A to Z Album and Gig Reviews
Martin Carthy, Martin Simpson, Martin Taylor & Juan Martin - Martins 4 (P3 Music)
The four members of this grouping together cover the major part of the musical spectrum, and it shouldn't need to be said that each one's a highly individual guitar stylist, not only as a leading exponent of music in his particular idiom but also as a skilled instrumentalist per se. Stating the very obvious, Martin Carthy is to English traditional folk music what Martin Simpson is to the delta blues, Martin Taylor to jazz guitar and Juan Martin to flamenco. The rationale of this collaboration between them, and coincidentally its strength, lies in pointing up and exploring the connections between these musical genres. This CD presents excerpts from the collected Martins' touring show, recorded live in Glasgow (presumably some time last year). Fear not then, those of you who might think it's an excuse for an esoteric ego trip by four single-minded and self-absorbed musos; quite the contrary, it's an enticing and thoroughly accessible blending of their talents. You might, however, think it a bit naughty that out of the twelve tracks on the CD, there's only four where all four participants actually come together to lock horns or whatever; the remainder are personal showcases for the individuals (two apiece). But you can't argue that on every single selection the pure excitement generated by the playing is tangible - these musicians aren't mere technicians (a charge that's often unfairly levelled at the jazzers in particular), but exhibit their skills with an abundance of prime musicality.
The four cuts utilising the full "fearsome foursome" do provide most of the highlights of the set, with some superbly imaginative interplay on Glass Of Water and Vuelo in particular, and a wholly credible integration of ostensibly disparate elements like bluesy slide and percussive flamenco on the opening eight-minute La Pasion Del Lamento, but Juan's solo showpiece Evocacion – De Damascus A Cordoba is stunning on any level. Simpson's Jasper Songbird/Spoonful medley is a brilliantly evocative concoction, Taylor's African-inflected piece Kwame/Kiko glitters and sparkles with sprightly rhythmic complexity, and Carthy's Heather Down The Moor has an equally capricious spring in its step. What matter that most if not all of the solo pieces have appeared before on other CDs by these artists, for these new live renditions have a frisson all to themselves. I was going to say "even allowing for the absence of the visual dimension", but I notice an advert on the CD booklet for a DVD of the 4 Martins live at Glasgow's Royal Concert Hall – which may well be an extended edition of the CD I'm reviewing, and if so, then I guess it's another must-have, fine though this CD is.David Kidman
Notorious is the working "band name" for these two musicians when performing as a duo, and refers to their love for Hitchcock films, but in the end this too proves a bit of a MacGuffin, for their reputations by all accounts remain unsullied! Larry's name may be familiar to those readers who are enthusiasts of dance, for he's written over a thousand tunes (mainly fiddle tunes and waltzes) over the past 20+ years and regularly plays for contra, waltz, swing and Scottish dances. As instrumentalist, he's a skilled fingerstyle blues, ragtime and slide guitarist and banjo player; he's accompanied many notable fiddlers including Alasdair Fraser, Matt Glaser and Rodney Miller, and recorded with Ginny Snowe as well as the Reckless Ramblers. But his current musical partnership with Eden appears made in heaven. For Eden is a versatile young violin player from Texas who has her roots in classical music but is readily and eagerly branching out into traditional, oldtime, jazz-swing and world-folk. And she's not a bad singer either, making a fine fist of anything she tackles, from (Working On) The New Railroad (on which she also plays viola) to the old Andrews Sisters hit Bei Mir Bist Du Schön and the blues chestnut Sitting On Top Of The World (where she's ably backed by Larry's National Resonator guitar); what a shame she only gets three vocal outings on the disc! If performing with any lesser musician, Eden's fiery and florid violin pyrotechnics might well threaten to overwhelm the exciting guitar fretwork, but this never happens with Larry and Notorious. Sure, her playing's often somewhat technique-driven, but it always remains primarily musical in its focus and impact. I find the oldtime-flavoured numbers especially scintillating, in fact. Larry's proven compositional skills are spotlighted on around half of the album's tunes, whereas Eden's own compositions (on the evidence of The Watermill and the snappy Schottis Fran Palmer here) are equally inspired, and, like Larry's, authentically idiomatic rather than pastiche. Just occasionally there may be hints that Notorious are just a little restless in their wandersome eclecticism, but any such minor reservation need not concern the listener who's open-minded and keen to embrace a wide range of musical styles especially when they're so sparklingly and engagingly played as they are here.
www.larryunger.net
www.fiddlegarden.net
David Kidman November 2006
Accordionist Mick and fiddler Winifred comprise two-fifths of the dynamic Irish-American band Solas, and here they present a duo album with a difference: emphatically not a disc stuffed full of esoteric twiddly tune-set duets, but instead a mellower, more well-rounded selection that includes a handful of songs amongst the instrumental tracks. Even the latter, though in the majority, are sufficiently lively without being over-showy, and are blessed with interesting arrangements and an admirably clean recording – and superbly solid support from former Solas man Dónal Clancy on guitars and Chico Huff on bass. Multitracking is used creatively, so that Mick gets the chance to accompany his accordion on whistles, keyboards and bodhrán, and Winifred can treat herself to a mini-string section when she feels like it, and even croons along in harmony alongside the melody line (as on the Ballygar Jigs set, track 4). These unusual features give the album its distinctive palette, and while I accept that they won't necessarily be to the taste of yer average lover of purely instrumental virtuoso albums, there's a lot that's appealing about the duo's approach to texture, an elegance and refinement that approaches classicism at times. The individual tracks are well named too: for instance, the Joyous Waltz is just that, with some lovely colourings, and the Peerless Hornpipes set swings like nobody's business. There's sweet, gentle beauty in the title track, although this continuity of mood is milked just a tad too much on Winifred's two rather similar compositions (Little Mona Lisa and A Daisy In December), I feel. But if you still want the old-fashioned empathic virtuosity, the stirring unison playing, well the opening Jug Of Punch set of reels provides that in profusion - what a team! - and The Chorus Reels are suitably fiery too. As for the choice of songs, well Adieu Sweet Lovely Nancy gets a fairly languid reading from Mick, in a singing style which to my mind doesn't really get to the heart of the song's plangency, whereas I quite liked his understated approach to After The Gold Rush (where the emotional thrust is carried more in the instrumental accompaniment), although it misses the original's sense of desperation. The closing track's a simple, tender version of Dylan's To Make You Feel My Love. As a whole, then, it's a disc of mixed fortunes, but its highlights are certainly scintillating.
www.solasmusic.com
www.compassrecords.com
David Kidman, July 2006
Best known as a member of that supremely vital young Irish band Danú, Oisín is also fast gaining the status of one of the finest fiddle players of the new generation, and this, his debut solo album, will definitely cement that reputation. Although, having undergone stints in the fields of classical, bluegrass and newgrass over the years, Oisín feels at home with many musical styles, it's the traditional fiddling style of his native Donegal which inspires and informs his playing more than anything else and is necessarily to the fore on this record (note the double-edge of its title!)… well, at least for much of its length, and undoubtedly providing the majority of the disc's highlights. Oisín has a really impressive strength of rhythmic control in his playing, and his nifty fingerwork never sounds rushed. Technical considerations aside, the spirit of the experimentalism of famed fiddler John Doherty pervades Oisín's own playing too, not least in the way he mixes up different types of tunes within the sets, where he creatively intersperses pieces from the traditions with his own compositions and those of his contemporaries. The opening set of Quebec reels is breathtaking, with some fine guitar accompaniment from Shane McGowan (who plays on just over half of the tracks), and the ensuing set of jigs (the first of the disc's two fabulous, contrasted duets with Ronan Browne's uillean pipes, the other being an epic treatment of the celebrated air King Of The Fairies) is exceptionally well handled, after which there's a really sparkling set mixing barn dance and reels. I don't feel quite so enamoured of some of the later tracks in the eclectic sequence, like the curious set of tunes from the musical theatre (track 7), and there are a couple of pleasant jazzy-newgrass pieces like Oisín's own affectionate portrait Tune For Gillian which (lovely though they are) don't quite fit here I feel. But when Oisín gets back into gear with The Capelhouse/Molloy's jig-set (with Peter Molloy on flute) and the sprightly Scott Skinner variant of Moneymusk, all's well with the world again. I also liked Oisín's take on a pair of tunes by Breton guitarist Gille Le Bigot (with admirable supporting playing from guitarist Tony Byrne and cellist Aongus McAuley), and the set of jigs featuring Peter Browne on button accordion (track 6); and Oisín plays guitar himself on a handful of tracks including the finely-moulded Lover's Ghost air. All told, this is a persuasive solo debut for Oisín, a very good showcase for his exceptional instrumental and arranging skills.
David Kidman April 2007
Following on from Dolly Parton's disappointing set of mildly bluegrassed 60s/70s covers on Those Were The Days (though still worth it to hear her duetting with the artist formerly known as Cat Stevens on Where Do The Children Play), here's another country icon, from a rather younger generation, paying tribute to the songs that went before, including some like Satin Sheets that she used to sing when she was just seven working in her dad's band.
McBride's produced the album herself, insisting on keeping with the nostalgia programme by using only vintage microphones and instruments and recording her vocals live with a small backing band, steel player Paul Franklin well in evidence. Dwight Yoakam stopped by too to add vocals to Harlan Howard's Heartaches By The Number.
Her twangy voice does full justice to the material she's selected while the arrangements remain faithful to, if not the original versions then at least the best known ones. Hence Don Gibson's I Can't Stop Loving You recalls the Ray Charles classic (its Charles's spirit on Take These Chains From My Heart too) while Help Me Make It Through The Night salutes Kristofferson but also the hit recording of Sammi Smith.
With bonus tracks for the UK release, there's 22 jewels from country's crown here, ranging from the C&W retro diamond You Win Again through a gorgeous string backed True Love Ways and Eddy Arnold's Make The World Go Away to Walk On By, Lynn Anderson chestnut Rose Garden and Loretta Lynn's You Ain't Woman Enough.
There's not a duff choice to be found, which makes picking favourites difficult but if push comes to shove then I'd have to nominate its triple punch of tear stained honky tonk ballads Today I Started Loving You Again (another nod to Sammi Smith), Tammy Wynette's 'til I Can Make It On My Own and the duet with Parton on Johnny Cash's I Still Miss Someone. But whatever selection you punch up, this almost as good as listening to the real things.
Mike Davies, April 2006
Mary McBride - By Any Other Name (Reality Entertainment)
Out of Brooklyn by way of Louisiana, actress-playwright-singer-songwriter McBride (her stepbrother's Edward Norton) walks a raunchy, self-assured walk, her twang sassy vocal and rock n rolling approach to her country (Weathervane's intro hints at Creedence while I Got Everything positively boogies) ensuring the album motors along with spark and swagger to complement the pain and passion in her voice and her saltily defiant songs.
She's well served by her collaborators too. Three songs (the guitar ringing title track included) are co-writes with Steve Wynn while elsewhere Georgia Satellites man Dan Baird joins forces for a piano pumping Coming Up Empty and the warbling moody (imagine Dolly if she was Lucinda) storytelling Toll Girl, the pair of them also providing the album's two covers with Wynn's Stones gone Texas strut One-Eyed Dog and Baird's bluesy gospel Bottle & Bible.
And if she tends to favour the whisky n demin honky tonk belters, the gorgeously sad Semi-Star and Black-Eyed Strays amply demonstrate, her well weathered heart handles the quieter aches with panache too. Definitely an album for anyone whose wheels travel Lucinda's gravel road, and besides how can you not admire someone who. On That Was Then, can get a way with the line 'you walked a million miles and you blew a million kisses, you gave a million hugs, I said I'd be your missus'.
Mike Davies
David Kidman August 2007
The McCalmans - Where The Sky Meets The Sea (Greentrax)
Founder member Ian McCalman is the only survivor from the original lineup of this celebrated Scottish folk group, but theirs is still a distinctive, robust and aurally pleasing sound and this new offering is not likely to disappoint. Ian is joined here by "new boy" (well, since 1982!) Nick Keir and "actual new boy" Stephen Quigg, a singer and guitarist, completes the trio (Stephen, a long-standing support act for the McCalmans in his own right, steps in to fill the vacancy created by the untimely death of Derek Moffatt). Former band member Hamish Bayne also augments the sound with concertina on two tracks.
This latest album has as its main focus a trio of fine new "travelogue-style" songs inspired by the group's annual Highland tours – one by Ian, two by Nick – and a handful of affectionate interpretations of other songs on a similarly elegiac themes (Gordon Menzies' Voice Of My Island, Campbell Dunn's Fishing Days, Enoch Kent's Farm Auction, and a sensibly judged unaccompanied version of Andy Barnes' Last Leviathan). These are topped up with some rousing traditional fare (Gallant Murray and Rise Rise), Sheena Wellington's Women Of Dundee, and a set of tunes and a curiously unengaging, illogically staccato rendition of Richard Thompson's Galway To Graceland that for me is totally out of place and the album's only failure.
Some listeners may also be surprised that what might be considered the album's "title track" (Come By The Hills) doesn't make an appearance here. But it should go without saying that if you enjoy this kind of unassuming, accomplished, old-fashioned (but so what? – it's also timeless) quality Scottish folk music, then this lovely album is for you.
David Kidman
Dave McCann and the Ten Toed Frogs - Country Medicine (Own Label)
It's not that Canadian Dave McCann doesn't care about his music, every note, melody and lyric on this album screams otherwise. It's just that he comes across as the kind of man who doesn't compromise a whole lot. He makes his music and you can take it or leave it, mind you you'd be a fool to leave it. With a little tweaking and a little dumbing down, several of the tracks on Country Medicine would fit easily into the repertoire of any of the 'Shanias' of this world and guarantee a life of luxury for McCann into the bargain. Believe me he's a writer who knows how to put words and music together in a very entertaining way.
His 'problem' is that he demands so much more of his songs than they are just pleasing on the ear. You can smell the woodsmoke and fresh air on Country Medicine. It's not a 'raw' album as such but it is firmly rooted in real life. When he sings Leaving This Town there is absolutely no doubt that he has suffered the pain.
McCann has discovered the perfect blend on Country Medicine. Depending on your starting point, it's rock influenced country or vice versa. Brokenwing Bird is the kind of band track that is instantly a fans' favourite, while Joe's Bones has a solitary darkness that makes it unforgettable.
The effect of the album is a cumulative one, each track adds something a little different to the experience. None overshadows the other and certainly none are superfluous.
If there are standout tracks then it is comes down to personal choice. For me Sleeping With Ghosts is as close to the complete 'Americana' track as you can get, driving hard but full of honest feeling. Cocaine Stole is a runaway train of a song and to round things off there is an affectionate cover of Jethro Tull's Locomotive Breath. You're never going to get consensus about songs as good as this.
There's even the added bonus of an unlisted song at the end. It still mystifies me why they do that. Why not credit the track and make it 13 great songs instead of 12? It can't be superstition can it? Now that would be ironic because the one thing Country Medicine will not rely on is luck. In the midst of all this wonderful country rock, it would be too easy to overlook the contribution of the exotically named Ten Toed Frogs. To say that they aid and abet McCann in his envdeavours would be to suggest a supporting role. Forget it, Dave Bauer, Mel Smith, Sandy Switzer, Danny Patton, Ross Watson, Jake Peters, Jenny Allen and Gary Kurtz are the reason that Country Medicine is as good as it is.
There may seem to be a cast of thousands but their contribution is vital to an album that is the perfect antidote to the plastic world in which most of us live.
Michael Mee
Debby's latest release is a delicious compendium based round a theme that's been close to her heart for many, many years. Subtitled The Legacy Of Charlie Poole, this lovely collection centres round a clutch of (nine) songs that Charlie and his North Carolina Ramblers popularised in the late 20s, supplementing these with other songs from that era. The latter category brings together material that might well have been important to Charlie: songs of mill-workers, vaudeville and traditional jazz pieces not covered by him, and also a mountain ballad possibly sung at his time. Fittingly, Debby can be seen as a true heir to Charlie's legacy, for, like Charlie and his Ramblers, Debby takes all these (seemingly disparate) types of material and presents them in what's very much an old-time mountain style, principally to the accompaniment of her own banjo and/or guitar (and here, on a small handful of tracks, the harmonica of our old buddy Dave Peabody). And remember that Charlie's Ramblers were originally mill-workers from what is now Eden, North Carolina, and so no doubt they would have known and appreciated the Dixon Brothers' Weave Room Blues, which Debby covers on this CD (the opening snatch of melody of which rather intriguingly bears exceeding-close resemblance to D-Day Dodgers!). But as I said at the outset, although it's the songs associated with Charlie himself that form the heart of this collection, Debby has managed to achieve a striking and satisfying sense of unity by dint of her deeply affectionate and genuinely loving interpretations of the material, characterised by an intensity of commitment and true respect both for her sources and her audience. Some of the choices (eg Vandy Vandy, Carolina Mountain Home and Sail Away Ladies) have been in Debby's live repertoire for some considerable time, yet she clearly never grows tired of singing them, for there's a wonderful quality of freshness to these new recordings. Several of the uptempo songs (like Chesapeake Bay, Leaving Home and It's Movin' Day) are delectable creations, with quite fiendish choruses that tax the memory but in an insidiously catchy manner, and Debby conveys their essence with gusto (just you catch that wickedly gleeful chuckle in her voice on You Ain't Talking To Me!). However, it's clear too that Debby relishes singing these every bit as much as she does the more poignant items such as The Letter That Never Came, where she expresses the requisite emotions so very naturally and tellingly; Debby's unaccompanied rendition of Sweet Sunny South is another highlight of the CD, extremely moving. Having concentrated thus far on the songs and Debby's singing of them, I mustn't neglect to stress also that Debby's banjo frailing is, as ever, exemplary, and its contribution to the appeal (and authenticity) of the whole album should not be underestimated. This is a totally charming and self-recommending release.
David Kidman, June 2006
Debby McClatchy - Chestnut Ridge (Trail's End)
www.debbymcclatchy.com
www.emergingmusic.co.uk
David Kidman
In the 1980's, I had a few weeks in Dallas which has been part of the Texan stamping ground of Delbert McClinton for many a year. Even back then, it seemed like he'd been around forever. If my memory serves me right, he opened up for The Stones as well as playing every beer joint in the state. Though the picture in the sleeve notes is a bit of a pose with Delbert in the centre of a group photo that includes Steve Earle, Emmylou Harris, Guy Clark, Butch Hancock, Jimmie Dale Gilmore and other luminaries, it shows his place in Texan folklore is established.
It is great to report that his new release, Room To Breathe, has him sounding fresh as a daisy. As the opening Same Kind Of Crazy cranks up, you know that this is a bunch of musicians honed to perfection on a live circuit. As well as the up beat stuff, they can take it down low with the smouldering funk and tasty brass section of Jungle Room. The Rub with its cheesy organ, horns, southern soul and wit to boot is worth the price of entrance alone.
Mind you, it's not all Lone Star magic. For example, I struggle with a track like Blues About You Baby as it sounds too derivative for me – the Texan answer to Status Quo. Nevertheless, there is enough here to warrant your attention if you've not heard of him before. A set of good McClinton compositions and a production that captures the frisson of a live show makes a good memento of the man and his music.
Steve Henderson
This album is classic in both senses - for it's a classic recording of some classic traditional folk ballads. First issued in 1961, it became a seminal part of folks' collections in no time at all, and it was here that many 60s folk revivalists first heard these songs in any form. Think of the performances herein as templates, source recordings if you like, from which (no doubt) folks like Pentangle got I Loved A Lass and Sandy Denny got Banks Of The Nile. Done to a simple guitar and/or banjo accompaniment, these recordings might now be termed a tad primitive, but such is the sincere and wholly authoritative power of the singers' interpretations that little else matters, for they are "doing their job" - ie. actually communicating the songs, their essence and their story. More than that, actually, as you'll hear. (Of course, there were eyebrows raised at first at the idea of Peggy and her Appalachian-style banjo tackling some of the Scots ballads, but remember the British roots of these songs stretched far and wide into the States. ) As well as the noted tales of love lost and won, including some prime examples from the Child collection (The Gardener Chyld, Hughie Grame, The Elfin Knight), many incorporating a supernatural theme, there's some lesser-known Scottish folk poetry too; and it's not all gloom, doom and murder by any means, as the deliciously ribald The Maid Gaed To The Hill, the bothy song The Monymusk Lads and the spirited Jacobite song Aikendrum all demonstrate. These performances really do stand the test of time, and how! For the overwhelmingly confident and convincing interpretations work to provide a riveting listen that's rarely matched in modern reinterpretations of the material. Ewan's authentic delivery in the natural dialect is well complemented by Peggy's lovely harmony singing, although his voice spinetinglingly commands your attention on its own at all times. The presentation of this reissue is exemplary too, with the extensive original liner notes printed in full within the booklet and original cover art faithfully reproduced too. Don't hesitate to get this splendid reissue in your collection, it really is one of the finest examples of its kind.
David Kidman January 2007
This disc is a straightforward reissue of a late-50s album that is at once a classic and a curiosity. It's a classic because it presents two of the greatest interpreters of folksong in their prime, on fine form singing a collection of songs and shanties from the maritime tradition, whereas it's a curiosity because it presents the pieces in a style of interpretation which – at any rate in the maritime repertoire - has by now to a large extent passed out of performance tradition (what we nowadays get is mostly polarised between on one hand the intentionally authentic rendition and on the other hand the bland "tourist" version). What is important to realise it that on this disc Ewan and Bert brought to the attention of general folk music enthusiasts a whole sub-genre of song which had not previously had wide currency outside of the maritime specialist coterie. Ewan's erudite liner note, which is reproduced in full here, explains and details the various types of song included here - principally shanties and forebitters - and the recordings include an almost equal quotient of each. Generally speaking, the shanties are performed acappella, and at a credible speed (and in a rough-and-tumble manner) that conforms to their function as worksongs; these may sound primitive, but that's absolutely as it should be - no sanitised jolly-mariners renditions here! The forebitters (songs sung by sailors "to embellish their leisure time"), which include variants of broadside ballads on seafaring subjects, love and romance, are performed with a modicum of instrumental accompaniment - here courtesy of Alf Edwards (concertina), Ralph Rinzler (mandolin, guitar and banjo) and the trusty Steve Benbow (guitar). Any occasional stiltedness is more than compensated for by the authoritative nature of the singing. The CD transfer is mostly excellent, although I did note some tape-flutter on Do Me Ama. For those who only know the likes of South Australia and Whup Jamboree from the rather "safe" pub-singalong Spinners versions, going back to these lustier, rougher renditions will be a breath of fresh sea-air. Another important reissue.
David Kidman January 2007
Brought up in the Black Isle, leading young fiddle player Lauren won the BBC Radio 2 Young Folk Award in 2004/5; she went on to study at the RSAMD, then played with the band Dochas, but more recently has built up a good live reputation in appearances with her own trio lineup (in which she's joined by guitarist Barry Reid and pianist James Ross), most notably from all accounts at this year's Celtic Connections. She was granted a Dewar Arts Award to fund the recording of her debut CD, and now here's the result at long last: producer Chris Stout (of Fiddlers' Bid) has ensured that it's both an accurate portrait and a persuasive showcase for Lauren's spellbinding technique and winning musical personality. Lauren coaxes a sweet and lyrical tone from her fiddle, yet there's also a gritty burr to her rhythmic input and a keen sense of playful syncopation. She gets ample opportunity to demonstrate all these qualities on the CD, which moves through a well-contrasted selection of tune-sets interspersed with the occasional slow air; and like an increasing number of young fiddlers, she's heard to derive much inspiration from the pipe tune repertoire. Angus MacDonald's 9/8 pipe march Tianavaig sets the pace, Lauren giving this an unhurried rendition with jerky Scotch snaps that become progressively more urgent before the faster strathspey snaps in to introduce the final reel. Lauren's grasp of contrasting rhythms is very sure, and the irregular metrical feet of Lochaber Dance don't trip her bow! The disc's three individual slow airs are most beautifully played, and Allan MacDonald's tune The Seventh Wave forms a fitting farewell, but The Earl Of Jura (learnt from the singing of Mary Ann Kennedy) has a really special quality of starkness, an intensity that I find extra-beguiling. As well as a host of traditional pieces and some by James Scott Skinner (the track 7 set) Lauren also performs a handful of her own compositions, of which the delightfully evocative title track and its companion piece (dedicated to box player Mairearad Green) are highlights - but then the jig inspired by Inverness fiddler Graham Mackenzie is a particularly nifty essay too. I really love Lauren's style (graceful and uplifting), and I strongly admire her musicality, her gift for controlled phrasing and her innate sense of just how to sequence different tempos to form a credible set. The support she gains from Barry and James (as well as guest button-accordionist Luke Daniels on three of the album's eleven tracks) is both skilled and unobtrusive, always sympathetically contoured to enable Lauren to give of her best. Lauren has clearly landed on her feet here, and this sparkling debut disc should win her many friends.
David Kidman June 2007
This fabulous musician just gets better and better it seems - and every record he makes represents a significant step forward in at least one aspect. But Tommy On Song, a natural followup to Tommy On The Bridge, both chooses to emphasise how great a singer Tom is (in addition to his proven fiddle skills), and highlights just how much Tom's past couple of years playing and touring with those vibrant and immensely gifted young musicians Claire Mann and Aaron Jones has galvanised his already fertile musical imagination onto a higher plane. So how could they not appear on Tom's latest solo album? - and a tremendous contribution they make too, providing so much in the way of unassumingly inventive detail, paying such careful attention to integrating dynamics and responsiveness within the overall texture. And once again, how abundantly well Tom's chosen sound engineer Ron Angus has captured the musical personalities of all the participants and the special nuances they bring to their playing.
The usual hallmarks of Tom's own music-making are present too in all their glory: the deeply expressive bowing, just like another human voice in its telling contours when it ventures its gorgeous swooping harmonies in counterpoint with his singing, as here on Phil Ochs' When I'm Gone (set aside yer average, decidedly flat cover, this one really penetrates its inspirational core). Now however well I think I have the measure of Tom, there are almost always surprises in store within his choice of songs on each new CD, and this set proves no exception. It opens in splendidly energetic mode with a robust and exhilarating portrayal of the itinerant Geordie working man (Mark Knopfler's Why Aye, Man) that's so exuberant I kept expecting it to break into Rawhide! This highlights an interesting development in Tom's singing since his last CD (or maybe it's just the choice of songs?), whereby his vocal delivery seems altogether tougher and more forthright and instead of concentrating on maintaining an even, keening flow of melody line he now also at times employs some more exaggerated gestures, often semi-spoken, for expressive effect. This shift continues through the new CD, more noticeable on the racier songs like Jez Lowe's The Net Me Father Left Me. But there are key moments of lyricism and resilience-in-repose too, with Kieran Halpin's fine Azalea and the rarely-heard, intensely beautiful Allan Taylor song Firefly. And I need to credit some lovely harmony vocal contributions (on several tracks), courtesy of Sally Johnson as well as Claire and Aaron.
No CD of Tom's would be complete without a scattering of instrumental tracks, and here we can marvel at the freewheeling flamboyance Tom brings to the Gateshead Hornpipe, a tune he's known forever and knows just what he can do with in the space of a mere couple of minutes - and yet the spontaneity he conveys is miraculous. As is the delightful little cajun-style waltz Tom wrote for the grandson of his violin-maker, the late Mick Johnson. And again, Tom's facility of combining songs with appropriate tunes works wonders elsewhere: reminiscences of session tunes are woven through his fitting rendition of All The Tunes In The World, then he reaches a zenith on the disc's finale, where he so captivatingly caps Archie Fisher's poignant and knowing Fiddle Farewell with a memorial tune by Jerry Holland (although I do hope that this song, with its heavenly choir of fiddle tones, isn't to be taken literally, in the sense of signalling that Tom's ready to hang up his bow and retire his fiddle in its case). I suspect there'll be ne'er a dry eye in the house at the close of this disc. Jeez, man, it's good. No - seriously sublime.
David Kidman August 2008
Tom's latest solo venture finds our fab folk fiddler in fine fettle (forgive this feckless fabrication of F-words!). And it's a faultless portrayal of the essence of the man and his playing, right enough. Here's the man with the abundance of joie-de-vivre, at his most happy when playing his fiddle, and there he is on the front cover with a big grin right across his face – that's Tom to a T! Generous to a fault, he's sharing his sheer delight in the music-making with you for over 50 minutes on a great sequence of tunes and songs that gives us a true measure of the man's good taste and suit him down to the ground. These incorporate one or two we've got used to hearing from Tom in his live sets - like the good Mr Thompson's Beeswing - and also include quite a few that I'd not heard before and that may well be new to his repertoire, but he plays them all as if he's got them in his blood, such is his abundantly natural vivacity. Amidst all the natural excitement, there's loads of variety in pace and mood, with two brilliant sets of hornpipes (notably the set that kicks off with James Hill's Beeswing Hornpipe, on which Tom goes into twin-fiddlin' mode along with Peter Tickell, closing the disc in stunning form), tune-sets that spicily combine old favourites with sparkling new treatments (like the Willie Hunter/Byron Berline medley on track 6), and at the other end of the scale, a beautiful and intimate waltz from the pen of Cape Breton fiddler Jerry Holland (Boo Baby's Lullaby) and a lovely Scott-Skinner tune Bovaglie's Plaid. The songs (a ratio of one in three of the fifteen tracks) contain some real pearls too: a superb rendition of Mary And The Soldier, the captivatingly "folky" Allan Taylor song (Fiddler John), Ian Campbell's intriguing, rousing Patrick Pearse, yet the pick of the bunch is definitely Billy Mitchell's wonderful portrait of a Tyneside miner 1915-1975 (written for his dad, it turns out). Accompaniment-wise, Tom bridges his fiddle and bonhomie most attractively on this disc by virtue of the good company of a handful of talented fellow musos. There's Aaron Jones (of Old Blind Dogs) on guitar and bouzouki (and sharing the producer's chair with Tom himself, incidentally), also ace bodhránist Ciaran Boyle (who's shortly to go on tour with Last Night's Fun), David Wood (guitar), Kevin McGuire (double-bass) and the award-winning Claire Mann (whistles). Engineering is superb too: it's a typically crisp and clean Ron Angus production, with a totally believable perspective at all times and, as I said, admirably capturing "the real McConville", the joyous and generous spirit of the man and the sessions. And I love the canny multi-resonances of the CD title too; more power to Tom's elbow, I say!
David Kidman
This gorgeous (and long-awaited, I tell ye!) new solo album from Tom McConville is a real treat, a masterpiece of genial understatement that also contains (almost by the by!) some fearsomely fine playing and singing. Five of the twelve tracks are purely instrumental, and these mostly feature Tom backed by the excellent guitarist Frank Kilkelly. Just a few tracks also employ one or two additional musicians, but when these are as well-chosen as Christine Hanson (cello, specially lovely on the opening track), Aaron Jones (cittern), Norman Holmes (flute) and Dave Wood (guitar), then who's complaining? Some of the tunes are also selectively multitracked, but without any of the unfortunate sense of over-egging that can so readily spoil such a good idea on any similar project. That opening (title) track I mentioned just now is a beautiful waltz that Tom wrote for his fiddle-maker (the late Mick Johnson, to whom the whole CD is movingly dedicated), a tune whose charms are an ideal indication of the delights to follow - a delicious melody allied to a pure and deeply felt yet unhurried sense of rhythm and a distinct relish in the communication of the tune to the listener. There are some surprises too - for instance the curious irregularities in rhythm of the brilliant Splendid Isolation reels, giving them an attractively ragged ambience. It goes without saying that Tom acquits himself honourably on all the tune sets here, but if anything they're eclipsed by Tom's choice of songs (all performed in that inimitable, immensely charming manner of his), which proves every bit as enterprising and tasteful as ever. Steve Tilston's Rocky Road (complete with tune-chaser) and Bill Staines' Roseville Fair (which has been a favourite in Tom's live sets for more years than I can remember!) sit easily alongside traditional material like the not-so-often-heard Young And Foolish (which Tom learnt from Len Graham) and Tom's superbly different new treatment of The Holy Ground (distant shores away from the manic pub-folk tub-thumper we know and hate). To close I must mention that the CD's production, by Norman Holmes, is extremely sympathetic, and warmly captures the essence of Tom the gentle genius - OK, maybe with not quite the same degree of intense magic with which Tom glows in the live setting, but there's no disputing that Norman's done the best possible job here and the listening experience is decidedly enriching.
David Kidman
This release begins deceptively simply, with Alyth's spine-tingling, beautifully fragile unaccompanied vocal breathing life into the traditional Gaelic song MhicShiridh; thereafter, a further eleven songs are given a more ambitious treatment by producer Jim Sutherland which encompasses some particularly cool instrumental work and on some tracks a greater degree of programmed percussion; this does not swamp the singing, however, being intelligently conceived and delicately layered to reflect and counterpoint both the ebb and flow of the texts and the heart-stopping textural delicacy of Alyth's voice.
Instrumentalists appearing here include Aidan O'Rourke, Mary MacMaster, Rory Campbell, Davey Trouton, Neil Harland and Kevin Mackenzie, and their contributions are all faithfully captured by the excellently clear recording (the only, minor flaw being the overly close balance given to the piano at times). The arrangements are actually quite unusual, with deft and sparky rhythmic twists and turns, and worlds away from the thick, washy Celtic mush of some latterday fusion music. Take the strident fiddle work on A Fhleasgaich Óig, and the thumping piano dissonances on Ó Mo Dhúthaich, contrasted with the smooth, dark cello lines on Dheannain Súgradh, and the apt use of electronic sounds on the downright scary closer MacCrimmon.
One unforgivable omission, however, which devalues the total package somewhat, is some notes on, or at the very least a summary of the texts of, the songs. But aurally, this is a really mesmerising album that deserves many repeated plays at close listening quarters.
www.alyth.com
www.verticalrecords.co.uk
David Kidman
If you've already encountered Manchester-born Jenny, you may be as confused as I was to read that English Country Garden is being promoted as her debut CD. This is, however, blatantly not the case, for I recall that around two years ago I reviewed (for The Living Tradition magazine, as it happens) a more than promising CD by Jenny entitled Me, I Prefer The Moon. That disc contained, along with its self-penned title track, at least three other songs which also crop up on English Country Garden (though I've not yet been able to check whether the actual recordings are identical as I can't lay my hands on the earlier CD just at the moment!).
However, having got that misconception-cum-deception out of the way, what we have with English Country Garden is a truly delightful disc, one that tends to underplay the Kate-Rusby-soundalike angle and concentrate more on Jenny's own special qualities. (Actually, the more I think about it, the more I suspect that following comments I made in the original review Jenny's had a rethink, done some more recording that more strongly forges her own identity, and has now gotten re-branded.)
Even so, hearing her own composition Don't Be Cruel, you could be easily forgiven for believing that Jenny has fully embraced Kate Rusby as her role model – such is the "dead ringer" impression created by her pure-toned and youthful vocal inflections and "regional accent" vowel sounds, the simple chordal phrasing of her strummed guitar style and the wandering, floating slow-waltz tempo of the song itself. But to dismiss Jenny as a Rusby clone would be immensely unfair, and unfortunate in the extreme, for she has many more individual facets to her talent, not least her personable songwriting. Indeed, the very title of this new CD turns out to be a peculiarly accurate indication of where Jenny's at, for it's not a namecheck for the slightly twee dance tune and song of that name but a clever portrayal of Jenny's musical sensibilities, her dual empathy with traditional English folk song and country music of the backwoods-garden kind (tho' I find she's been compared to both Anne Briggs and Lucinda Williams, with shades of Kathryn Williams hanging out in the background!). Jenny's singing voice is a breathy, ostensibly fragile timbre that belies its latent expressive potential, especially for conveying a gently melancholy quality. On this album, Jenny intersperses some striking personal reworkings of four traditional songs with seven of her own haunting compositions; of the former, her take on Blackwater Side is particularly original and compelling, but I also really liked her interpretation of Go From My Window (which opens the disc), even if in comparison her House Carpenter maybe underplays the drama of the ballad to some extent. Jenny's own songwriting activity has resulted in some enchanting compositions which in their poetic expressivity reflect her ambition to be a writer: The Fisherboy is directly inspired by traditional sources, but the remainder are more tellingly personal, purveying a healthy optimism in the face of often quite desperate emotional crises and states. The album was recorded simply and effectively at home (another point of comparison with Ms Rusby and her clan, but we shouldn't do anything but note that in passing), but it sounds great – intimate and immediate. I understand that the fine supporting musician Kevin McCormick (mandolin and guitar) is Jenny's father, but the disc also contains some exceptional double bass playing from Jon Thorne and Stuart Eastham, with banjo and harmonica on a couple of tracks courtesy of Tom Barnes, piano by Rob Fowler and percussion by Paddy Steer. There's just one minor aspect of the recording that still troubles me a little, and I can't be sure of my ground since I've not yet managed to see Jenny perform live; it's a concern that I noted in my earlier review, whereby on record at least (and more noticeably on some tracks than others), her voice seems to possess a slightly artificial (treated?) "girly" timbre. But that aside, all in all this CD is a very persuasive advocate for Jenny as an individual emerging talent.
David Kidman January 2008
Del McCoury - High Lonesome & Blue (Rounder Heritage)
One of the latest instalments in Rounder's ongoing thirty-part Heritage series concentrates on a true cornerstone of the bluegrass scene, the celebrated singer (and no mean guitar player) Del McCoury. There's no denying that Del, perennial winner of IBMA awards and recent Grand Ol' Opry inductee, is the possessor of one of the most soulful voices in bluegrass today. This compilation gathers together no less than 16 of his definitive recordings made for the Rounder label between 1987 and 1996, at a time when Del was on the cusp of his now burgeoning popularity with audiences within bluegrass, country and rock. Del's joint album with brother Jerry (1987's McCoury Brothers) is the origin of three of the cuts on this compilation, whereas Del's four subsequent 90s solo albums for Rounder are sourced more or less evenly – four tracks apiece from Blue Side Of Town and Don't Stop The Music, three from A Deeper Shade Of Blue and just two from the latest, Cold Hard Facts. Having said that, Del's career with Rounder actually began with the landmark album High On A Mountain, released way back in 1972; although no tracks from that debut are included here, the version of its title track which Del re-recorded for 1992's Blue Side Of Town appears here instead. These really are classic performances, and every song's a great one; among the musts for inclusion on any compilation featuring Del are his own I Feel The Blues Moving In, which has become a session favourite and recorded by all manner of artists from Slaid Cleaves to the Parton/Harris/Ronstadt "trio" to the Cox Family, and Del's first tryout of a Steve Earle number (If You Need A Fool), seven whole years before his high-profile collaboration The Mountain. Del's expertise with typical lively, snappy treatments is well known, but his versatility outside of hoedown-tempo and medium-fast workouts is demonstrated on the altogether slower Old Memories Mean Nothing To Me. But in tandem with Del's own artistry, this compilation can't help but focus also on the contributions made by his brothers Rob, Ronnie and Jerry, and the natural empathy he achieves with all other band members. You can't put a foot wrong with this collection, a great introduction to Del. Essential bluegrass, sure!
David Kidman
A favourite of both Bob Harris and Lucinda Williams, the Sidney born, LA based singer-songwriter and mean slide guitarist follows 2004's stupendous Roll with an album that effortlessly takes her to the next level.
Featuring appearances from Williams, John Doe, Jim Lauderdale and Nancy Wilson, it's informed by both her love of early 70s music (As The Crow Flies could have come from a Crazy Horse session) and the collapsing state of the modern world.
Opening with the swampy strutting raunch of Driving Down Alvarado ("take me down to the place where the monsters graze" she sings as guitars wail behind her), she switches musical moods for From Bakersfield To Saigon, a horny country journey that welds sex and an implied vein of politics. Then, just to pack another punch, along comes Any Minute Now feeding on the apocalyptic paranoia and anxiety that curdle in the blood of All Along The Watchtower and Gimme Shelter and pressing them into a Motown groove.
Expanding the last album''s guitar based trio with Carl Byron's keyboards adding muscle and texture to the solid Texan rhythm section of Dusty Wakeman and Dave Raven, she crafts a full and brooding musical landscape. One across which roam such disturbing numbers as Jesus's Blood with its bitter attack on a curdled Catholicism and cases of paedophilia rumbling through an almost madrigal setting.
It's not all so heavy or musically intense. The gently acoustic, tenderly passionate love song Coming To You, a pure voiced backwoods hymnal Shivers ("take me back to the source of this flame"), the bluegrass slow rolling Bright Light of Day (a reverie coming home after a night with her lover), the gloriously full-blooded poppy Lay Me Down and even the Lucinda and Beatles flavoured bittersweet Sweet Burden of Youth all glimmer with the light of hope.
Closing up with the twangy guitar instrumental title track and its images of neon washed night streets and stories of love and hurt, loss and salvation behind stained windows, it marks a major leap forward for an artist rapidly earning a reputation as one of the finest new voices of the present century.
Mike Davies, August 2006
Anne McCue - Roll (Cooking Vinyl)
A declared favourite of both Bob Harris and Lucinda Williams, singer-songwriter and a mean slide guitarist to boot McCue is Americana by way of Sydney, Australia and a musical upbringing that embraced such diversity as Erik Satie and Nick Cave. A stint on the Lilith Fair tours saw her relocate to LA, notching up tour supports with such luminaries as Williams, Richard Thompson and Dave Alvin.
Having released the pop flavoured debut Amazing Ordinary Things and a live album recorded at San Francisco's legendary Fillmore on the Williams tour, she now steps up a level with this cocktail of Delta inclined country/folk blues n rock that embraces influences that run the gamut from The Byrds (Stupid) and Lucinda (Crazy Beautiful Child) to Zeppelin/Robert Johnson (Hangman), Patti Smith (the venomous Ghandi) and Hendrix whose Machine Gun she covers in a nine minute one take burst of blistering, vitriolic guitar.
Her folk leanings surface gently on the leafily scuffed, sun hazed Milkman's Daughter while the spare broken-hearted bruise of 50 Dollar Whore points up those formative Beatles influences and the opening I Want You Back (which lyric checks the opening line of High Noon) is probably the closest she gets to guitar riding alt-country, but mostly this is an album dominated by bluesy riffs as tough-minded as lyrics spawned from a fair few car wreck romances. Despite the ballads, you get the feeling that it's raunch that characterises her live shows and, impressive as the album is that's probably where she really hits home, though with several numbers already clocking in well past the five minute mark it's to be hoped that she's not prone to extended jams.
Mike Davies
Anne McCue - Amazing Ordinary Things (Relentless)
Born in Sydney Australia but now based in L.A, McCue's already notched up a notable CV that includes being featured on Dawson's Creek, touring as part of the 98 Lilith Fair and spending a year playing in Ho Chi Minh city. Released a couple of years back but only just findings it way to the UK (she's since released, Ballad of an Outlaw Woman, a live CD of her 2002 tour with Lucinda Williams that features a clutch of new material), her debut album covers an arc between the sort of folksy and more middle of the road pop associated with the likes of Shawn Colvin, The Sundays and Eddi Reader while showing a flavouring of Emmylou country between the lines and on My Only One, a splash of percussive jazz rhythms and gypsy guitar..
She plays her most melodically commercial cards from the start with Motherlode, a love song to, well, her mother I guess, that builds from the sound of crickets into a gently summery rolling lilt, and the janglingly chorus hook of Angel Inside, produced by Larry Klein. Not that the rest are in any way also rans. There's bruised and fragile like These Things, a naked acoustic guitar and mournful violin tale of being picked up, thrown away and left emotionally soiled and desolate, introduces Eastern textures, Desert in the Rain begins with pizzicato strings before a tough guitar riff takes over, Waiting For The Sun shades to 70s progrock pop while you have to check the credits on Always (another lost love number, "You used to do the things I do, You and me, we used to be, great company.") to make sure it isn't some Paul Simon song you'd forgotten. Mid way through she drops in a live cut, a torchy folky Love We Made washed with late night sax and the ghost perhaps of early Nyro, that shows she can weave the magic in front of an audience as well as a studio engineer. Not yet truly amazing perhaps, but well beyond the realms of the ordinary.
Mike Davies
Alistair's impressive CV includes winning the Scottish National Fiddle Championship in three not-quite-successive years in the early 90s, and a stint as a member of "supergroup" Cantarach; for the past ten years he's led the Ayrshire-based band Coila. Alistair's earlier solo album for Fellside, Highly Strung, was one of those exceedingly accomplished offerings that just demanded an immediate encore, yet only now has Wired Up finally hit the racks. Do I hear complaints from puzzled Marx Brothers fans here? For it isn't quite a natural followup, because although it certainly continues the trend of showcasing Alistair's considerable skills as an instrumentalist, the range of its repertoire is far narrower, concentrating this time round much more on a mixture of Scottish material and Alistair's own compositions. These blend very naturally and instinctively, and make for a beautifully paced listening experience. Perhaps Alistair's special strength as a musician lies in combining an easy virtuosity with a true gift for bringing out the melody lines - you might feel that nowhere is this more apparent than in the slow airs like Sarah's Song (composed by Phil Cunningham) and Alistair's own Hazelwood, the former especially displaying a supreme degree of almost classical restraint and poise, but I hear it even more in the sprightliness with which Alistair commands the various sets of faster tunes. His purely solo rendition of the Hanged Man's Reel at the end of the CD is striking for its control and musicality (where so many performers lose grip in trying to rush and impress). There's no lack of drive in the rest of the tracks either; these feature, variously, Alistair backed expertly by pianist Morag Macaskill (his accompanist at championships), fellow-Cantarach member Angus Lyon on accordion and keyboards, erstwhile Capercaillie colleague Marc Duff on whistles and veteran of many lineups Aaron Jones on bouzouki and guitar, among others. The set of reels forming track 5 in particular storms along like nobody's business, culminating in a whirlwind version of Amy Wood's modern classic Catharsis that's only marred by the decision to fade! This fine selection should appeal equally to fiddle fanciers and those who just love good tunes well played and simply but effectively arranged.
David Kidman
John McCusker et al. - Billy Connolly's Musical Tour Of New Zealand (Pure Records)
You'll remember John McCusker's soundtrack to the movie Heartlands from just a short while back, so you'll have an idea what to expect here – a well-crafted original score heavily steeped in traditional Celtic music, superbly played by his favourite musicians (all the "usual suspects" in fact – fellow Rusby Band members Ian Carr, Andy Cutting and Michael McGoldrick, plus Phil Cunningham, John Doyle, Ewan Vernal, James Mackintosh, Kris Drever, Andy Seward), with isolated appearances from Kate Rusby, Eddi Reader and (inevitably) the larger-than-life Big Yin himself. Most of the music is in the gently relaxed session-style warmup mode, making for pleasant and pleasing listening – nothing challenging or groundbreaking, just some classy tunes (I'd hesitate to use the word "nice" in this context!) well-played in perfectly judged, generally understated acoustic settings. Tasteful in all the right ways, in other words. The (non-instrumental) exceptions are a lovely new Rusby song, Wandering Soul, and the closing Pokarekare Ana (a tantalising mere fragment of a traditional Maori song sung by Billy C himself). It's good that folks tuning in to the TV series are being exposed to top-quality acoustic musicianship and largely unobtrusive music of the "right" kind, instead of the over-intrusive computer-generated pap that passes for incidental music on most documentaries nowadays. Alright, the individual pieces might have been named a little more imaginatively (Billy's Fast Waltz, Billy's Slow Waltz, Billy's Jig, Billy's Slow Air and so on…!), but hey, we don't really mind McCusker and his mates being this ubiquitous now, do we? In the end, Billy's quotation from the inside of the box tray is the credo for enjoying this relaxing CD: "Learn to let go. That is the key to happiness."
www.billyconnolly.comDavid Kidman
John McCusker - Goodnight Ginger (Pure)
Ex-Battlefield Band member of 11 years' standing, then unashamedly ubiquitous and constantly-in-demand session and guest musician, and now Kate Rusby's husby and integral member of her band – what a CV! – and John's still only 29! Goodnight Ginger is John's third solo album, taking his unassuming virtuosity a stage further still. On 2000's Yella Hoose, John cemented his reputation as a consummate instrumentalist (fiddle, whistles, cittern) and amply demonstrated the respect in which he's held by fellow-musicians (the album's guest-list was formidable) on a bunch of surprisingly lyrical self-composed tune-sets.
These qualities are all again present in spades on Goodnight Ginger, as is the healthy roster of guest musicians (over a dozen in number), but John's own musical identity is still retained at all costs, never subjugated to the demands or egos of those more famous. Eleven of the album's twelve tracks are instrumental, and again predominantly John's own compositions (the majority of the remainder are his arrangements of traditional tunes) and for the listener it's much like sitting in on a session involving a load of mates who all just happen to be brilliant yet intuitive musos – all this despite the fact that the sets are carefully arranged with buckets of imagination and intricacy.
Generally, speeds are defiantly non-frenetic, and the relaxed feel extends right through the instrumental compass, even when the tempos do get faster; the vitality is maintained throughout, and the players' enjoyment communicates well through the clean production. The one vocal track is the perhaps inevitable (tho' nevertheless not in any way unwelcome) Kate Rusby intervention, this time an excellent rendition of The Bold Privateer. All in all, this is a predictably satisfying album that manages to avoid sounding anything like predictable.
David Kidman
This release has strong connections with Flame Of Wine by Lasarfhíona (which coincidentally I've reviewed very recently too), in two respects: that Inishere (Aran Islands) native MacDara Ó Conaola is Lasarfhíona's brother, and that The Love Token also uses the same co-producer (Máire Breatnach) together with an almost identical cast of backing musicians (in this case Bill Shanley, Mick O'Brien, Danny Dyrt, Paul Gunning, Johnny McDonagh and Máire herself). Lasarfhíona herself even appears on backing vocals on two of the tracks. MacDara's singing shares with his sister's a predominantly gentle quality and timbre, which proves most attractive on a wide range of material on this, his debut release. Musically at any rate, that range may prove a mite too wide for some listeners, for in encompassing some quite adventurous arrangements alongside the fairly orthodox trad-arr guitar, fiddle, whistle and bodhrán accompaniments I'm not entirely sure that it all quite hangs together - even though MacDara's voice provides the all-important unifying factor and he's evidently totally at ease with his chosen material. But almost every track turns out to have a special virtue - and character - all its own, from very appealing renditions of two contrasting traditional songs Baile Uí Laoi (Ballylee) and Stóirín Geal Mo Chroí, through to the romantic swoon of dance-floor country-cajun (Webb Pierce's I Don't Care) and the carefree, relaxed free-wheeling whimsy of the self-composed It's So Easy. There's an altogether more experimental ambience-enhanced soundscape for the strangely funky lament Án Dún Aengus, whereas in contrast, MacDara adopts an almost cheeky come-on tone for the delicious Buachaillín Deas Óg Mé and Beidh Aonach Amárach. And when singing in English, MacDara is generally every bit as persuasive (although, exceptionally, I do find his setting of By The Roving Of Her Eyes a little bland). For, listening to MacDara, you feel you can almost believe his claim that "someone invented the wheel for me"!...
www.myspace.com/macdaramusic
www.thearansinger.com
David Kidman March 2007
Were there any justice, dust-throated McDermott's 1991 folk rock debut 620 W. Surf should have put him on track to the sort of career enjoyed by Mellencamp and Springsteen, both artists to whom he has been likened. Despite critical acclaim, that didn't happen nor, equally inexplicably, did stunning follow up Gethsemane prove any more successful.
At which point, things took a stumble as the now 23 year old Irish-Catholic Chicagoan found himself lured by the temptations of the road and rock n roll lifestyle, believing that experiencing the gutter would be good for his creativity. It gave him the songs, inspirational numbers infused with his strong religious faith, but he found climbing back out again a harder trick to pull off. Four further albums emerged, though by now he'd lost his major label deal, then came the crunch when, in 2004, he was busted for cocaine possession and locked up in Cook County, Chicago's toughest jail. Realising he'd hit bottom, the consolation was that the only way left was up. An agreement to attend drug school rehab put him back in the world, taking with him the inspiration that would produce the songs about addiction and the search for redemption on this, his eighth album. Ironically, his cell he was the one his still incarcerated father had spent time in some years before for a gun bust. Maybe that gave him pause to see where his own life was heading, it was certainly the impetus to write the aching confessional My Father's Son.
Maybe it's because of the fire in which it was forged, but, largely recorded live, it's his best and most emotionally raw work since the debut. Built around acoustic guitar, dobro, piano and pedal steel, Mess Of Things lays the cards on the table from the start as he looks back to being a strung out addict 'on 23rd waitin' on a friend', caught in New York's black hole of self-destruction, overwhelmed by his loneliness and ability to screw up.
Throughout the album women and God are the straws at which he clutches, looking to help pull himself from the abyss. Relationships founder, regrets weigh down and self-loathing washes in on numbers like the Prine-like Still Ain't Over You Yet, A Kind Of Love Song, Broken, A Long Way From Heaven and the janglingly anthemic The American In Me, a self-examination of both himself and a nation.
But equally, No Words finds hope that he's worth saving, All My Love sees him realising what he's wants from acknowledging what he's lost and the album closes on the magnificent piano ballad Shall Be Healed where he finally comes to the alter and opens himself to be saved.
You don't have to share his faith to be swept up by McDermott's songs, but if you've ever even half-glimpsed the same darkness, this will ring like a chapel bell in the night.
www.michael-mcdermott.com
www.myspace.com/michaelmcdermott
Mike Davies April 2008
This time released on the Levellers' OTF label, the McDermotts crew's latest studio CD brings another glorious set of thoughtful, fresh-sounding, often rabble-rousing songs from the pen of Nick Burbridge. Once again Nick takes traditional-type tune structures as the template and ambit for his brilliantly cogent and alert commentaries on our society. Couched in vital, stirring acoustic-based settings with strong tunes, a logically mighty degree of rhythmic impetus and a perennial abundance of energy in the playing and singing, these new songs are the total embodiment of Nick's unwavering commitment to the dispossessed which as always lends the songs a uniquely plaintive passion and urgency.
Here the McDermott's core lineup of Nick Burbridge (guitar, vocals, bodhrán), Ben Paley (fiddle) and Matt Goorney (bass, ukelele, harmonica, melodica) is augmented by a whole host of musicians including Tim Cotterell, Charlie Heather, Mandy Murray, Calum Stewart and John Brewins, but textures are kept clear and uncluttered and Nick's lyrics remain the unerring focus throughout. And again Nick shows his acute feel for expressing wholly reasoned views on our own times, preoccupations and morals through an unfailingly intelligent use of political narrative and allegory. His creations are songs that grab you from first play, and by second runthrough you almost feel you've known them for ages; I could single out the haunting Stowaway, the wonderfully atmospheric sense of poetry linking Bone's Farewell and All Souls' Night, the wildly catchy Crazy Jane's Day Out... but that would be denigrating the impact of the remainder of the songs, which seriously don't have a weak link among them anywhere. If as on previous albums I hear distinct resonances of the work of Dr. Strangely Strange and Robin Williamson (the latter especially on the phrasing and demeanour of aforementioned Bone's Farewell), well that's not to be taken as any kind of complaint. In fact, all that I said about the previous McDermotts offerings remains true for this new set, which is easily the equal of those (who knows, it might soon surpass them - that is, until I get round to playing one or other of them again!); yes, Goodbye To The Madhouse is surely set to enter the exalted company of both Claws And Wings and Disorder as positively a classic of acoustic-folk-rock.
www.burbridgearts.org
www.levellers.co.uk
David Kidman August 2007
McDermotts 2 Hours - Live At Ferneham Hall (Burbridge Arts)
Not long since the McDermotts' excellent joint album with Levellers Disorder, and now we have a live set that perfectly encapsulates the folk-punk spirit of the celebrated thrash-folk outfit. Lasting close on an hour, the CD's 14 tracks take in a diverse parade of songs taken from Levellers material (Prisoner, Dirty Davey) and original McDermotts albums The Enemy Within (Refugees), Claws And Wings (North And South, Song Of A Brother), Disorder (Johnny And The Jubilee, Bloody Sunday) and World Turned Upside Down (Harry Brewer, Taking It On and the Poguesy Laying The Sligo Maid), with the theatre-production rarity Rosa thrown in for good measure, so it's as much a sampler for the consistency and strength of Nick's writing as anything else. So it's a sampler for the McDermotts novice who might've wondered why critics have been raving about them, but also a memento for the cognoscenti. It's the sheer energy and drive - if all folk-rock were like this, then the beast wouldn't be lumbering along half-dead in cosy parentheses on the Mike Harding programme would it?… so while the fox is on the run, who needs to be afraid of Virginia Woolf, indeed? And sod it, who cares about a few lurchingly drunk harmonies or a line or two of slightly out-of-tune singing here or there, it's the unbridled atmosphere of the McDermotts gig that counts - and by that token this record's a stonker. There's that defiant "we'll dance on the wall when the bastards fall in an English country garden" vibe shot right through this set of "stadium rock in the Ferneham Hall", and a grand happy and sweaty time was had by all. So OK it's the cliché from hell to say you really had to be there, but this CD, unlike many cold and unambient live albums, is humungously enjoyable and emphatically not just a limp quasi-substitute for being there. Get it from the band's website.
David Kidman
David Kidman
Influential folk band McDermott's Two Hours were named after a hippy who when left in charge of Radio Free Derry for a famous two hours replaced the playlist of rebel songs with the Incredible String Band (good man!). McDermotts were "out-levelling the Levellers in the anarchy stakes when the latter were still wet behind the ears", and the Levs repaid the debt by signing them to their label in the 80s. The bands continue to be firm friends, and this second "vs" collaboration reunites McDermotts' two founder members Nick Burbridge and Tim O'Leary with the Levs' rhythm section (Charlie Heather and Jeremy Cunningham), with Jon Sevink providing extra fiddle on the opening track, The first collaboration between McDermotts and Levellers had allegedly been little more than a bloody good craic, though energetic and inspired; unfortunately it passed me by, so I can't comment, but Claws And Wings turns out to be something very special indeed. It's described on the press handout as "a classic contemporary protest record, which isn't made for 'the business' but for the true listener, drawing on the best elements of the folk-rock tradition to find an authentic, powerful voice". And that's no exaggeration. Elements such as the thoughtful contemporary sensibility, and a healthy open-mindedness in musical expression, with arrangements that are (happily) totally bereft of the worst types of folk-rock cliché (like leaden or thrashy rhythms) and truly serve the lyric content. Heavy-handedness gets no quarter here. The multi-tracking of Tim's bowed string contributions (fiddle, viola) is managed with a quality that recalls Robin Williamson (Merry Band or Myrrh), and Nick's singing has that puckish, perky and alert drive that combines the delicious quirkiness of the ISB with the vitality of the Levs. The songs really do cut through time, as they run the gamut from the opening rallying-cry reel of Song Of A Leveller to the dark drunkard's tale North And South to the wonderfully sombre Eyes Of Fate aura of Snapshot and the deeply meditative Song Of A Quaker's Wife to the vibrant mysticism of Travelling To Cockaigne to the tender and thought-provoking Postcard to the bitter mouth-music chant of Stór Mo Chroí to Song Of A Father, where the affirmative quality of the life-force is conveyed with an even-handed, consistent quasi-classical poise; then there's the fine trilogy that concludes the album, wherein the perspectives of contemporary political experience are brought to bear on all that has gone before. Sure, no-one wins (again) - as if you didn't know it; but hey, it's the listener who wins, in being immeasurably enriched by the insight and (eventually) wisdom that these enlightened perspectives bring. Yes, Claws And Wings is a very impressive record indeed, uniformly strong and well-balanced both musically and lyrically, and it's easily going to turn out to be one of my albums of the year, I'm convinced.
David Kidman
The shortened history of this excellent Irish folk/rock album is that songwriter, guitarist and vocalist Nick Burbridge and multi-instrumentalist Tim O'Leary of McDs 2 Hours got together with the rhythm section of the Levellers, Charlie Heather, percussion and Jeremy Cunningham, bass, and recorded World Turned Upside Down in Brighton last year.
Their collaboration has produced an album of eight melodious and original songs which feel like Celtic standards (and will probably end up being so). There's a strong political edge to the intelligent and thought-provoking lyrics: the struggle for freedom; battles fought and friends lost; friendship celebrated. But it's not just one which will only go down well with expatriates at Guinness parties; 'celebratory' describes the album itself. The musicianship is accomplished, the music hook-laden. Burbridge's acoustic guitar and O'Leary's fiddle, bouzouki, whistles and harmonica are sensitively played and arranged. The album rocks along with a fine foot-tapping and joyful swagger, underpinned by the impressive Levellers' rhythm section.
The name McDermott's Two Hours was "taken from a hippy called Tommy McDermott who when left in charge of Radio Free Derry, replaced the usual playlist of rebel songs with the Incredible String Band and exhorted the people to 'be cool and calm and love one another'." We'll drink to that!
Sue Cavendish
It's nearly eight years since Catriona recorded her second solo CD Bold, and while in the interim there's been no shortage of bright young Shetland folk musicians making names for themselves this scintillating fiddle player has always been in a class of her own somewhat, and here definitely remains so. For album number three, Catriona has again surrounded herself with three of the most in-demand musicians on the Scottish music scene - Unusual Suspects' David Milligan (piano) and Shooglenifty's Conrad Ivitsky (double bass) and James Mackintosh (percussion) – who together lend this album too a strong jazz perspective that both complements and moulds Catriona's own playing to give the whole project a very distinctive signature. A good example of this is track 4 (Him On Piano), which takes Catriona's own hymn-like piece (which was composed specially for David) and ingeniously metamorphoses into a Swedish polska, finishing up on a brilliant original tune by Carina Normansson. The special rapport between Catriona and David in particular is striking, but the whole album has a real feel of the musicians having fun and appreciating and enjoying each other's company and sensibility, sparking off each other most inventively with as much the spirit of an empathic jazz trio as that of a folk or classical ensemble. Just over half of the eleven tracks either contain or consist exclusively of Catriona's own compositions, either heavily inspired by traditional tune-forms or more freely constructed. The official final track pairs a solo rendition of Da West Side Brides March with a Muckle reel which intriguingly sounds much like a Norwegian halling, given an almost heavy-metal-style finish (I can't find a more apt description). After which, there's a few minutes of silence before the bonus track, on which Catriona delivers Sir Olaf, a Trowie ballad fetchingly sung to a Norse melody (her only vocal performance on the entire disc). This may provide a deliberate contrast to all that's gone before, but like the rest of this genuinely exhilarating CD it interprets and presents the ever-changing tradition in the light of world influences as it sparkles with both a youthful freshness of approach and an attractive maturity of outlook. You too may well be as much over the moon listening to the disc as Catriona and her chums obviously were in making the record.
David Kidman March 2008
Greentrax get seriously funky with this latest offering from young Highland piper/whistle player Finlay, who, with his crack band, lay down what I'd wager is probably the tightest groove on the scene at the moment. His previous outing, Pressed For Time (on the Footstompin' label), was a really assured disc that demonstrated not only Finlay's formidable playing technique but also his respect for the tradition, while creating exciting settings for the tunes themselves. ReEcho, which follows a period of intensive touring, also sees a small change in his band personnel, whereby John Speirs has replaced Quee Macarthur on bass, but if anything the band is tighter than ever. This is apparent right away when the disc kicks off with the seven-minute funk extravaganza Back To Bergamo (melding together three of Finlay's own compositions), mean and dirty with edge-of-the seat rhythms and constant interest in all departments - the point when Finlay switches to the pipes (after starting out on flute) is one of those defining moments that stuns each time you play through. What sets this disc apart from the crowd of jazzed-up, funked-up pretenders is the sheer excitement, the exhilaration, the amazing dexterity with which Finlay and his band encompass metres that surprise even in the context of the tunes' origins. Their approach is innovative, the groove fiercely contemporary, yet not a programmed beat in earshot - and the result is all the more exciting for it. That opening set is hard to beat, but in their own way the stirring, majestic pace of the Time To Dance set and the heavier tread of Abdoul's carry their own weight and the statelier Bulgarian tune midway through the disc provides a key staging-post. Martyn Bennett's Ud The Duduk forms the basis for a robust workout where Fergus Mackenzie's hyperactive drumming and brother Kevin's electric guitar licks entice with their counter-rhythms. Fiddler Chris Stout again more than proves his worth, every bit as much on the lyrical viola melody of Miss Elliott's as on the spinning, whirling-ever-faster sections where he seems to be duelling with Finlay's pipes. The closing medley of a Breton tune and Finlay's piece The Sunday Club makes for a fittingly sparky finale. No disappointment here then, from any quarter.
David Kidman January 2008
The Finlay Macdonald Band - Pressed For Time (Footstompin' Records)
More than just accompanied by the vital melodic underpinning and rock-solid rhythms of his four-piece band (fiddler Chris Stout, guitarist Kevin Mackenzie, bassist Quee Macarthur and percussionist Fergus MacKenzie), the brilliant young Highland piper Finlay skirls an abundantly energetic path through an album-full of tunes. These originate not only from his native Scotland (traditional mingled with some modern opuses from the likes of Gordon Duncan), but also from Brittany and Macedonia, with a few of his own thrown in. In the end, the bold contemporary groove and distinctive character of the arrangements is as much determined by Fergus's hyperactive drumming as by Finlay's piping, but there are still moments of relative repose (like the gentle Alastair's Vintage Bar, jointly-composed between Finlay and Chris) which work their own special brand of magic. The hypnotic Macedonian Tune brings yet another contrast with its droning rhythms. And another big plus of this set is the versatility of Finlay himself – though best known as an exponent of the Highland pipes, he's every bit as adept on the Border pipes (as his rendition of Charlie McKerron's Bulgarian Red demonstrates) and whistle (as on the marvellously laid-back My Mighty Friend). The album also includes a "remix" of McKerrells (from Finlay's eponymous first solo album, which you'll also find on the Footstompin' label). At whatever tempo, though, the vibrant spark of the band session is right up there at the front of the mix, and the effect is totally irresistible – no wonder the band is so much in demand at festivals!
www.finlaymacdonaldband
www.footstompin.com
David Kidman
Scott MacDonald - New Heart (Catacol Records)
Scott MacDonald is a singer-songwriter from a village on the outskirts of Glasgow. He is a fine musician and songwriter, with one foot in the tradition and the other pointing West. His music has best been described as where Celtic meets country. It's honest solo acoustic guitar fare with simple harmonica accompaniment (track 10 being the exception with fiddle, guitar, percussion and backing vocal additions). His voice is warmly melodic and confidential, with just enough polish and that touch of desolation which makes lyrics compulsive listening. The album is a pleasure to listen to. Live he performs his songs with strength, style and intensity; Scott is no limp-wristed strummer!
New Heart will be released shortly but is available now at his gigs. Also available is a 3-track single 'Burn Baby Burn', songs written about his time in Australia where he played Perth & Melbourne and was known as the Celtic Neil Young!
Sue Cavendish
Shelagh's was never a household name, even within the hallowed realms of the folk enthusiast, but she so richly deserved the status and her damnably short career is the stuff of legend. Arguably even more so since she did a complete vanishing act in 1972 after releasing just two LPs which showed her to be a performer of considerable talent and promise. And she's not been heard of since then - no, not at all. So to all intents and purposes, Let No Man Steal Your Thyme is all you're ever going to get in terms of recordings; it's the absolutely complete collection. On two CDs it brings us the entire contents of both of Shelagh's LPs, originally released on B&C (1970's The Shelagh McDonald Album and 1971's Stargazer), along with all retrievable alternate takes, outtakes and demos and the tracks which appeared on the Club Folk records. If you already own the Mooncrest CD editions of the two albums (which came out around five or six years back), which included most of the extra material mentioned, you're still likely to want this new collection, for it opens with the brace of (admittedly less than characteristic) acoustic country-blues-style tracks recorded live and originally available only on the obscure 1969 BBC compilation Dungeon Folk. And it has a finely detailed new booklet note by David Wells, which not only provides full credits for the recordings (unlike the Mooncrest reissues), but also states the case for Shelagh's artistry most persuasively. Not that it could pass you by when you play the CDs, for Shelagh had a superb singing voice by any standards, notwithstanding the strength and individuality of her songwriting. Her singing matched the purity of a Judy Collins with the dexterity and range of Joni Mitchell (the melodic contours of whose songs, not to mention the actual writing, Shelagh's resembled at times too), but it's Sandy Denny to whom Shelagh was most often considered the heir in the solo female artist stakes (Sandy herself having at that point forsaken a solo career for a group setting). Shelagh seemed to have everything (striking good looks too!), although the critical approval which her music garnered wasn't matched by LP sales. Then there was the vigour of the supporting playing - producer Sandy Roberton had gathered round Shelagh a real who's-who of fine guest musos for each session. Album featured Andy Roberts, Gerry Conway, Pat Donaldson, Gordon Huntley, Ian Whiteman and Keith Tippett, as well as fellow singer-songwriter Keith Christmas (with whom Shelagh had been briefly involved while living in Bristol in 1969). Aside from bringing on board Messrs Christmas and Whiteman again, Stargazer featured an even more diverse array of talents, from Richard Thompson, Dave Mattacks and Danny Thompson to Mac & Katie Kissoon! Some of the musical arrangements employed were pretty ambitious, and were masterminded by Robert Kirby (who'd done string settings for Nick Drake), and thus don't fall into the despised 70s over-production trap. As well as Shelagh's own songs (which provide the main focus only on Stargazer, whereas roughly a third of Album was covers, albeit superior ones, of material by Christmas, Roberts and Gerry Rafferty). As well as this collection's title track, the traditional song repertoire is represented by a stunning, brooding version of the traditional Dowie Dens Of Yarrow which would have put many a contemporaneous folk-rock treatment well and truly in the shade. Though her albums sounded very much in the mould of upcoming folk-rock-pop singer-songwriter offerings of the time, none of the tracks Shelagh recorded seem really to have dated (at least to my ears). If you've not caught up with Shelagh's work before now, then hasten along and get this set. Join with me in regretting Shelagh's disappearance, sure, but rejoice with me that her complete recorded legacy is here for our permanent enjoyment.
David Kidman
Kate McDonnell - Where The Mangoes Are (Appleseed)
Connecticut-born, New-York-State-based singer-songwriter Kate joins the illustrious roster of Appleseed for this, her fourth album. Coming a full two years on from her well-received and decidedly strong third offering Don't Get Me Started, Where The Mangoes Are is another strong record, marking a further significant advance in Kate's music. Tom Paxton has cited Kate's music for its combination of grace, intelligence and warmth – a beguiling one indeed, and one with which I'd be loth to disagree; I sure can't, so I won't! Once again, the majority of the songs on the album are Kate's own compositions, either solo or in collaboration with Anne Lindley. These include two songs with at first glance rather familiar titles, Go Down Moses and Hey Joe, the former a direct portrayal of the highs of love and the latter a rather more enigmatic expression of the conundrum of life and death that capitalises on the rhythm and momentum of the more familiar song of that title. Chronologically, the songs here were mostly written over the period 2000 through 2003 (standouts Mercy and Soft-hearted Girl were both songwriting contest winners last year), the one exception being 5:05, written as long ago as 1991 but betraying not a trace of immaturity. The one and only cover this time round is of Steve Earle's Goodbye Song, given an attractive and deeply felt rendition, with nice fiddle playing from Mindy Jostyn in tow; there's also a "cheerful-and-efficient" interlude midway through the CD in the form of a Freight-Train-style reworking of the traditional Railroad Bill. As before, Kate relies on a small coterie of backing musicians, among whom the multi-talented Scott Petito figures large but without dominating Kate's own delectable musical personality (but what on earth's a "garden weasel" then, Scott?!); there's also some notable electric guitar fills from Marc Shulman on many of the cuts. Also as before, Kate's own guitar playing is crisp and clear-toned yet unobtrusive (less unobtrusive than you might think when you learn that she plays left-handed yet with guitar strung upside-down – so figure that, fingerpickers!)… Her singing is again characterised by that rarer-than-you'd-think combination of rhythmic individuality in phrasing and strength in flexibility (her playful vocalising on the strange, seductive Lemon Marmalade, which includes the CD's title phrase, is specially mesmerising). So what this all adds up to is another memorable album from Kate, which with the added benefit of Appleseed's wide distribution should ensure Kate gains plenty more admirers.
David Kidman
This third album from Connecticut-born singer-songwriter Kate is very probably her best yet (if not quite the most consistent) - and both Broken Bones and Next (both on Waterbug) were hard acts to follow. These two albums were separated by a gap of four years, but Don't Get Me Started appeared last year, after a shorter gap of only just over two years. This shorter interval is reflected in the urgency of the writing, and an even greater self-confidence that kicks away every last trace of that occasional diffidence I'd noted on Broken Bones. Aside from joyous Carter-Family-style takes on Banks Of The Ohio and Little Darlin' Pal Of Mine (the bonus track) - where Kate's joined by what seems like the whole McDonnell clan - and a deft, swift and wonderfully-judged cover of John Pennell's Will You Be Leaving?, everything here is self-penned and (mostly) acutely personal, but you don't feel excluded at all (as can so easily happen with confessional singer-songwriters). Songs like the title track (an unsurpassable slice of bitterness co-written by the curiously-named Anne Killheffer!), Gone, Take Me Home and What Will You Do? (shades of Joan Baez on the latter perhaps, tho' no bad thing!) are classics of their kind, and set my machine's replay button on overtime. Kate's vocal delivery is immensely assured and distinguished by its very passion, and since it doesn't readily invoke any direct comparisons with other singers it proves pretty damn impressive in its own right. Kate's guitar work is unusually skilled and powerful (she's been described as "upside-down-and-backwards guitarist" - just hear her!), emphasising the poetic rhythms of her lyrics in a strikingly individual way. Instrumental support is carefully managed courtesy of producer Scott Petito, who also plays bass, electric guitar, mandolin and percussion; Jerry Marotta plays drums, while there are also notable fiddle contributions from Gina Forsyth on a handful of cuts, and Ben Murray blows a bluesy harmonica on Sticky Buns, one of the oldest songs on the album and the most throwaway in nature. But importantly, the focus is firmly on Kate and her guitar throughout, which is exactly at it should be. Very much worth seeking out.
under construction - try http://www.waterbug.com/mcdonnell.htmlDavid Kidman
A bit of a change of pace from her last few albums, this doesn't ditch the folk, jazz, blues cocktail but it is far meatier (replete with much fat brass) than the stripped back moods of Out There and very much wears its late 50s/early 60s heart on its (album) sleeve. It also reverses the balance of past releases by favouring covers over the self-penned and collaborative material.
Apparently initially planned as a covers collection linked around a theme of turning 40 (a wry twist being that most of them are normally sung by men), it grew into a reflection on the hopes and disappointments of love as well as growing old. It's the latter that strikes the opening note with a bossa nova treatment of the Stones' Mother's Little Helper complete with jazz piano, itchy percussion and early hours sax. Sung in her distinctive accent, it's not only a fabulous reinterpretation but it's the first time I've actually made out all the words.
The passing of the years is there on the next cover, a fine honky tonk piano roll through Terry Allen's bluegrassed tale of a Lubbock Woman hitting 40, lonely, not so good looking but raunchy and with a good heart.
Ringing the musical changes, If You Want Me To Stay is a simply arranged voice and percussion gospel blues reading of the Sly and the Family Stone nugget while Hands Off Him brings a sassy good time New Orleans brass and organ roll through Priscilla Bowman's 1955 big band swinger.
Turning on the country taps, a slowly lollopping Shame On The Moon, Rodney Crowell's wistful musing on the mysteries of a woman's heart, lifts a throaty slide guitar solo right out of the 50s before she slips over the border for a mariachi samba through Butch Hancock's timeless (S)He Never Spoke Spanish To Me before wrapping up with a breathily delivered, loose limbed, skirt swirling prowl around Nick Lowe's I Knew The Bride (When She Used To Rock 'n'Roll).
So much for the interpretations then (though perhaps technically speaking, a new howl at the moon version of the celebratory Easy In Love from Yola has her covering herself), what about the original material?
First up is track two, a co-write with Johnny Rivers on the jazzy soul swing blues title track with its Hammond backing, sax and snare percussion, delivered with a warm relaxed groove that sounds like it'll be a scorcher live.
Roll Out Better Days, the only self-penned number is another uptempo organ and brass r&b swing tune that you could imagine Van Morrison recording in one of his less grumpy moods. Which leaves a brace of collaborations with former Beautiful South guitarist Dave Rotheray. They shared two co-writes on his recent Homespun album, Short Stories From East Yorkshire, and do the same here. Old New Borrowed And Blue jauntily streams goodtime vaudeville ragtime jazz with clarinet leading the dance steps down the aisle, and the marvellously titled drunken slow waltz The Night May Still Be Young, But I Am Not sees The Pogues meet Piaf down some faded seaside music hall or cabaret dive where an old pianola player tickles the ivories while grey-haired romantics dance away the memories. If the album's this good, the live shows are going to be truly something to savour.
www.eleanormcevoy.com
www.myspace.com/eleanormcevoy
Mike Davies May 2008
Back with an album even more stripped down that Early Hours, and on which she's taken charge of the arrangements and plays pretty much everything you hear, this finds the South Wexford singer-songwriter variously mediating on ecology, economics and, in songs about relationships ended, lacking and desired, female strengths and vulnerabilities.
Opening in k.d.lang mood, the smokey lounge ambience, brushed percussion and vibes of Non Smoking Single Female offers a witty plea for romance written in small ads style but with a sub-text about consumerism.
In more serious moods, she moves on embrace the bitter hurt of To Sweep Away A Fool, masculine commitment phobia on Quote I Love You Unquote (co-penned with Dave Rothery of The Beautiful South), the wounded heart sarcasm of the mandolin and fiddled based Suffer So Well, the marimba tinged So Much Trouble's tale of a woman discovering her husband's infidelity and, by way of a mirror image, temptation resisted in the Gaelic infused folk of Wrong So Wrong.
At least Little Luck looks on the brighter side of holding fast to a relationship in the face of everything.
Elsewhere, Vigeland's Dream uses the Norwegian sculptor as a springboard for a meditation on the connections and emotions art can unlock within us while, embracing wider malaise Fields of Dublin 4 addresses the loss of the city's soul that's accompanied its tiger economy and eco concerns come to the fore on a haunting version of Marvin Gaye's Mercy Mercy Me, slowed down and sung with just acoustic guitar backing.
It's one of two covers on the album, the second being her equally bare boned reinterpretation of Little Feat's Roll Um Easy.
It doesn't always work, the use of programmed d