, by many, as the quintessential BB King song and he plays it in so many different ways. The first of two versions on offer is played in the classic blues style that most people will be familiar with. There are two songs from Glasgow and I Gotta Move Out Of This Neighbourhood is welcomed in the usual warm manner by a very appreciative audience including me! There is a better sound on this; well it is 15 years later, after all. The long, slow intro only serves to whet the appetite for the classic that is to come. The other Glasgow inclusion is a fast paced version of When Love Comes To Town which has horns aplenty. Worth listening to if you think that the U2 version is the be all and end all.
Five tracks from Croydon begin with the high energy Let The Good Times Roll and he gives a big build up to guitarist Leon Warren on Stormy Monday Blues before the pair of them serve up a powerful version of the T-Bone Walker classic. BB gives us a bit of conversation about who had been recording with (Rolling Stones, Eric Clapton, Willie Nelson & Heavy D) in 1998 before giving us an energetic Ain't Nobody Home. Five Long Years is one of my favourite BB King songs and this performance is broody and brilliant. The last of the Croydon songs is How Blue Can You Get and he jokes with the audience about The Blues Brothers and how he didn't get into the film. Unfortunately for him he was in the less successful Blues Brothers 2000! This song will be familiar to aficionados of the film who will recognise it at the song that the supergroup sang. BB's performance is, however, much more powerful. Paying The Cost To Be The Boss is another of his classics and is a bit more up-tempo than normal. It is very slick and his voice and playing are in top gear. The last track is the second version of The Thrill Is Gone and it is superb. The two live studio recordings benefit from those surroundings and are the best on the album for quality but they just lack that electricity that is felt when you are in the presence of one of music's greatest performers. This is BB King - I need not say any more.
David Blue May 2008
Jeff Healey was one of the most distinctive guitarists of my generation and I was sad to hear of his recent passing after bravely battling against cancer. It is all the more sad as this album, his first blues/rock album in eight years, was due to be released within three weeks of his all too early death. He is backed on the album by Dave Murphy on keyboards, Alec Fraser on bass, Dan Noordermeer on guitar and Al Webster on drums, a line-up that Healey called “the best damned bar band in Canada”. Mess Of Blues is a compilation of standards, some live, that have been part of his show over the years. I'm Torn Down is live and what he did best – a scorching blues. This is how to remember him and parts of his solo just melt together. You don't really have to do too much to How Blue Can You Get. However, there are more notes than BB King and keyboards get a big slice. Live again. Sugar Sweet is a funky blues with a fuzzed guitar solo and Jambalaya is upbeat Creole with superb guitar. There is a good version of The Weight but it just lacks the original feel and Levon Helm's vocal can never be recreated. A classic song nonetheless.
Mess O' Blues is played in a barrelhouse style. It's been recorded by many from Elvis to The Quo and this one tends towards Elvis. It's Only Money is high paced boogie/rock n roll. I would have loved Jools Holland on this although pianist Dave Murphy (who Healey said is “undoubtedly the finest keyboardist I've ever worked with) does the job exceptionally well. He also takes on vocal duties here but Healey steals the show yet again with his scorching guitar. Like A Hurricane is one of my all time favourites and this is a very good version but it does lack a bit of the originals impact. He does stamp his own personality on it though and his guitar work goes without saying. Sitting On Top Of The World is the classic blues. This is a driving version with a good piano break and marvellous guitar. A boogie-woogie version of Shake Rattle & Roll finishes things off.
This album is as good an epitaph to a great guitarist as there can be.
David Blue April 2008
Raised in Pasadena but now living in the UK, Guy Tortora has been a bit of a wanderer. His travels have taken him from the USA to Canada, on to mainland Europe before finally settling in London. He has played at festivals and clubs throughout Europe and shared a stage with Peter Green and John Mayall. The eponymous title track opens things up and the blues based dobro is fine. It is well produced and Giles King's harmonica wails away in the background. Blind Willie Johnson's Nobody's Fault But Mine has been recorded many a time and Tortora gives it a slow, jazzy treatment with prominent piano. It's a bit too clean if you know what I mean but it is well played on acoustic guitar though. Like It That Way has some gentle sounds to take you away in a dream. Cotton Was King is a bit of a history lesson and the spoken vocal is powerful and thought provoking. Earthy harmonica from Giles King once again. God Don't Change is a blues based soft rocker with plenty of chanting in the background. The jazzy Super Blue has him going electric for once and this JJ Cale song has a telling guitar break.
Mama's Tired is an acoustic blues but the snappy drums from Mike Thorne gives it a contemporary feel. White Boy Blues has prominent Hammond organ from the excellent Janos Bajtala and it shuffles along in a slow groove. Tortora's voice could do with a little more edge. People Get Ready is the Curtis Mayfield song recorded by many including a duet by Rod Stewart and Jeff Beck. This version compares favourably with the best of them and the slide guitar fits in very well. The Gospel feel to it makes it a highlight. Share Croppers makes it two crackers in a row and Tortola is really getting into it now. This acoustic Americana is very well played and Olly Blanchflower's double bass is a point in question. The album is finishing strongly and it would seem that his place should be in Americana - he is far better in this field. There are some backing vocals and Richard Studholme's mandolin on Falling and it certainly makes for a fuller sound. To finish off, there is a bonus track in the form of Don't Do It. This is a blues on the rock n roll side and is a bit of fun to complete a fine selection.
Guy Tortora has a future for himself in Americana, he just has to realise it.
David Blue April 2008
If I Could Holler is the eleventh album release from Catfish, a truly unique musician whose ongoing evangelical mission is to tour the world with his deep, foot-stomping acoustic blues and roots music; and he still regularly plays to packed houses whenever he tours the UK. Just when you might think the well containing the world's supply of Catfish Brand rootsy delta-blues might be running dry, this latest collection comes up trumps with a totally fresh new chapter. Of course, it's always a miracle to hear the way Catfish plays, lovingly caressing the notes and expressive import out of his equally lovingly tended guitars, so much so that they're like an extension of his own physical body (as has already been observed by the blues commentators, but it don't hurt to say it again!). Such is his command of the music that he always fully realises his vision, which is to find "the richest expression possible out of one guitar, vocals and stomping feet". And altho' I've seen Catfish play live at least half a dozen times and I own all his albums, I still sat open-mouthed through this new record, such is the guy's tremendous command of his craft - and his listeners! The album contains original songs as well as ones "recomposed from the influence of musical giants", and forms a seamless and well-contrasted sequence of as-live performances captured with stunning immediacy by engineer Justin Kennedy. Several of the titles are revisits of stuff Catfish had recorded earlier or has been performing for many years - and it forms an interesting exercise in comparison (I wouldn't want to be without either). And hey, so what if some of the titles are well-worn too - good ol' Catfish still brings something special to each and every one of 'em! He carefully chooses an instrument suited to his interpretation of each title (here, two acoustics and four different Nationals - 12-string, baritone, wood and metal bodies), and as ever his control of phrasing, rhythm, dynamics and harmonics is more than exemplary, in perfect phase with his vocal work. Malted Milk, taken at a drippingly leisurely pace, fairly steams with juicy innuendo, and as usual Catfish excels on the sanctified selections like Cross The River Of Jordan (learnt from Blind Willie McTell) and Joseph Spence's Gonna Live That Life (With Music In My Soul). His recomposed Skip James number (My Gal) contains the priceless line "She's got a head just like some two-by-four in some lumberyard"! Jitterbug Swing is funkier than ever, I swear, while Catfish shows he can even give us a new perspective on the folk ballad The Cuckoo, for goddamn's sake! On the final cut (Mississippi John Hurt's Satisfied, Tickled Too), partner Penny brings her own voice to blend in - delicious! I could say (at the risk of a well-worn pun!) that Iowa hefty debt of gratitude to this guy for all the fantastic music over the past 20 or so years, and for all he's done to spread the gospel.
David Kidman May 2008
Contemporary acoustic duo Chris and Siobhan Nelson were for many years part of Southampton's Appalachian dance team Loose Screws alongside songwriter/guitarist/singer Barry Wake, and they formed a bond which extended to a keen interest in, and growing admiration for, Barry's developing songwriting. Since relocating to Southport, Chris and Siobhan have recorded two fine duo albums, on each of which they've covered four of Barry's songs. Now they've teamed up with Barry for the first time as a trio, to perform a further fifteen of his songs, all hitherto unrecorded. Anyone who's responded to Barry's writing thus far will revel in this new album, which is chock-full of true craftsmanship in the writing and partnered by responsive and abundantly sensitive musicianship. For although Barry's songs are the focus, his own voice takes the lead on four of the fifteen songs and his own guitar features on these performances, what is particularly striking is the feeling of togetherness coming across with the whole project, in the extent to which the vocal and instrumental contributions of Chris and Siobhan furnish the songs with an ideally complementary musical character and signature. So, what of the songs themselves? I suppose you could define them as old-fashioned (at least in the best tradition of contemporary folk songwriting), in the sense that they're characterised by a combination of appealing melodies (many also with good choruses for those inclined) and simple sentiments, conveyed without sentimentality, in plain language yet powerfully evocative. Almost always with a socio-historical bent, they convey the stories they set out to tell with a trademark wistfulness, an often deeply moving sense of nostalgia that's nevertheless not without regret or bitterness in its believable perspective. Some songs concern themselves with Southampton's industrial heritage (Heartbeat Of The Town, Woolston's Pride) or its local characters (St. Crispin's Day, The Itchen Ferry Lad), some with often harrowing wartime experiences (this time, WW2: The Morning Train, recounting the plight of evacuees, and Along The Way, reflecting poignantly on the D-Day landings). Mazey Days is a catchy little number that cheekily uses the opening phrase of MacColl's Schooldays' End as a springboard for portraying the copper miners' way of alleviating their harsh working life by drunken celebrations, while Living In A Shadow recalls the Lancashire cotton industry. And then there are songs whose raison-d'être is altogether more universal (a plea for peace, Raise A Banner, and a convivial farewell-chorus-song, Close The Door). The accompanying instrumental work is both fresh-toned and appropriately skilled, with Chris's fiddle, viola, mandolin and octave mandola (and very occasional accordion from guest Roy Eccles) providing an entirely refreshing and gently virtuosic foil for Barry's own solid and simply judged guitar parts. Just under half of the songs are sung by Siobhan, beautifully and expressively and with exemplary diction, which is not to underplay Chris's sterling renditions of a further three. Perhaps I could make one or two minor observations, which aren't intended as adverse criticisms of Nelsons Wake in terms of the quality or integrity of their own performances or interpretations: firstly, that some of the songs might alternatively benefit from being sung by a rougher-toned (perhaps "older") voice, and secondly that one or two of Barry's melodic hooks or phrases have a distinct (though I'm sure unintentional) resemblance to existing, familiar songs (The Morning Train's opening line resembles that of The Little Piecer and James And John that of MacColl's My Old Man) – I hasten to add, I'm not accusing Barry of plagiarism!… And finally, there may be times when the cumulative impact of so many high-quality individual songs may be diluted by a touch of emotional overload in the listener (pleasing though this may be). But all in all, this is a most attractive collection of classy and satisfying songs that richly deserve to be heard (and sung) more widely. Anyone responding to the writing of (say) John Conolly, Dave Evardson or Graeme Miles is sure to find these songs well worth investigating. For Barry's songs are rapidly forming an impressive body of work, of which Nelsons Wake are likely to be considered definitive interpreters.
David Kidman May 2008
New and traditional songs from Conamara is the subtitle for this intensely enchanting disc that comes to us from the somewhat unexpected quarters of the cutting-edge Scottish folk label Vertical. It's an unusual release in that it's sung almost entirely in Irish Gaelic (the odd-song-out being Poor Weary Wanderer, a John Spillane composition which, though sung equally delightfully in English, seems mildly out of place here) - but hey, that mustn't put you off. It's a disc where the splendour of the singing voice dominates, necessarily, but when you discover also that the whole album's produced by Dónal Lunny (no less) and features contributions by Dónal himself along with musicians Máirtín Ó Connor (button accordion), Róisín's fellow-Irish Consort colleague Siobhán Armstrong (Irish and renaissance harps), Ronan Browne (bansuri, whistle, flute) and Graham Henderson (keyboards), you'll appreciate that it's something of a work of art too, with a distinctively mellow, subtle air full of gentle presence and admirable clarity of parts. Each one of which, of course, complements Róisín's striking and brilliantly ornamented singing, the lines of which flow just like another instrument. Her melismata on the disc's (official) final item, Coinleach Glas an Fhómhair, a song of unrequited love, are overwhelmingly beautiful, an effect emphasised by the appearance (on just this one song) of the gently-applied forces of the RTE Concert Orchestra with John McSherry on low whistle. Other disc highlights are the wire-strung-harp-accompanied Síle Bheag Ní Chonnalláin; Alí: Dílleachtaín Gan Bhri (an anti-war song written by Róisín's mother, the celebrated sean-nós singer Treasa Ní Cheannabháin Elsafty); the various acappella selections (including a powerful Róisín Dubh), and a significantly fleet-footed rendition of Cúnla (complete with a cameo by dancer Seosamh Ó Neachtain). The booklet sensibly includes full texts in the original Irish, together with some helpful background notes to each song. This is, incredibly, Róisín's debut solo album - although you may remember her appearing on Sharon Shannon's Libertango CD a few years back; it's so heart-warmingly good that even at an hour's duration it doesn't overstay its welcome, and I do hope it's not going to take her ages to record and release a followup.
David Kidman May 2008
Winner of the Scots Traditional Music Award for Up and Coming Artist of the Year, 2007, Maeve's a striking young singer with a strong-toned but quite gorgeous voice, who sings with equal facility in both English and Gaelic on this her debut CD (even more amazing when you learn that she's not a native Gaelic speaker). Her vocal approach is well matched by an elegant, thoroughly contemporary musical backdrop courtesy of bassist and producer Duncan Lyall with colleagues Ali Hutton (guitar, pipes, whistle), Martin O'Neill (percussion) and Patsy Reid (fiddle, viola, cello) - a backdrop which in a fresh, direct and upfront manner enhances the drama in Maeve's vocal performances. Maeve's liner note dedicates the CD to "three gutsy, inspiring women", and those adjectives could well be used to define Maeve's own singing here; I particularly enjoyed her take on the waulking songs Ho Ro Hùg O Hùg O and Mac Iain 'ic Sheumais, although her way with ballads like The Cruel Brother, The Diver Boy and Silver Dagger (whence the CD's title comes) is also very persuasive, as is her spicy, episodic treatment of the puirt-a-beul strathspey-and-reel set (track 9). Perhaps the rear cover shot depicts Maeve a tad fearsomely though, for her version of The Wild Rover which closes the disc is wild only in the syncopated sense, and it makes jazzy capital out of the unusual melody she learnt from Mick West. With neat, tight yet supple arrangements the order of the day (I especially like Patsy's intensely powerful string contributions which offset Ali's clean and precise guitar figures and Martin's well-drilled kit drumming), every item on the disc is a winner, and it's a shame that it only runs to 40 minutes in total. With her supremely confident ability to communicate a song to her audience, and a clear-sighted vision of just where she intends to take the song, Maeve's certainly gonna be one to watch in the future.
David Kidman May 2008
Remember Fred? - well most of us do, if only for The Oldest Swinger In Town, never one of my favourites... But Fred's early days, as collected together in this double-disc anthology-reissue of his 60s-to-early-70s output, produced some good examples of the halfway-decent folkie-comedian plying his trade and developing his art. The earliest tracks here, which comprise the set's bonus material, are taken from Fred's 60s Saydisc EPs (I'm not sure whether this includes absolutely everything however): these give us some competent enough trad-arrs alongside an Adge Cutler cover. The bulk of this set comprises the two vintage LPs that Fred released on the tiny independent Village Thing label (yes, the one started by fRoots' Ian Anderson down in Bristol). The first, The Folker, was the then-standard folky-jokery as translated to vinyl, which contained some moments of genuine inspiration (here, The Folker, Fred's own priceless parody of The Boxer, and his mock-educational Lurn Theeself Fawk), which were clearly the high points of his live act, alongside some variable humorous items from the pens of others (here Keith Christmas, Miles Wootton and Dave Turner) and as fillers, adequate-cum-reasonable covers of traditional songs; there's also a spirited (if inevitable) dialect-drenched Cutler (again Wurzel not Ivor!) cover - the latter prominently featuring the Pigsty Hill Light Orchestra. The second of the Wedlock VT LPs, Frollicks, is more inconsistent, but still contains some gems that Fred became famous for bringing into the folk clubs - Stan Crowther's Vicar And The Frog, Keith Christmas' Robin Head and Examinations Rag, and, as a grand finale, an iconoclastic (for then!) Chuck Berry-style thrash through the venerable (even then!) Wild Rover. And of course there's a Talking Folk Club Blues that rambles on more than a bit... Much of this LP was recorded live, and yes, the recording does bring back the halcyon days of the 70s folk club scene - at least the non-serious-trad side of the fence. Fred was always one of the more entertaining of the folk-club comics, and this collection does him no service despite its share of distinctly dated moments. When good, it's fairly side-splitting; when not, it's bordering on the positively embarrassing; but time capsules are invariably of interest when exhumed, and this one is no exception.
David Kidman May 2008
"Last evening I fell for a vampire..." - and you yourself are every bit as likely to fall for Ghost Bees' unique brand of spooky-folk when you're sucked in by that opening gambit, compellingly vocalised in eerily shifting girl-sibling harmony after a minor-key prelude of gently plucked rhythmic mandolin, guitar, droning viola, glissando violin and t(w)inkling glockenspiel, the imagery dancing into your ears in queasily appealing waltz-time. It's a strange but aggressively beautiful, and often melancholy, sound-world (reminiscent of the weirder experiments of the ISB, Fit & Limo or Kate Bush), which spills over into, nay fairly characterises, the rest of this teasingly brief (35-minute) yet highly treasurable disc from "twin telepaths" Romy and Sari Lightman who hail from Halifax, Nova Scotia. The seven songs making up their debut offering are as tales told by a two-headed balladeer, replete with distinctly whimsical, occasionally overwrought but intensely evocative language, recounting or reflecting on matters of fantasy and ancestral nostalgia. Literacy is a byword: and yes, I had to look up the esoteric album title too! - it denotes the practice of tea-leaf reading! Indeed, the art of divination will, I suspect, also stand you in good stead with the duo's chimerical lyrics, which address the bleak and frightening in our lives (for instance, the experience of birth in Sinai, infanticide in the malevolent Goethe-gothic of Erlking and the terror of the Pol Pot regime in Tear Tassle Ogre Heart).Sometimes enigmatic, but invariably enthralling listening; I'm still not sure what it all adds up to, even after several plays, but I'm downright enchanted and sufficiently intrigued to persist and listen again - and closely. I'm sure Ghost Bees have chosen their name carefully, for their music creates somewhat of a spectral buzz for sure - an insistent thrumming ambience that just won't go away: and genuinely scary!
David Kidman May 2008
The disc's title is a fair indication of the tenor and subject-matter of the songs penned by this Belfast-born, Glasgow-based singer-songwriter who has at last finally got round to making a solo record (you might recall his fine duo CD with Heather Innis, Waiting For The Calm, which was released in 2004). On this collection, Ciaran chases his dreams; he also revisits his home (The Prodigal's Return), and muses on the paradoxes of life (It's Only When I'm Drinking) while paying homage to Joni Mitchell, Josh Ritter and other heroes with whom he's crossed physical or metaphorical paths over the years. He sings well, directly communicating with his listeners, and he writes powerfully and persuasively with a keen feel for observation of people and their emotions. His songs are pensive, but invariably couched in a musical setting that's accessible and radio-friendly (almost to a fault, for I feel the nigh-ubiquitous soft-rock cadences of sax, piano and keyboards on several tracks detract a little from the impact and passion of Ciaran's lyrics - but that's a personal preference, and you may well warm to that approach more than I do). The standout songs for me come towards the close of the album: the climate-change warning of Halcyon Highway (written after reading Mark Lynas's book High Tide), Wrong Turns which poignantly epitomises the disc title's philosophical dilemma, and Calvary Circus, Ciaran's impassioned response to the Good Friday Agreement. Ciaran has an obvious strong respect for the tradition, which extends as much to the contemporary tradition (the writing of latter-day masters such as Eric Bogle, Anthony John Clarke and Kieran Halpin and, perhaps most especially in respect of elements such as some of the chord-changes, Joni Mitchell): his thoughtful rendition of Raglan Road, which forms the disc's one non-original, is very nicely done. As I hinted, there are occasional touches of over-arrangement, but overall Ciaran has produced, with the invaluable aid of Stuart Duncan and a host of other capable musicians and singers, a satisfying and well-rounded collection of self-penned songs.
David Kidman May 2008
Cork-born Lorcán is a passionate young sean-nós singer with a confident and commanding, though sensibly measured, style which emphasises the musical quality of the songs in an often quite innovative way while demonstrating both a respect for and understanding of the texts. Sean-nós singing can be a bit of an acquired taste, I'll admit, but Lorcán's strongly individual presentation is both intense and involving without being austere or intimidating: deliberate yes, but involved rather than soporific. There's both intimacy and an understated sensuousness in his response (a combination which I've noted also in the singing of Dónal Maguire), and on some of the songs there's also an approach to decoration that rather resembles that of Robin Williamson. Unusually for a singer perhaps, Lorcán admits that he has often fallen for the music of a song and the sound of its phrases before he understood anything else about it. The drone of a hardanger or fiddle (Caoimhin Ó Raghallaigh), cello (Jane Hughes) or pipes (Mick O'Brien), at once pictorial and timeless, Pictorial aspect to the musical expression almost before the meaning of the words at times. other musicians play harp, whistle and bodhrán but each individual song in sparse in texture and two of the key songs are performed “undressed with accompaniment” as Lorcán aptly describes it. There's a weird sensation caused by Lorcán double-tracking some passages of the text of the eerie 18th century elegy Tuireamh Mhic Finín Dhuibh, only accentuating the sheer other-worldly nature of its melody line, which is at once epic and highly disorientating. A bit like the parallel-chanting of Tibetan monks, perhaps, but it sounds truly extraordinary. Finally, the whole CD ends most delightfully when the subtly mellow song Bean Dubh An Ghleanna glides almost effortlessly into an uplifting and gently sparkling Merry-Band-like playthrough of the reel Kiss The Maid Behind The Barrel. Sure enough, there's sometimes a hint of stridency in Lorcán's delivery, and it probably won't help that a significant majority of the disc's tracks are performed at a similar (slowish) pace, but personally I've found this one of the most captivating discs of sean-nós singing I've encountered in recent years.
www.copperplatedistribution.com
David Kidman May 2008
As part of the Irish label's reissue programme here's the classic collection which Andy and Paul recorded (with Dónal Lunny and Kevin Burke - and Dónal producing) at Rockfield Studios back in late 1976, one which has come to be viewed as somewhat of a benchmark. The LP presents Andy and Paul on scintillating form, both instrumentally and vocally, on a selection of traditional songs that can only be considered essential, many of which have since become repertoire staples. As centrepiece of the collection (well, last track on side one!) there's Paul's glorious seven-minute version of Arthur McBride, which a large number of folk performers have since used as a template - and which has since been regarded as virtually definitive. You can almost say the same about the Paul's rendition of the tale of Mary And The Soldier, which gets an early airing here. And as an interlude amidst the traditional songs, there's Andy's own composition Autumn Gold, the final item in the quartet of songs he wrote during his crucial 1968/69 Eastern European sojourn. The instrumental selections sparkle too, and like the songs the men's performances are timeless, sounding as fresh today as 30+ years ago. This reissue retains the fine booklet notes by Frank Harte too. This is an important LP in the scheme of things, for its role in crystallising the Irish musical renaissance of the late 60s and early 70s instigated by the likes of Andy, and of course it still casts a fair shadow on subsequent approaches to the contemporary performance of Irish traditional song.
David Kidman May 2008
The Spooky Men's Chorale is a distinctly idiosyncratic vocal ensemble from the Blue Mountains, west of Sydney (Australia), and like to describe themselves as a “wanton congregation of jolly vocalpaths”. They were a big hit at UK festival stages during 2006 and 2007, performing, acappella, a show-stopping mix of original compositions both funny and heartbreaking, vocal anthems from Georgia (the former Soviet Union state) and what they term “choralised” versions of rock standards. Folk music in a very wide sense, then, you could say - and potentially unacceptable to many. They make a big impression, “striking while the irony is hot” - and I suspect that they're very probably one of those acts that you'll either “get” straightaway or will harbour an inbuilt resistance to. But SMC leader Stephen Taberner, is clearly a man of vision, having shaped this ostensibly disparate bunch of men into a well-drilled fighting machine that conquers all auditoria - including your living-room. Their representation on CD is certainly faithful, bold and full of presence, but I still rather think that, great though the recorded sound is, you do need to have seen them live to get the most out of the testosterone-filled impact of 18 hirsute males pounding and cajoling their vocal chords into your consciousness. Imagine the stentorian dark tones of those rumbling Russian choirs (if without quite the deep gothic darkness of the Russians' sepulchral basses), or the carefully-arranged vocalisations of the American barbershop or glee-club without the latter's over-polite predictability: yes, it's a kind of compromise, but always an entertaining one and a very positive listening experience; and what's important is that each one of the men has their heart firmly in their singing. The problem I guess for some listeners will be that once the initial impact is made, the moment of delightful delirious shock, nothing is any longer a surprise or can be. Whatever you may think of their repertoire, the Spooky Men exude a certain rugged charm, and the “beautiful anarchy” of their performances embodies a skilful mix of faultless vocal expertise and maverick abandon. Stop Scratching It is the SMC's second CD, and it moves totally unembarrassedly between the sublime (Joni Mitchell's Fiddle And The Drum, and a wonderful, spiritually reposeful setting of Gospodi Pomiluj) to the (sublimely) ridiculous (their incredible rendition of Abba's Dancing Queen has to be heard to be believed!), between which extremes we find Glagolitica, an intensely stirring, busy adaptation of fragments of Janáèek's Glagolitic Mass, sung in Old Slavonic and for all the world sounding just like you'd imagine an invading army of Visigoths! Sensitivity isn't forgotten elsewhere, with SMC member Ryan Morrison's Lightpole and a theatrical adaptation of Belloc's fable Jim, while Captain Beefheart's Upon The My O My sounds unexpectedly well. It's a more satisfying mix than the ensemble's debut album, which strove too hard at times to make an impression... But yes, in spite of the inevitable reservations, I still find the mighty SMC spookily compelling, so hey-up-ho, get yourself all tooled up and go see their unique show when they next visit!
David Kidman May 2008
With hindsight, perhaps it was inevitable that after displaying such an acute empathy for Nancy and James' music and performing style on their 2006 CD Strands Of Gold, Robert Harbron would team up with the duo in a more hands-on musical partnership (and, it seems, turn themselves into fully-fledged firm of folk-solicitors in the process!). This CD's release date rather cannily capitalises on the trio's barnstorming headline appearance at Cheltenham Folk Festival, and is a wholly convincing demonstration of the three musicians' individual talents and of the fully complementary way in which those skills are pooled together to make a cohesive unit in matters both of actual performance and interpretive flair. By now, we're familiar with the strengths of the Kerr-Fagan collaboration: a natural dynamism, an innate ability to tell stories in song, a real ear for instrumental colourings and inventive blendings of songs and tunes, and a keen interest in the exploration of new compositions). The powerful new trio lineup builds on these strengths while integrating (rather than just overlaying) Robert's English concertina and guitar playing and, importantly, his own distinctive brand of musical sensitivity. Robert's own tune-compositions now feature strongly within the now-well-established mix of quality songs from British and Australian sources and tunes drawing from English, Australian, Irish and American traditions. Rob and Nancy's recent collaboration on the publication of the manuscript book of William Winter is reflected in the inclusion of Favourite Duet among this album's instrumental tracks, others of which provide appealing examples of Rob's active pictorial imagination and of his creative approach to the “Station House” metaphor as meeting-point for different traditions (the old-timey moto-perpetuo of Request Stop is a good instance of this). The closing set joyously combines three classic Australian dance tunes learned from Margaret Fagan. The songs are compellingly delivered, honest and dramatic without being over-expressed; particular successes include James's singing of Rod Puddefoot's Farmhands And Masters, Nancy's delicate goodbye-song Break Your Fall (to which her own autoharp playing adds a special, attractively ethereal air) and the “metaphysical medley” combining Iris Dement's Let The Mystery Be and Joe Hill's Pie in the Sky. James brings to Redgum's Hugh MacDonald's Diamantina Drover a real sense of identity, and Nancy's reinterpretation of the traditional lyric of I Wish is both succinct and wistful. Each time I hear Nancy and James I'm reminded afresh of just how good musicians they are, and how intelligently they exploit timbre and phrasing, and Station House contains plenty of Nancy's signature beautifully moulded violin and viola work and James's classy gazouki embellishments: elements which are taken into fresh realms of inspiration by the addition of Robert's personal dimensions of expertise. To develop the title of one of the disc's tunes, the bride has every reason to be smiling, for the end-product is a repeatedly satisfying CD that I definitely expect to see on several award-lists come year-end.
David Kidman May 2008
Early last year, I was sent a Boldwood demo CD, which consisted of just five short instrumental tracks – but what impressive, and abundantly fine, music-making it contained! Now at last we have a full-length disc from Boldwood, which certainly well lives up to expectations. The band originally came about through the enterprise of accordionist Becky Price (who's recorded joint albums with Blowzabella members Jon Swayne and Dave Shepherd, and was also a member of Finality Jack for seven years); the story goes that she was searching for new tunes in the library at Cecil Sharp House and unearthed some long-forgotten manuscripts of English and Welsh tunes mostly from the “golden age” of the 18th century, when classical and “folk.traditional” musical worlds cohabited quite easily, to realise the performance of which she felt the need to form a band specially. She recruited four classically-trained musicians who all had a wealth of experience in, and a deep understanding of, traditional music: three fiddle/viola players (Kate Moran, Richard Heacock, Daniel Wolverson) and harp/guitar player Davide Calvo - who seems since to have departed the fold, his place now having been taken by bouzoukist/guitarist Tim Perkins (from Finality Jack). The result is aurally stunning: a satisfyingly full-toned sound which combines a deft brilliance in the playing with a rich harmonisation of parts, and it's all delivered to your ears with a really fresh and energetic drive that's totally irresistible. To start with, and providing the fulcrum of the Boldwood sound, there's a tremendous, nifty vitality in Becky's own playing, which not so many exponents of her particular type of instrument (the piano accordion) possess. This quality truly complements, and is complemented by, both the unusual musical personality of the whole ensemble and the combined forces of the three fiddles and their distinctive emotional character. So it's dsance music, then, sure - but dance music with a bit of a difference: not a mere soundtrack for a ceilidh, but a valid listening experience in its own right. Perhaps my favourite tracks are the footstomping Three Sea Captains/Seven Stars set, the lusty Barbara Allen/Savage Hornpipe medley, and of the slower items Bold Britain (composed by Dave Shepherd) and the altogether darker-toned, lush, viola-rich closer Hunsdon House, but the whole CD is delightful. You could say that Boldwood's achievement in recording this toe-tapping disc is no mean feet; and they sure won't fail you now!
David Kidman May 2008
The third album from this sort-of-offshoot of Shooglenifty capitalises on the success of their second, 2005's Mongrel Unleashed, by unleashing an arguably even more mongrel menu on the listener. The FSB personnel remains constant, with guitarist Peter Daffy again joined by Shooglenifty members fiddler Angus R. Grant and mandolinist Luke Plumb, and there are contributions from Dave Boyd and fellow-Shooglers Quee MacArthur and James Mackintosh. But now there's an added strand to the instrumentation, ably provided by new recruit, pianist Jamie Jauncey (whose background encompasses running a ceilidh band, a stint of singer/songwriterdom and touring with Peter Sarstedt, as well as being a Birnam sessioneer!). The guys recorded together while Peter was over here in late 2006 for the second FSB tour. I'm amazed that it all still hangs together - but only just...! Once or twice I was reminded of the Holy Modal Rounders in respect of the sheer gleeful wilfulness of the stylistic disparity on display, but the FSB's philosophy is equally admirable and their performances and musicianship are comparable and consistent. The main shift since Mongrel is one of balance, for the new album contains more vocal tracks (here seven out of ten): these range (and what a range!) from covers of Wayfaring Stranger, Hoagy Carmichael's Stardust, Willie Nelson's Angel Flying Too Close To The Ground and the Talking Heads classic Once In A Lifetime (yes, honestly!), to a pair of originals by Peter including Vinyl Man, an affectionate homage to the non-disposable era of recording technology. The instrumental pieces are certainly appealing too: the pick of them for me is Belle Of Benbecula, a brilliant cross between Parisian café swing and “saloon music for a Scottish western”, but Norman Blake's Cairo Waltz is very nicely done and the “sad-eyed” medley drips gentle poignancy. There's serious musical empathy and there's humour too in this ragbag of musics, and as on Mongrel, there's a quirky “you had to be there!” rehearsal segment (here tacked on at the end of Lifetime) which proves that a fun (as well as fun-ky) time was evidently had by all!
David Kidman May 2008
With this sixth volume, the good Mr Hutchings and the Talking Elephant boys reach the end of their “occasional” series of albums updating the English morris dance tradition and extolling its musical glories. This series stretches right back to 1972's seminal Morris On, of course, and the present-day Morris On Band (with its eminently flexible lineup!) contributes both the lead track and the exit processional here. Following which, the disc's hour-long morris parade takes in a goodly selection that comprises traditional pieces (both songs and tunes) and pieces newly composed (generally in the style of the morris). The brief set by Ashley Hutchings and Simon Care for the various participants this time round was to reflect their own experiences and interpretation of morris, and so the results are strongly individual. The musical apparatus ranges from solo and duet squeezers (Saul Rose and Messrs Kirkpatrick and Parkinson aka the Sultans Of Squeeze, respectively), to solo acoustic guitar (the brilliant Ken Nicol) and a multitracked Chris Leslie, here heard at his inventive best on a variety of instruments on his own reflective composition Swaggering Gathering. The aforementioned Saul Rose returns to duet with Eliza Carthy on a pair of tunes, and Show Of Hands perform a Phil Beer tune dedicated to an Exeter women's Cotswold morris side. There's also a prime cut of Minehead Hobby Horse, complete with some gutsy “tribal” drumming, and Rainbow Chaser violinist Ruth Angell presents a gorgeous multitracked take on the Abbots Bromley Horn Dance. Intriguing “oddities” include Jim Moray's racy completion of Black Joak and a brace of rather fun Percy-Grainger-inspired “mock morris” items from the Ric Sanders Group Featuring Vo Fletcher and Michael Gregory, while The Lollipop Man (from the Ducklington Tradition) gets a spirited “committee rewrite” from a team led by Jim Causley. And another bonus: only one track out of the 16 (that by the Gloworms) is taken from an existing release. Creativity, excitement, entertainment and outstanding musicianship - and genuine affection for the morris - are all hallmarks of this collection, which takes the series out on a true high.
David Kidman May 2008
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