A to Z Album and Gig Reviews
So titled because she was pregnant during recording (two days and first takes), the Bristol born, Wales based singer-songwriter's fourth album is a highly introspective and reflective affair, musing on missed or lost opportunities and dealing either with relationships or the dream and pursuit of a musical career.
The latter looms large on the second track, Nashville, where "there's music in the water" and she declares she's "going to drink me some slow southern beats". It name checks Chet Atkins, Roy Orbison and the Everlys, and there's another nod to heroes and influences on the acoustic strummed These Are The Songs.
Looking back to herself as a 15 year old with "a bashed up guitar" and a "big head full of big time thoughts," about getting to Nashville and singing with James and Jackson, and of a glittering career of Grammys and Hollywood, she wonders why, 15 years later "it's all gone wrong." But, she adds, "you're never going to stop me from singing those songs".
If that's about music as a rock to cling to, it's clear that there's been times when she's come close to drowning. Clean is a jaunty confessional of getting wasted and having "done some silly things to my body", but now reaching out to grab life as it passes by, while soulful piano ballad Bridge is another song about figuring herself out and of being made stronger by the scars and bruises.
Finding ways to hold on to relationships and opening up to others form the core of the slow burn One More Day, Tell Her, a James Taylor-ish Therapy 2008, her jazz smoked country blues cover of Don't Leave Me This Way and the southern soul sway infused I Wanna Be Loved with its hint of White Shade Of Pale on the organ intro.
Childhood informs the album's remaining two tracks. Mockingbird recalls discovering 'not everything is black and white' from reading To Kill A Mockingbird (though, if I'm being picky, Harper Lee's first name was Nelle not Nell) while becoming a new mother clearly prompted the closing eco-themed keyboard backed lullaby Who Will You Be?
Unfussily arranged and streaked with the dust of Southern folk and country, it's probably more of a career consolidating album than anything, but those who've been along for the ride so far will have no complaints and, for newcomers, it's a warmly inviting place to begin.
www.amywadge.com
www.myspace.com/amywadge
Mike Davies August 2009
Amy Wadge - No Sudden Moves (Manhaton)
The Carole King and Indigo Girl references remain strong on numbers like Free Fall, Always and the stand out Pulling Me In while Fairweather Friend and the title track suggest Sheryl Crow's mellower moods and Here In My Hands even has a touch of Bonnie Tyler about her husky delivery.
A poetic lyricist, the songs too have grown in stature. The material on Woj was solid, but she's moved to a new level with things like the jazzy flavoured easy rolling Always, the emotionally drained Shattered, Play It Again's poignant farewell to a late friend and the Brill Building airiness of the other man's grass themed USA, We'll Wait & See , the Welsh version of which reached No 9 in the native charts. Indeed, it says much that her wistful piano interpretation of the Manics' Design For Life slots in seamlessly among her original material. It may take some concerted gigging and a leg up from Radio 2 airplay to crack the territories beyond the land of song, but as the album suggests, she's in no hurry and her time is definitely approaching.
Mike Davies, May 2006
There was once a rumour that the Avon by birth Welsh by adoption singer-songwriter was going to replace Cerys in Catatonia. The truth is that their rhythm section joined her. Wise move. Pronounced as per the album title, Wadge, winner of the Best Female Singer Welsh Music Award for the second year running, has been frequently compared to Joni Mitchell, one of her prime inspirations, but perhaps more accurate reference points would be Janis Ian (Anywhere, written for her late father-in-law), Carole King (Nothing) , Aimee Mann (Scream) and Thea Gilmore (Just In Time), or maybe even the Indigo Girls.
Partly new recordings of material from her DIY demo album Open, it's a mix of gentle acoustic folksy pop and more rock inflected material like the slow ringing swagger of Valley Boy (about her actor hubbie) or Six of One where Robbie McIntosh lets his guitar off the leash. Her voice too runs the gamut from breathy wisps of smoke (Grace) to gutsier blood (Breathe), playful on things like the jaunty Paris with its cafe accordion, wistfully tender on the piano ballad June, and on Adre' nol, a valentine to her chosen homeland, even partly sung in Welsh. Croeso y Woj.
Mike Davies
Hobo's Lullaby is this bluegrass band's fourth recording, and content-wise eight Wagner originals merge with seven covers including the Goebel Reeves penned album title track. With a back line of bass and drums, Wagner's banjo, fiddle and lead vocals are supported by mandolin, guitar and resonator guitar. The latter instrument comes to the fore when the five piece slips into grass-less blues mode – aficionados will know that the town of Greenwood featured prominently in the demise of legendary bluesman Robert Johnson - as on Muddy Waters' Rollin' & Tumblin' and Cliff's arrangement of the traditional Carroll County Blues which closes this collection. Score 5 out of 10
Arthur Wood, Kerrville Kronikles, June 2009
Born in 1929, John Dee Holeman is an original bluesman and here he teams up with the young Australian folk/rock band The Waifs for a surreal session that resulted in this gem of an album. They open with a straightforward version of the country blues classic, John Henry and follow it up with the electric blues of Country Gal. This is delivered at a pedestrian pace but the delta/Chicago hybrid is the real deal. Mojo Hand is another, no messing electric blues and the band gives it to us, warts and all. This is a rough diamond with a live feel to it. The strangely titled Give Me Back My Wig gives the harmonica player, Vikki Thorn, a chance to step out of the shadows and she does excel on this rustic offering. I'm A Pilgrim is acoustic, traditional and fantastic.
The tracks keep on coming and Coming Home To You is a classic blues. The first slight disappointment is Elmore James' Dust My Broom. I've been brought up on powerful versions of this song and Holman's just doesn't do it for me. Next up is Little Queenie but I could swear that I was listening to Reelin' and Rockin' – someone has got his Chuck Berry tunes mixed up! This shows how wide reaching Chuck Berry's influence is. They return to electric delta style blues for I Miss You Huggin' and they turn in an unpolished performance that demonstrates how sweet music can be. Looking Yonder Comin' is country acoustic blues and harks back to days gone by. If there is a style to pin to Holeman then this is it. They finish with the classic Baby, Please Don't Go - often covered, few better.
David Blue October 2007
The Waifs - Up All Night (Jarrah)
The latest Americana outfit to emerge from Australia (their 'strine accents proudly undisguised), founded by singer-songwriter guitarist sisters Donna and Vicki Simpson and Josh Cunningham the Waifs have actually been going since 1992 and were the first Oz band to play the Newport Folk Festival, but it's only now they're starting to stretch the horizons beyond their native shores. Partly recorded in LA, this, their fourth album, pretty much describes where they're at with its acoustic bluesy folk-pop, or as Donna puts it on the opening Fisherman's Daughter, "just your regular West Australian fisherman's daughter .. a middle class folk singing guitar playing girl."
A collection of written on the road songs, stained by the dust, warmed by the sun and cooled by night under open skies - on Highway One they even sing about eating fish from a coal fire and sleeping outside - it's unfussy but accomplished stuff, the sisters twangy soulful vocals clearly having spent some time soaking in the glow of Nashville (listen to Three Down) but without feeling the need to actually pretend they were born there.
Recent single London Still (curiously evocative of the late Kirsty MacColl) where, to the accompaniment of lonely dobro. they talk about wandering round Camden and buying old Motown records will undoubtedly strike a chord with Aussie ex-pats, but you don't have to come from the land Down Under to appreciate the sentiments that vein something like the aching barroom ballad Nothing New where Vicky writes of the 'embittered heart' of a woman burned by love or the 'you don't know me' notes of Cunningham's funky bluesy Flesh And Blood. Cunningham actually makes his vocal debut on this album, taking lead on two tracks, the semi-spoken don't get out much these days Since I've Been Around, which suggests he's a bit of a Dylan fan, and the closing weary heavy-lidded six minute title track that surely owes a nod to Tom Waits. They're both fair enough numbers, but if the band are going take on the world then it's clearly the sisters who'll be out there leading the assault.
Mike Davies
Aptly named indeed, this new release from Canada's Jennys (and only their second!) positively sparks, bristles and fizzes with an explosive vitality that takes their home-grown down-home rusticity onto a higher plane while letting the glow it creates linger long in the memory. It's less contemporary in overall sensibility than their debut 40 Days, with an altogether more pronounced roots-Americana feel yet retaining the girls' penchant for lush and well-coordinated vocal harmonies within tightly controlled musical grooves.
The lineup change since 40 Days has if anything crystallised the trio's approach even more, with a striking new degree of cohesion that their debut at times only hinted at, which is still perhaps more than mildly surprising given the three girls' distinct musical personalities. New member Annabelle Chvostek (Cara Luft's replacement) has already more than proved herself over on two successive UK tours, and here she shows herself to be an integral part of the Jennys' unique mix, contributing a depth of register that really complements the soprano voices of the other two Jennys. She's contributed four of the album's 13 compositions (including the title track), as have both Ruth (Moody) and Nicky (Mehta), the remaining cut being a drop-dead-gorgeous acapella rendition of the traditional Long Time Traveller. Annabelle and Nicky have both contributed songs that inhabit the more pure bluegrassy idiom: of Annabelle's, Swallow is a delicate country-waltz, while The Devil's Paintbrush Road ushers in a rush of fresh air like a breakneck Appalachian breakdown. Of the other songs, Nicky's Starlight and Ruth's This Heart Of Mine definitely have the feel of lost Alison Krauss (or Emmylou) classics. As is often the case, the sweet, heart-stoppingly beautiful sound of the girls' combined voices belies any dark content in the lyrics yet sometimes only serves to make the pain of that expressed beauty more intense (check out the desperation Ruth evokes in Prairie Town for starters). There's no harm in optimism however, as Nicky's romantic-pop opus Begin and Annabelle's Apocalypse Lullaby thoughtfully remind us. And there's a gently anthemic nature to Avila and the seriously gospelly Glory Bound (the latter a real killer that stopped me getting as far as track 3 for ages!).
As I've already more than hinted, all three Jennys are in superb voice here, and the Jennys' own (possibly undersold) instrumental talents are capably augmented by four guitarists including Kevin Breit and Mike Hardwick, four bass players including Joe Phillips, as well as drummer Christian Dugas, while Richard Moody (violin, viola) and album producer David Travers-Smith (trumpet, organ etc) widen the palette still further. There are some fine solos too (notably from Kevin on Prairie Town and Avila), but none of the musicians get to hog the spotlight to the exclusion of either the Jennys or their songs. And the recording is exceptional, admirably lucid and with buckets of presence. Without wishing to be disparaging, it's almost that the Jennys are what the Dixie Chicks had sort-of-promised to be; their degree of natural talent is just mind-blowing, and I get to wonder just how long they'll be able to continue producing brilliant albums like this. But for the time being, this is one of those totally exquisite CDs that I'll be returning to again and again, I just know it!
David Kidman
The Wailin' Jennys - 40 Days (Red House)
Well let's lay something to rest for starters – these lasses don't wail, and none of 'em's called Jenny! And I've been playing this CD for more than 40 days now and I've not got tired of it! It's stupendous! Why? I'll try to put some words together… Three quite different singer-songwriters performing together does not necessarily a consistent, or even listenable, group or album make, yet the Wailin' Jennys prove the exception to the rule with 40 Days. Although each writer contributes three songs to the album, the whole doesn't ever feel just like a stitching-together of disparate styles of writing, for the performances of these (and the two traditional songs and two covers herein) have a satisfying unity in attitude allied to a real musicality of approach. It says much for the latter that the non-originals don't stand out like sore thumbs from the rest of the material.
Back to the individuals concerned – all three hail from Canada, but confusingly, there's been a lineup change since this album was recorded; original members Ruth Moody and Nicky Mehta remain, but Cara Luft has since been left the group, to be replaced by Annabelle Chvostek. Ironically (and lamentably), I know next to nothing about Nicky or Ruth, just that they're both Canadian roots music award winners, but Cara – well, I was knocked out by her 2000 CD Tempting The Storm, which I came across only last year (and reviewed here on NetRhythms, of course!). She's an intense presence both vocally and instrumentally, but in the WJs environment she doesn't dominate proceedings, preferring to go with understatement for effect. Having said that, the intense rhythmic impetus and driving (almost Zeppelinesque) momentum that's her trademark comes across in full on cuts like her own Come All You Sailors especially. The three lasses also bring in a select few other musicians (including Richard Moody, Mark Mariash and Andrew Downing) to help flesh out the sound a bit on occasion.
So, back to the special qualities of this album as a whole then – just get the opener One Voice playing, and prepare to be mesmerised, charmed, intrigued, captivated, completely hooked as the deceptively simple voice-and-guitar grows in tandem with the lyric to embrace two more voices in gorgeous harmony, a mandolin and a bass providing gentle instrumental counterpoint. The WJs' take on Saucy Sailor speeds along at a rate of knots at first yet loses nothing in poignancy of effect by the time a racing bodhrán is added to the mix in the second half. Nicky's drifting, tripping meditation Arlington complements its dreamily gorgeous melody line with rippling guitars and lush harmonies, with a coup-de-théâtre provided by the introduction of viola into the mix. Ruth's Beautiful Dawn is closer to alt-country, the harmonies boosted by dobro, harmonica and percussion. Cara's Untitled is a standout, its strangely detached lyric set off by a pulsing, throbbing riff and choppy viola with some other decidedly weird instrumental effects and scratches. Nicky's This Is Where brings in organ chords and some shimmering and sensitive electric guitar playing to offset those vocal harmonies (which remind me a bit of the Roches without the more blatant discords).
And that only takes us up to the halfway point of the CD, I haven't time to dissect the rest, I'll just advise you to get out and buy this amazing CD. OK, it's probably not one for the traddies, but I'm sure even traddies' hearts would melt if you play them the WJs' acapella rendition of The Parting Glass that closes the CD with the simple sound of unadorned voices in serene and controlled, intelligent yet luscious harmony. The CD's rainbow packaging aptly reflects the kaleidoscope of vocal and instrumental colours within, insistent yet strikingly beautiful.
David Kidman
Born in North Carolina in 1892, Poole started working in the cotton mills when he was 12, but teaching himself to play banjo (as did his dad, brother and cousin) he soon began to make a name for himself. Eventually leaving behind work, wife and young child to ramble across America and Canada, he teamed with crippled coal miner and fiddler Posey Rorer as both buskers and moonshiners.
Marrying Rorer's sister,Lou Emma, and settling back in NC, in 1925 Charlie, Posey and guitarist Norman Woodlief (later replaced by Roy Harvey) became the North Carolina Ramblers, signed a recording deal with Columbia and, recording a series of best selling cover versions, began the rise to fame.
Despite splitting with Rorer in 1928 over a royalties row, Poole continued to be a success, living 'high wide and handsome', only for things to fall apart in 1931 as the Depression hits record sales and booze took hold. Invited to play in a Hollywood movie, Poole went on a thirteen week drinking binge to celebrate. Shortly afterwards, in May, he died of a heart attack age 39, just before he was due to start the film.
An influence on Hank Williams and Bill Monroe, it's his legacy and legend Wainwright addresses here with reworkings (rather than direct copies) of songs recorded by Poole (or, in the case of 1897 gospel number Beautiful, performed live) alongside nine, title track included, written by Wainwright and producer Dick Connette inspired by their subject's life and times.
A veritable companion piece to Springsteen's Guthrie tribute, it's a diverse collection of styles that underlines the breadth of Poole's musical talents, embracing swing, formative bluegrass, gospel, jazz, comedy songs, Dixie, minstrel songs, trad folk, sentimental music hall ballads (Mother's Last Farewell Kiss a sterling example) and string band.
Titles may not be immediately familiar, but once those of a certain age and/or with an appreciation of America's musical history will recognise the likes of The Deal (aka Don't Let Your Deal Go Down and one of several cuts featuring mandolin wizard Chris Thile), Sweet Sunny South, The Letter That Never Came, Ramblin' Blues and Where The Whippoorwill Is Whispering Goodnight. The only real disappointment is that it doesn't include Take A Drink On Me though I'd also like to have seen what today's audiences made of Coon From Tennessee.
Wainwright and Connnette's own songs slot in perfectly, and, were it not for the biographical lyrics of The Man In The Moon (sung in the persona of Lou Emma by Maggie Roche), Rowena and Charlie's Last Song, you could easily believe they too were part of the Poole repertoire.
Impossible to conceive of it being done by anyone other than Wainwright, it's also something of a family affair. Aside from Maggie, other contributions come from Terry, Suzze and David Roche, Lucy Wainwright Roche, and Martha, Sloane and Rufus Wainwright while musicians include long standing friends and accompanists David Mansfield, Erik Friendlander and Chaim Tannenbaum, the latter also getting to take rich deep lead vocal on gospel tune The Great Reaping Day.
Superbly played and sung, it's a labour of love that deserves to be rewarded in kind and, who knows, start a movement to see Poole enshrined in the Country Music Hall of Fame where he belongs.
www.thecharliepooleproject.com
Mike Davies August 2009
Tho' the album's subtitle is "music from and inspired by Knocked Up", Strange Weirdos turns out to be more like a brand new Loudon Wainwright album (and a classic one at that), and certainly far more substantial than just another film soundtrack disc. Sure, the movie's a comedy, and sure the songs reflect and point the narrative strand, but that's as far as we need go, since Loudon himself seems to have been genuinely inspired by the act of collaborating with writer/director Judd Apatow and producer Joe Henry on the soundtrack music, producing work that transcends the usual "occasional" and merely incidental demands of the movie discipline. (And by the way, Loudon actually appears in the film too, in the role of a gynæcologist!)
Back to the music, though: there are some especially fine and thought-provoking new LW songs here, from the perfectly-observed Valley Morning and Grey In LA vignettes to a couple of outstanding, if disturbingly caustic takes on romance (Final Frontier and Lullaby), a poignant reflection on loneliness and normality (that's the title song) and the ostensibly tongue-in-cheek (but deeply serious) reflection on ageing, Doin' The Math - all of these adding up (sic!) to a pretty special set that has a credible existence outside of the purely filmic context. Loudon also turns in a brace of darned fine covers (Peter Blegvad's Daughter and Mose Allison's Feel So Good). And the musicianship of Loudon's backing band (dubbed by Joe Henry his "Wrecking Crew"!) is fabulous, with the presence of special guests Richard Thompson (on splendid form playing electric guitar on no less than three songs) and Van Dyke Parks representing more than just icing on the cake. Even the two instrumental cuts (both Joe Henry compositions) don't exactly seem pure makeweights: Naomi is a restful, weaving steel-led interlude and Ypsilanti a gently dreamy guitar idyll. But both vocally and in terms of the deeper power of his writing, Loudon's never sounded better in my opinion.
David Kidman July 2007
Loudon Wainwright III - T-Shirt/Final Exam (Evangeline)
Way back in the mid-70s, Loudon released a couple of albums on the Arista label that for some unknown reason were a devil to get hold of; I never even had copies at the time, so I'm real pleased to see that Evangeline have the good sense to make them available again. OK, so there are one or two marginally less than comfortable moments on both albums (and a couple of instances of gratuitous sound-effects), but what strikes me most hearing these albums some 30 years after they were made is the extraordinary sharpness of Loudon's vision, both in the lyrics (naturally) and in the musical settings too.
T-Shirt was originally unleashed on an indifferent world in 1976, and it really does run eclectic rings round most of what was happening in music in that year. Down-home old-time, country, Dixieland jazz, lounge, blues-boogie, strident politico-rock, songwriter-musings - they're all here, and Loudon shows a real gift for tailoring his musical accompaniments impeccably to the subject-matter, the milieu of the tales and the inimitable bite of his social commentaries. There's the Guthrie/Dylanesque Talking Big Apple 75, the edgy rollin' of California Prison Blues, the histrionic rock angst of Prince Hal's Dirge, the tacky drink-sodden barroom honky-tonk of Wine With Dinner... masterful each and every one. Moreover, the more philosophical of the songs (eg Reciprocity and Just Like President Thieu) are every bit as impressive as the deliberately satirical offerings and even the overt "novelty cuts" don't tend to grate. Backing musicians mostly comprise "house band" Slowtrain, who play way better than just fine throughout (as they do on Final Exam too by the way), with the wacky Holy Modal Rounder Peter Stampfel on Wine, and two of the Roches make an appearance as well (on Summer's Almost Over). While casually and almost incidentally, Loudon demonstrates his unsung prowess on the humble banjo (on Hollywood Hopeful (duetting with Eric Weissberg here, no less).
Generally speaking, with T-Shirt folks didn't know what'd hit 'em, and sales of the LP were as muted as the critical reception. So, as the insistent farting washboard fades away at the end of the Wine reprise, the call of destiny leads us now inexorably to reappraise Final Exam. That album followed in 1978, and after the ignominious reception given to T-Shirt perhaps great things couldn't be expected in terms of commercial success. But although it's evidently cut from the same cloth so to speak, if anything the compositions therein display a greater assurance and defiance, a determination to realise a vision of life that's proud and uncompromising and above all to force folks to think (in the best traditions of political folksong, but of course it wasn't termed such at the time). And there's some splendidly quirky contributions from those Roches again (on Golfin' Blues and The Heckler) and the touching Pretty Little Martha gives Loudon a chance to dust off that ol' backporch banjo again. So I'd say snap up these albums now, before they disappear again from the catalogue. For here's Loudon the iconoclast, in all his splendour, and these two albums are essential to the picture of the man and the artist.
www.evangeline.com
www.loudonwainwright.com
David Kidman June 2007
Now nearly 60, Loudon Wainwright III has been at the very heart of American culture for the best part of four decades.
Since 1968 he has been writing, recording, touring, making films and TV. He has appeared in movies by Tim Burton and Cameron Crowe as well as a cameo as a singing surgeon on MASH. Even his 'side' projects reek of class. But that's not all, two of his children, Rufus and Martha, are acclaimed musicians, talk about the Midas touch.
But he was born to be a singer/songwriter and, even at this stage of his a career, Here Come The Choppers is full of the unfettered enthusiasm of a man doing what he loves.
With Bill Frisell, Greg Leisz, Dave Piltch and Jim Keltner in tow the album was recorded with almost unseemly haste over four days. But what that's done is keep everything fresh, the weariness of familiarity hasn't had time to dim the fire.
Wainwright as a writer is incisive and acerbic, the title track was written at the start of the Iraq war and it typifies the man, thoughtful and intelligent. Instead of just protesting he aims and succeeds to stir debate. The subjects on Here Come The Choppers are obviously things he cares about but they are also written for the people who want their music to be thought provoking.
But he is a performer and My Biggest Fan provokes nothing other than a broad grin. How can you not smile at the line: 'My fan is so large he's an entourage'.
Music may no longer have ambitions to change things but while musicians like Loudon Wainwright III are around it can still rumble things up.
Michael Mee
Back on his songwriter's psychiatrist's couch for another bout of autobiographical musings and hang ups after taking time out for Social Studies' topical observations. Wry humour and poignant sadness remain his key notes rather than the self-flagellation practised the PMT generation who seem to have hijacked the confessional songbooth in recent years. Although the most striking song is Surviving Twin, in which he recounts his lifelong sense of competing with his dead father, it's the death of his mother in that provides the broken heart of the thirteen songs, most potently in the moving Homeless and the affectionate memoir that is White Winos.
Being orphaned at 54, estranged from his siblings, his own children long having fled the nest, not surprisingly prompts a whole set of ruminations. Growing old (Graveyard), the fears of being forgotten (Fresh Fossils), growing apart (Donations) and spending our last years on our own (the litany of loneliness that is Living Alone). Lyrically, he's as sharp as ever, a skill with words (unencumbered by over arrangements) that elevates the songs beyond self-pity and brings a universality to the feelings and such observations as those uncomfortable silences on the phone. There's a little of Loudon Wainwright in all of us, and a whole lot of all of us of a certain age in these songs.
Mike Davies
There seems to be no end to the musical lineage of the Wainwright offspring. Daughter of Loudon and Suzzy Roche, and half sister to Rufus and Martha, Lucy has clearly inherited the talent from both sides of the family. She's much more inclined to the folk side of things than her siblings though, her pure crystal voice ranging from soprano to alto with fluid ease, carrying airs of joy and melancholy on its wings.
Released last year, 8 Songs mixes up trad evergreens, covers and self-penned numbers, her appealing readings of Wild Mountain Thyme and an a cappella Barbara Allen set alongside Richard Shindell's wonderful travellers hymn Next Best Western and a lovely, joyously innocent version of Fleetwood Mac hit Everywhere.
Of her own songs, the double tracked vocals of Rather Go call to mind mom and her aunts' own group while the slow rolling Saddest Sound is an aching love song veined with hope and resignation. Best though is Bridge, a folk blues strummer where her voice soars from intimate confessional to open sky celebration.
More musically fleshed out, the second collection is the stronger of the two, her songwriting having gained in strength and confidence as ably demonstrated by the gorgeous Awhile (shades of Jimmy Buffet) and Snare Drum's snapshot of all too brief childhood, both of which show a strong folk pop sensibility.
Sounding a little like Zooey Deschanel, the bittersweet domestic waltz University Drive and the dreamy star kissed fluttering pop of Chicago beguile further while, joined by actress Martha Plimpton, she finishes up with a two parter of Springsteen's Hungry Heart, their world weary folksy version followed by an upbeat, handclapping chorus coda. She may have broken with sibling tradition by not writing songs about Loudon being a crap father, but otherwise the family name (both of them) again proves to have an enduring lustre.
Mike Davies October 2008
That title does rather set up expectations as to what the songs might be about. And, as the opening track has it, Loudon's little girl is certainly Bleeding All Over You. She may have recently married, but there's no lovey dovey cocooned in domestic harmony here.
Maybe she's just clearing out the stored up feelings and resentments of being hurt so they don't intrude into the marital bliss. If so you'd hope things like the soaring pop of You Cheated Me, Bleeding All Over You's letter to an ex-lover who's now a father, the disillusionment and unreliable lover of Jesus And Mary, the scuffed New Orleans lurching Hearts Club Band's finger to someone (dad?) who 'wrote a song a day' and was cruel in a different way than I was used to", the self-loathing in Jimi and the insecurities of the nakedly confessional, musically plaintive I Wish I Were have got things out of the system.
There's a definite darkness here, if not involving emotional instability and former beaus, then a meditation on mortality and failure; the latter embodied in the nervy folk blues of The George Song (about another ex who committed suicide), the former underpinning the baroque chamber moods of So Many Friends (where her voice slides down the scales) and the stark, wailing gothic blues brooding In The Middle Of The Night which (with vocal back-up from brother rufus) addresses mother Kate McGarrigle's (successful) battle with cancer.
Fortunately, this is balanced with notes of defiant hope (Tower Song) and certain playfulness. That's certainly the case in the gloriously Fleetwood Mac like poppiness of Comin' Tonight where she considers going to a gig by an old flame (maybe the one from Hearts Club Band) to rip off one of their melodies. And, while it may have been penned before she tied the knot with producer Brad Albetta, Niger River is a simple trad-hued folk song about making commitments, played out to cello and violin. Musically though, with contributors including Pete Townshend, Garth Hudson and Donald Fagen, there's little gloom, the commercial radio friendly appeal of Comin' Tonight echoed all over, especially so in You Cheated Me and, joined by mon, aunt Anna and first cousin Lily Lanken, her playful folksy jogging cover of Pink Floyd's See Emily Play. Rufus had best get used to sharing that Wainwright star spotlight..
www.marthawainwright.com
www.iknowyouremarried.com
Mike Davies May 2008
You'll already know about her recent EP and its vitriolic title track Bloody Mother F***ing A**hole, a payback ditty dedicated to dad Loudon for his less than paternal attention as a child, and it's on the fire spitting tracks like that, sexual politics belter Ball & Chain and G.P.T that the power of her voice and anger really rises.
But it's arguably the smokier side that serves her best, offsetting the acid edge of her lyrics with musical honeyed charm as, for example, on Far Away that sounds like a cross between The Carpenters and Across The Universe, Factory's bruised cry of displacement, the domestic tedium and relationship stagnation of This Life or the regret-veined These Flowers. She's blessed with an emotionally acrobatic voice, cracking with a choke, leaping with hope and aching with a forlorn lack of self-worth and defensiveness that, understandably given her childhood, informs many of the songs here, most notably TV Show and the warbling sweet jazzy blues Who Was I Kidding?
It may have been gestating and stewing in her blood and soul ever since she was a young girl but, deliciously topped by the circling melody of lurching waltz The Maker where brother Rufus adds accompaniment and Whither Must I Wander's reflection on mortality with its plaintive harp and piano hymnal setting, this is an album to build a life on.
Mike Davies
When he sings 'do I disappoint you in just being human' on the discordantly orchestrated Do I Disappoint You, or spits out ''tell me, do you really think you go to hell for having loved?' and 'I'm so tired of you, America' on the wearied Going To A Town, it's obvious Rufus is having a bit of a righteous strop. He's also prone to bouts of romantic insecurity and bitchy need with Slideshow both asking 'do I love you because you treat me so indifferently' and snapping ' I better be prominently featured in your next slideshow because I paid a lot of money to get you over here'.
Waspish, a bit of a queen and revelling in tortured, diva angst, it's a jot to have him back with this, his first self-produced album. Gloriously cabaret in mood, still infused with the spirit of Judy Garland, summoning images of staring out at rainy afternoons from the Brill buildings windows and dreaming of European boulevards, sly gigolos and cafes selling absinthe. Indeed, he's even got a lovely languid little number here called Tiergarden (the album was recorded in Berlin, his new home), while sleeve photos have him posing (in both senses) in lederhosen.
Sex clearly charges his creative batteries, affording both the tender on the violin jittered Brel inspired operatic Tulsa (dedicated to The Killers' Brandon Flowers) with its wonderful line 'you taste like potato chips in the morning', and the magnificently lust soaked, funky rocking glittering pop that is Between My Legs where he sings 'dancing without you, I shed a tear between my legs' and Sian Phillips turns up to provide a voice over finale.
With myriad guests that include sister Martha, mom Kate McGarrigle, Larry Mullins, the Thompsons Richard and Teddy, exec producer Neil Tennant, and Joan Wasser, it's another fabulous excursion into elegantly jaded languor. Illuminated by twinkling cerise fairylights and the reflections of a slightly rusted glitter ball, they shimmer across the acoustic guitar kissed swirling unconsummated desires of Sanssouci 'gambling the tiny shards of brass once my heart' and the studied ennui protestations of Not Ready To Love, indolently waltzing through the full blooded, doo wop and brassed up belting show finale title track farewell to a faded Hollywood. 'I'm tired of writing elegies to boredom,' he sings. But we're far from tired of listening to them. Pull up a cocktail and swoon.
Mike Davies June 2007
Here's another CD that's been wearing a big big hole through the "must get reviewed" pile for a couple of months, yet has obstinately refused to drag a conclusion out of my addled brain. But notice of the forthcoming re-screening of the BBC documentary has galvanised me into action.
It really is proving hard to meaningfully assess Rufus, at least at first. I'd known for a time that he was someone to watch/listen out for, his name had been touted round ever since well before the appearance of Want One, I'd never got round to hearing any of his music and my requests for review copies of his CDs fell on deaf ears at the promo companies. Success in finally obtaining a copy of Want Two, however, had persuaded me that I will after all need to backtrack to previous albums to make complete sense of Rufus' talent.
With such a talent, the big problem for a reviewer is how to cut through the hype and "explicit content" warnings and catch a valid reference point - for Rufus may be the son of a celebrity singer-songwriter, and claim to be one himself, but he produces music like no other singer-songwriter, and it's music that positively demands attention. Any s/s CD that starts off with a pseudo-classical, richly-clothed six-minute setting of the Agnus Dei (and it's brilliant, by the way!) is, you'll say, either plain unorthodox, seriously maverick or just plain twisted; and you'll have a good point there.
Want Two is almost too much to take in, an extraordinary mixture of heady piano-backed ballads (The Art Teacher), brooding and thoughtful lazy-lounge (Peach Trees), seemingly workaday, breezy adult-oriented rock (The One You Love), smalltown backporch folksiness (Hometown Waltz), pomp-rock (Old Whore's Diet), moody alt-rock, and wilful yet believable full-scale pastiches of anything from French chanson, through to Brandenburg-baroque (Little Sister), "Egyptian reggae" (Old Whore's Diet again) and glittering Broadway-style orchestration-production numbers (Memphis Skyline). Its simultaneous smoothness and swaggering assurance can be distinctly unsettling, even though it largely stays on the right side of the dangerously thin line leading to overkill. It can easily seem sickly, like a luxury chocolate, and too fulsome and almost too good to have to (or want to, geddit?!) devour in one sitting. Quite an aural mouthful, in fact. But make no mistake, it's a genuinely thrill-a-minute album.
Rufus is a hell of a lyricist; he's capable of both a surprisingly sensitive approach to detail (This Love Affair) and an imaginative approach to using deliberately provocative imagery (Gay Messiah). And what leaps out of the speakers straightaway is that the man's got a hell of a singing voice. A voice which is supremely strong, with an immediately identifiable timbre and approach to phrasing, sometimes just a little affectedly histrionic some might say but undeniably full of character. At the risk of appearing mildly sacrilegious, I was sometimes reminded of Freddie Mercury's posturing, but in a positive way. Perhaps the very impassioned nature of that voice doesn't quite gel with the idiom of every song he essays (Coeur De Parisienne sounds distinctly overwrought), but by and large it's an extremely effective vehicle for the expression of his lyrics. The occasional mismatch, where Rufus almost seems to be trying too hard to convince, is brought home by the pair of live tracks at the end of the CD; both sung in French, they tellingly contrast each other, in that Rufus uses his own piano accompaniment on the first (Coeur De Parisienne), whereas on the second (Quand Vous Mourez De Nos Amours) the altogether gentler playing style of his mother (Kate McGarrigle), taken together with the need to allow space in the texture for those delicious McGarrigle vocal harmonies, inspires a similarly gentler responsiveness in moulding Rufus' own vocal performance.
The very fact that Rufus has thus far received a mixed press, veering from unbridled adulation to intense indifference, may well be the indication of true greatness, or else it signals the emergence of a major talent that's destined for purely cult status rather than wholesale acceptance. After a number of false starts and indecisions, from hereon in (and even despite some nagging reservations) you can count me among the believers; I enjoyed my rich choccy-feast, and now (probably against my better judgement!) I Want More!
David Kidman
It's a cliché, I know, to brand Boys From The Abattoir as "difficult third album" time for the totally cool Leeds foursome, and so all credit to the girls for coming up with a sophisticated and mature offering fully worthy of its participants that in many ways rings the changes on its two predecessors yet remains entirely true to the WTW brand-name and the band's ultra-distinctive musical identity. First of all, what hasn't changed, without a doubt, is the girls' sheer consistency of output in the face of the striking, and often strikingly contrasted, songwriting and singing styles of the four of them (it's easy to identify which is witch - if you forgive the obvious homonymic pun!), which prove tellingly complementary. And the quality of the songs is once again outstanding, there's no other word for it; they encompass a great variety of mood and approach which is reflected in the diversity of the equally innovative musical settings. And the trademark WTW lush vocal harmonies and intensely assured acoustic guitar work are still firmly in place at the centre of the group sound.
But there are marked changes: for this new album, WTW have engaged the services of Dave Creffield (famous for his work with Leeds band Embrace) as producer, and in so doing, they claim, they've "become the instigators of a new genre of roots music" - "indie acoustic". Well I'd go along with that, if only because it can be interpreted as providing a convenient tag for the Witches' headily original sound-world, which has hitherto obstinately defied categorisation. And maybe in marketing terms the tag's a headline-grabber that might just get WTW some overdue attention from the more influential sectors of the industry. But whatever, the end product is tremendous.
Boys From The Abattoir takes a step back from the intimacy of the shiveringly beautiful, hushed aura and minimalist stance of Hands And Bridges and then expands the sound outwards again but in intriguingly different ways. On the majority of the eleven new songs this involves bringing on board a vibrantly edgy rhythm section (Jon Short on bass and Mick Bedford on drums), which keeps things on the move and the balance sharply defined; this is achieved spectacularly well. At the same time, greater depth is given to the overall picture by making the textures attractively richer, by the creative use of extra instrumental resources such as some stirring, burnished electric guitar (courtesy of Big Country's Bruce Watson) on Me Leaving Me, funky bluesy harmonica (John Burr) on Only Human, sweeping violin and cello (the enigmatic Fluff, latterly with the re-formed Incredible String Band) on three songs, as well as some percussion from James Goodwin and double bass from Dave Bowie. There's even a mini-brass-choir on the sort-of-title track, while at the same time the Witches have extended their own personal musical armoury with the addition of slide guitar (Bex) and mandolin (Pats).
Every track's a strongly individual composition, complete in itself of course, while different to, but recognisably from the same stable as, each of the rest, and as you'd expect each of the four girls proves herself once again to be a special talent in her own right, lending each track its definitive character and flavour. The assurance of the writing is stunning, whatever the feel or idiom of any particular groove, from Pats's narcotic love-song Rock 'n' Roll to Bex's punchy rap-rhythmed Horse To Water, Jools' darkly glistening string-soaked torch-song High Fire And High Water to Rach's pounding gothic anthem Me Leaving Me.
But in truth there's so much great writing on display here (musically and lyrically) that you can easily forgive (in fact, I rather liked) the occasional cheeky nods to folkier territory: for instance the insistent chiming mando-riff of Yorkshire Boy (chart single here we come!), which is pure Show Of Hands, and the perky schoolgirl-chant of Jenny Thornton & The Boys From The Abattoir which recalls While&Matthews' Class Reunion...
Notwithstanding the Witches' strong reputation as a fearsome live outfit, this is a fully credible studio outing that would put many a studio-based band in the shade. And it's an album that already has a place assured on my selective best-of-2007 list.
www.wakingthewitch.co.uk
www.myspace.com/rachpatsjoolsbex
David Kidman January 2007
This is stupendous. This Leeds-based female foursome stunned the roots-acoustic scene with their debut release Like Everybody around 18 months ago, and I forecast then that following an album of such promise they would either go on to infinitely greater things - that is, if they lasted as a unit - or else implode and vanish. I'm so, so glad that the former has proved to be the case. Well almost, for one of the original four, Michelle Plum, has since departed the lineup (confirming her status as an accidental tourist, you might say!), her place having been taken almost exactly a year ago by the amazing Bex (Becky Mills). But these Women Acting Independently have come up with a very much stronger and more focused offering this time round, and much of the credit for that must go to the enhanced level of their confidence in the adrenalin-inducing drive of really working together to create something extra-special out of four already damn special individual talents. Not that they ever lacked confidence in themselves, as Like Everybody had demonstrated they always had it in spades, but now the extra dimension in intimacy and empathy, both between each other and in terms of their actually reaching their audience (which had always been a strong feature of their live gigs right from the beginning) is absolutely startling.
The really important change from Like Everybody is that they've dropped the bass and drums from the menu; on Hands And Bridges the instrumental textures are kept absolutely to a minimum, stripped barer than naked almost, with on many tracks no more than one or two acoustic guitars as backdrop for those sublime voices. Whether solo or in intriguing and inventive harmony, or chanting or vocalising in unison, those voices are the cornerstone of WTW - utterly bewitching (sic!) and you really do hang on every note and nuance. Those voices have the unearthly power to chill you to the very bone or else reduce you to quivering tears, I jest not. There's pain, passion and delicacy all in there, and the emotional temperature is heart-stopping, seriously pin-drop and ethereal. It helps, naturally, that each of the four lasses has such a strikingly individual vocal personality, but (and this is so seldom true of a group with a combination of intensely individual voices) they also meld so enticingly together and their keen sense of internal balance is unerring, even unearthly. And when the lasses' songwriting is of such an intensely high standard too, you've a hell of a combination.
They seem to have learnt, too, that less is more - there's an impressive concentration, a mature economy of expression in this new batch of songs, especially in the respect that they don't any longer feel the need to rely on stretching songs out to four minutes by (say) repeating riffs, chord sequences or vocal phrases right on to the fade. On this new CD, Jools Parker, Rachel Goodwin and Becky each contribute two songs, whereas Patsy gets four; even so, the album hangs together really well, not least because it's so very evident that they're all so keenly involved in the process of making each other's songs come alive in performance and interpretation. Without wishing to seem picky, I've absolutely gotta single out Becky's two songs for special mention; Man Of Moon, especially, is Track Of The Year so far for me, conveying an unsettling aura of other-worldly emotion although it's dealing with an ostensibly simple scenario; just revel in its weird vocal decorations (fanciful perhaps, but I hear Native American influences in there somehow, and then there's that low flute-like crooning, the telling juxtaposition of staccato and legato phrasing, ooh so much – and all in the space of just 5½ minutes). In fact, I can't over-praise Becky's contributions to the whole album, the way her stunning voice weaves into the WTW tapestry on whatever level of emphasis or at whatever register she chooses to sing, and as for her guitar work - it's a paragon of invention and control. Then there's Jools' brilliant Bluer Than This, which starts out like a broody, soulful Helen Watson number, but develops into a bit of a torch song, minimally yet unusually ornamented, with an extraordinarily haunting wordless interlude that Rachel just drops in ghostlily towards the end, as if from another level of the stratosphere altogether (Rachel may have the most obviously "young" voice of them all, but its quality of girlishness is eerie rather than cute). Although Patsy's songs tend to be built around a specific rhythmic element, whether in the guise of a stopped-down guitar riff or a phonetic unison repeated vocal figure, the emotional impact is still invariably highly poignant and strongly characterised. And she's not averse to reworking strong older material in the group context either - there's a strikingly different take on Always One Like Her, here done in a lively, sneaky acappella mode.
But as I said already, each of the four band members brings her own individual voice to her own song (I mean in composing terms as well as literally/vocally); on first playthrough, I tried a "blind tasting" to see if I could correctly spot the writer of each song, and (not bragging, honest!) I scored full marks - they're that distinctive. So who was it said WTW are Britain's answer to the Wailin' Jennys? I've got news for you - they're even better. Trust me!
David Kidman
David Kidman
The Waite Collective - Flights Of Angels (Cock Robin Music)
Seasoned festival-goers will, I'm sure, already know and appreciate the vocal talents of the female members of Chester's Waite family – mother Mal and daughters Rebecca and Katrina (I hesitate to say the trio are already making waves on the scene!). Their repertoire is intelligently chosen, also admirably wide-ranging, and their individual and collective versatility is at once apparent in their ability to switch between melody and harmony lines and between different musical styles with consummate and comparable ease. From straightforward traditional to well-crafted contemporary (Steve Knightley, Allan Taylor) to Mama Cass! They've unearthed some gems too – Nick Lines' Heavy Horses and Chris Rogers' Vampire's Prayer are but two of their welcome discoveries. Each of the three ladies is a very fine singer, and the collective empathy of their harmony work can be breathtaking as well as beautiful and stimulating, for their voices blend well, and virtually effortlessly. Their versions of Ewan MacColl's powerful Terror Time and the West Gallery transcription of the 18th century Cat's Catch are probably the best, and most contrasted, examples of their expertise in this field. The CD's title is taken from Shakespeare's Hamlet – "… let flights of angels sing thee to thy rest". And while that quotation nicely reflects the rough thematic tenor and overall musical character of the CD, it also pinpoints what for some listeners may be its downside, in that it's all perhaps a bit too polite and soft-focus in character (the Waites don't do rip-roaring, raucous or gutsy, in other words). The gentleness of their approach leads to a tendency to mildly underwhelm the listener, which is more prevalent on a CD than it is live, where their singing comes across more compellingly. Also, one or two of the early selections (I'm thinking of Bonny Portmore and the Connemara Cradle Song in particular here) are taken a mite slowly, the resultant lessening of forward momentum frustrating the more rigorous exigencies of home listening. Around half of the tracks feature a limited degree of (undistracting) accompanying instrumentation, courtesy of Mal's own guitar, Chris Harvey's keyboard, and contributions from musician friends from Chester (Chris Lee, Nick Mitchell and Dave Manley), while Alison Younger and Graham Waite chip in to swell the chorus on James Keelaghan's Sing My Heart Home. There's a slightly artificial ambience to some of the tracks, specifically to the voices themselves on occasion (a curious woolliness to the backing-chorus reverb is how I'd describe the effect on the Waites' otherwise superbly arranged and performed rendition of the standard Fever, for instance). But these are minor matters, for whether singing together in gentle harmony or regaling the ears with their poised solo work, they're always worth a listen, even if inevitably some songs work better than others. And the hidden track at the end, a lovely rendition of The Parting Glass, provides a fitting conclusion to the disc.
David Kidman
Over the years, Waits' rasping growl has deepened and transmuted into a unique and brutishly fearsome thing, like some goblin gargling a mix of grit and second hand phlegm while he strides simian-like around the stage like a ringmaster from Mr Dark's Pandemonium Shadow Show in Ray Bradbury's Something Wicked This Way Comes, an image that surely informed his casting as the Devil in Terry Gilliam's The Imaginarium of Dr Parnassus.
Trawled from 11 different dates on the tour, recorded in cities that range from Birmingham and Edinburgh to Milan and Tulsa, it's a raucous affair with Waits leading a fiery band that includes son Casey on muscular drums, Seth Ford-Young playing upright bass, keyboardist Patrick Warren, and Omar Torez delivering guitar work that spins from demented blues to delicate jazz. Another son, Sullivan, also puts in guest appearance on sax and clarinet. Things kick off in Birmingham UK with the fusion of Lucinda and Ain't Goin Down from the Brawlers collection, stripping them to the bone and welding their very different styles into one lurching troll-like stomp. Do not let kids hear him singing. They won't sleep for weeks.
The it's off to Edinburgh for a lollopping rework of Singapore into a blustering sea shanty as conceived by Kurt Weill and down to Tulsa for the fabulously clattering and clanging Get Behind The Mule with its wailing blues harmonica and work song rhythm.
There's more unhinged volcanic trampling to be found on the loose-limbed blues and beatnik jazzy workouts of Such A Scream, Goin' Out West and Metropolitan Glide. But, if not soft exactly, there's also Waits-style dark-stained bourbon breath tenderness to be found on Dirt In The Ground, a heartbreakingly magnificent Fannin Street, the ragged soulful Falling Down, and The Part You Throw Away's Spanish guitar and gypsy campfire romancing.
It is a mark of the man's alchemical brilliance that he takes two songs, I'll Shoot The Moon and Lucky Day, from the notoriously difficult and inaccessible The Black Rider, the songs for his stage collaboration with Robert Wilson and William S. Burroughs, and reinvents them as showstoppers; accompanied by piano, the latter the closest here to the days of The Heart Of Saturday Night. You had to be there, but if you weren't this is the next best thing.
As those who've experienced him live will know, he also spins between song stories of wit, charm, bizarre facts and downright fabrication. The second CD here, Tom Tales, links them together in a 36 minute monologue (his speaking voice a lot less gravelly), and while some will be familiar from interviews, it's an unexpectedly engaging bonus even if you're unlikely to be playing on a regular basis. You can, however, find transcripts if you sign up on his new website and read at leisure.
Mike Davies December 2009
Listening to a Tom Waits album can never be described as an easy experience, understanding him is even more difficult. But like anything worthwhile the experience is ultimately a hugely satisfying one.
Waits, blessed with a voice that sounds as if someone's carving strips off his vocal chords as he's singing, mines the darkest recesses of the human soul. When not satisfied with his efforts, he then searches a little deeper and a little further.
In both style, or lack of it, and content he is the antithesis of a 'showbusiness' musician, he growls and snarls his way through Real Gone but what he unerringly uncovers is the core beliefs of his muse.
Wait's originality is borne out of a complete lack of fear. The ability to conceive of an album that is at times optimistically funky and then able to become the soundtrack for a post-apocalyptic wasteland is the mark of a genius. To make it work as well as Top Of The Hill does, for example, elevates Waits to the very top of modern musical innovators, (admittedly not an overcrowded market). A complete faith in his own imagination and ability is both justified and a cause for celebration.
It may be stating the obvious to those already familiar with Waits, to say that he has an innate feel for the blues. His voice alone carries the sound of a lifetime's hardship but its much more than that, he feels the songs as deeply as he sings them. Nowhere is that better demonstrated than on the beautifully haunting Sins Of The Father.
But to restrict artists like Tom Waits to a 'label' is both intolerable and futile. He pushes and presses himself and his music to the absolute limit, Hoist That Rag may well be largely impenetrable to anyone other than the author but it's impact is simply devastating.
Real Gone is a raw and bleeding piece of music that wears its heart on its sleeve, Dead and Lovely is as much a romantic and heartfelt ballad as anything sung by some charlatan in a nice suit with a slick hair cut. It's just that in Waits world, hearts get broken and flowers wither and die. There are few things left in this world that are truly real and honest, Tom Waits is one of the few.
Michael Mee
Rick Wakeman is an oddity to me. While I love his playing, I really do not like his writing. His albums leave me cold, and have for a long time now. Where he really shines is in Yes. Here he is given music to enliven, music to put colours into. Under the awesome imagination of Jon Anderson, he finds scope and more for his considerable abilities.
Dave Cousins is the heart and soul of a band called The Strawbs. They have been around for many years. In fact, Rick Wakeman used to play with them before joining Yes. It seems the Dave Cousins could never find a way to use the virtuoso talents of Mr. Wakeman until after he had left. The Strawbs ventured into the world of progressive rock, and did so quite successfully. Sadly, Rick was not around to help with those halcyon days, save for the occasional session work.
This CD reunites the old friends for the first time in over thirty years. There are a few new songs, and some older Strawbs songs are dusted off and given new life. Yes, Dave and Rick are old friends, drinking buddies from their 'good ol' days'. But can they play together? Can they make it work after all these years? Would this be just a nostalgia album, wiping away a tear for auld lang syne?
Yes, it does work, and no, it is not an nostalgic look back. It is a nod of recognition between two accomplished artists, an acknowledgment that time may have passed, but it has not passed these two by. They work together as if they they had never stopped, as if they could read each other openly and honestly. Dave Cousins didn't just pick out a few random tracks to play with Rick, the songs are heard here are if they are brand new. They are given new life on this album, and they work as good, if not even better than they did as the original versions. They work because Rick Wakeman has added entire new meanings to the words; entire pages of passion to the work. This is especially true of the passionate So Shall Our Love Die?, the gentle guitar ballad from the Nomadness album. The song is fragile, but Rick does a beautiful job of catching the delicate strength of the song, and reinforcing the beauty of the melody. His work here rivals anything he did with Yes, even the lovely Turn of the Century.
There is one complaint, though. The opening track is called The Young Pretender, and features violin work by Ric Sanders of Fairport Convention fame. I find this spoils an otherwise good song. One almost longs for Dave Lambert of the Strawbs to step up and say "Now hold on a mo, let's have a gander at that!", then lay down guitar work to really capture the fire of the song.
Of the original songs, I find the sweet fragrance of the title track truly captures what Cousins and Wakeman can do, although Can You Believe is certainly excellent, as well. Higher Germanie is a traditional song, but seems quite unremarkable to me. It has the same melody as a dozen other traditional songs; this one is hardly noteworthy enough to warrant inclusion here.
On the whole, an excellent CD, well worth the effort. It is a testament to the abilities of two great men, Dave Cousins, the songwriter, and Rick Wakeman, the musician. Together they make a formidable team.
www.strawbsweb.co.uk
www.witchwoodrecords.co.uk
Doug LeBlanc
This, the latest Walkabouts offshoot project from the band's key members Chris Eckman and Carla Torgerson makes deliberate attempts to avoid the "M" word that has - rightly or wrongly - dogged Chris and Carla over the years. Of course, that's a tall order, for melancholy (with that capital M!) has always been a major element of their stock-in-trade. And, although the lion's share of the songs on Fly High Brave Dreamers are unquestionably about hope, even hope can't altogether avoid introspective melancholy, especially when the very way Chris writes (and scores instrumentally) always lends a certain air of the "M" word to proceedings. But I promise I won't mention it again... What we have here on this new 11-tracker is a mostly coherent set of ten new Eckman songs (the eleventh, Salad Days, being a Young Marble Giants cover) that share a generally uplifting demeanour. Some of these I like very much - Taking Leave Of Our Senses is wonderfully intimate, if a mite claustrophobic in a kinda Junkies way, while Long Slow River builds cautiously to its inexorable chorus and Rising Backwards uses a cool jazz ambience and confidential vocalising to accentuate the gently nagging water-torture repetition of the lyric's gnomic poetry. The level and kind of detail in the musical settings is very typical of Chris's skill for arranging and selecting just the right kind of instrumentation, with guitars used to counterpoint the keyboards and occasional programming rather than the other way round; sometimes this works against the songs however, with an over-sweet, slightly sickly ambience that cloys (as on the opener, At The Twilight's Last Gleaming) - basically, such songs can easily stand a less cosy, less mellow setting, I feel. But when the appealing combination of texturing and intricate detail gets to balance just right, the music of Chris and Carla is at its most persuasive. Its occasional drawback can be its elusiveness, but as is often the case a closer acquaintance reaps closer rewards and I'd guess Walkabouts devotees won't be disappointed.
David Kidman December 2007
The Walkabouts - Acetylene (Glitterhouse)
Still around and fronted by Chris Eckman and Carla Torgerson after some 20 years, a flirtation with major label backing during their stint with Virgin, this sees the band re-energised and reborn with a potent rock edge after a period of quiet, atmospheric late night city in the rain albums.
Recorded pretty much as live during the run up the last Bush election, you can feel the anger and foreboding in the music and the apocalyptic nature of the songs, spookily F*** Your Fear ("the reckoning is in the air") and Coming Up For Air (this ain't hell, it's a holding tank") were both recorded on 9/11 2004, the latter clocking in at nine minutes eleven seconds. On Sept 13 they recorded Kalashnikov ("they're bulldozing the suburbs down, putting up a razor fence"), the same day America lifted its ban on the sale of assault weapons.
Understandably it's a raw, electrified album (Eckman says the fantasy blueprint was Neil Young recorded in Wire's studio), guitars slicing through the melodies like barbed wire, ripping flesh from the songs, leaving the likes of the snakelike Whisper, Before This City Wakes ("divide and conquer is the new mathematics") and the title track dripping blood. Even when Devil In The Details and the nine minute The Last Ones open with Torgenson in whispery prowling form things wind up in sonic eruptions that cram 60s psychedelic wig outs into the wind tunnel of Young's Rust Never Sleeps. Acetylene torch songs indeed.
Mike Davies
The Walkabouts - Drunken Soundtracks (Glitterhouse)
Given their general lack of mainstream success, Chris Eckman and Carla Torgerson are nothing if not prolific. I've got a dozen albums in the collection (not including their Chris & Carla projects) and that's by no means complete. They also regularly issue mail order only releases and turn up on tribute albums. And then there's the tracks that never make it to album. This latest 2CD compilation covers the years 1995-2001, gathering together studio material that 'got away' as well as major label singles, tribute rarities, covers, a remix (a country take on The Light Will Stay On) and two tracks (one being Serge Gainsbourg's Bonnie and Clyde recorded live in Belgium with the Nighttown Orchestra) from the label's mail order only catalogue.
Although recent years have seen them experiment with dub, jazz and experimental rock (listen to the Bone Mix of On The Day), theirs is consistently the sound of dark gothic folk-soul, sometimes distilling the ambience of desert nights at others capturing the rain washed neons of the city, brooding, melancholic, sometimes downright doom laden at others veined with a rich romanticism, almost always tinctured with the sort of cinematic textures found in the works of Wim Wenders, Jim Jarmusch and David Lynch.
There's 29 examples contained here, progressing backwards from their 2001 recordings to 1996's Theme from Where The Air Is Dark and Cool from the mail order soundtrack. With such riches it's difficult to play favourites. So for those who revel in their offbeat covers included here are Serge Gainsbourg's Sorry Angel, Neil Young's Albuquerque, 22 Pistepirkko's Scandinavian Midwest noir Shot Bayou, Mickey Newbury tribute How Many Times (Must The Piper Be Paid For His Songs), a suitably fractured and fevered reading of Townes Van Zandt's Sanitorium Blues and, just to illustrate their diversity, Neil Diamond's Glory Road and Antonio Carlos Jobim's Corcovado. And for devotees of the self-penned rumbling storms and glowering angels, suffice to say the inclusion of Thieves Like Us (a mini epic of fugitive lovers played out south of the border) and the title track are more than worth the price of admission on their own. Best listened to through a haze of Mescal.
Mike Davies
Hank Williams, You Wrote My Life is a superb title and what a life Slim must have had. This is good old style country played in a contemporary way and may even get some people searching back and checking out old Hank himself. America's Wives is another that mixes old and new country and has the obligatory steel guitar from Paul Franklin to the fore. The Way I Am is a statement from Slim and it is Nashville through and through. He has such an easy way and that steel guitar reverberates again. It's Never Too Hard To Be Humble treads a well worn country theme of trucks, not surprising seeing that Slim was a trucker in a previous life. Slide guitar on this is a standout and it sounds like it was recorded in one take. It's said that country music covers four main themes; prison, farms, trucks & trains and Slim more than covers the trucks theme. That is confirmed on the final three tracks. 300 Miles is a true American tale, the Honky Tonk Truck Drivin' Songs continues the theme and things are rounded off perfectly with 18:18 Wheeler, which has the listener feeling like they are in a moving truck. Stuart Duncan's fiddle keeps the pace up and makes it a true driving song.
This is a superb collection of Nashville inspired songs and well worth a place in your collection even if you don't like country music. However, if you are looking for Slim's blues side then check out his sublime last album, No Paid Holidays, with standout tracks such as the rich sounding Blues For Howard, the shuffling You're The One I Need and the heart aching And When I Die.
David Blue August 2009
Hot, man!... This guy has an intriguing history - born in Boston but raised in North Carolina, Watermelon Slim (Bill Homans) was the only Vietnam veteran to record a full-length LP during the war (d' you really need to know that, trivia junkies?!), but it's only in recent years that he's become a full-time bluesman, after a time farming watermelons in Oklahoma (hence that stage name!). With his band The Workers, he released several award nominations for his eponymous NorthernBlues debut record, and hearing The Wheel Man it's easy to see why - his individual brand of blues, all driven and punchy, delivered with a raw Okie twang, is both authentic and original, born of the soil and hard sweat as well as a lifetime of truckin', the real deal. Slim's prowess on harmonica, dobro and slide guitar has become well nigh legendary, and the weathered, gritty intensity of his singing proves a perfect foil for that of his playing: this guy's got real character!… He's one of those that's lived it all, and is determined to get his pleasure now while he can, giving it all he's got. Sounds like he's been given one last chance and he's gonna make as much out of his life now as he ever can (well I just found out he suffered a near-fatal heart attack five years back that put things into perspective, so there goes!). Most of the songs are Slim's own compositions, shot through with a lived-in, hard-bitten realism, but Slim also turns in biting covers of material by Slim Harpo and Furry Lewis. Slim's assembled a crack band to help him realise his vision, and they can cope with anything thrown at them (from delta, jump and boogie through to swampy zydeco-fuelled grooves); Slim's "Workers" here are Ronnie McMullen and Ike Lamb (guitars - responsible for that "big guitar sound"), Cliff Belcher (bass) and Michael Newberry (drums), with special guests including none other than Magic Slim, also Dennis Borycki and David Maxwell (pianists). There's also a couple of tracks where the unbridled power of Slim's voice (acappella, or as near as dammit) conquers all: the extraordinary Sawmill Holler, and the harp-ridden Jimmy Bell. But the whole of the Wheel Man album makes a big impact: thrusting modern truck-drivin' blues at its most raw and vital.
www.watermelonslim.com
www.northernblues.com
David Kidman October 2007
This is Watermelon Slim's debut for NorthernBlues and builds on his critically acclaimed Up Close And Personal album which I reviewed last year. He has toured constantly since and this has given him a toughness that is transparent on his new disc. Hard Times is a strong opener and confirms his status as one of the rising stars on the Blues scene. Driving drums from Michael Newberry and scorching slide guitar from Slim make this one of the best opening tracks that I have heard this year. Slim is a former truck driver and delves into his past with great regularity, Dumpster Blues being a case in point. This is electric blues of the first degree and The Workers, the aforementioned Newberry on drums, Ike Lamb on guitar and Cliff Belcher on bass, give great backing to Slim's affected vocal. The only out and out cover on the album is the classic Baby Please Don't Go. This has been covered so many times but Slim takes it back close to the original and turns in a great version. Devil's Cadillac is co-written by drummer Newberry and is a slow, rhythmic blues on a familiar theme. Slim cranks it up on the fast paced and good fun Check Writing Woman (recently played on Paul Jones' Radio 2 show). Possum Hand is a slow harmonica led blues instrumental, written by Ike Lamb. Slim shows that he can handle acoustic slide as well on Frisco Line which sounds like an authentic old time blues (apart from the drums), enough said.
There's more than a bit of Robert Cray's style in Ash Tray which is another electric slide song. He returns to his former employment again on Mack Truck, a fast paced Kansas style offering with excellent harmonica. Bad Sinner has brooding slide guitar as Slim reaches top form and his Dobro playing on Folding Money Blues is sheer class. You can just imagine him sitting on the front porch playing this. Juke Joint Woman is an up-tempo shuffler and Hard Labor is electric Chicago, showing that he and the band can play in many styles. They finish with Eau De Boue which is sung completely in French and tips its hat to Cajun. Fortunately, there is a full translation in the sleeve notes. Watermelon Slim continues to go from strength to strength. Catch him if you can.
www.northernblues.com
www.watermelonslim.com
David Blue April 2006
Think of duets, and who springs to mind? George and Tammy; Porter and Dolly; Conway and Loretta (or, more recently, Jack White?) And, of course, Emmylou and Gram. The duet has been a staple of modern recent country music and, when done well, can be a marvellous thing. Now Australian singer-songwriter Barb Waters has joined that hallowed list with Rosa Duet, 10 songs that are guaranteed to bring a smile to your face. The idea for the album grew out of the kind of back porch, kitchen-table singalongs that Waters loves. A couple of guitars, a few friends and magic appears. Waters has captured that essence on this album; 10 disparate songs that not only showcase her fine singing voice, but also allow her fellow dueters (ists?) to take their share of the glory. Standout tracks are a wonderful When Will You Come My Way, with Rob Snarski, of the Blackeyed Susans; Wipe Away The Tears, a classic, jangling song with Lisa Miller and Rebecca Barnard, both established country and rockabilly artists Down Under. Rosa Duet is sterling stuff; simply produced, with just enough instrumentation and, of course, those voices.
John Stacey
By his early 20's Ben Waters (PJ Harvey's cousin for those of you that like to know that sort of thing) had already played with some of the giants of British rock such as Mick Jagger and Pete Townshend. He also played at Jools Holland's wedding and led the great boogie-woogie pianist to say "boogie-woogie is alive and well. Ben Waters has got the touch and feel for it".
A few years on sees the release of his first album for Hypertension. The title track does what it says on the tin - a high octane boogie with twinkle fingers Waters on piano. A bit more vocal attack would have set the song up perfectly, especially on the Beach Boys style chorus. Tiny Planet is another boogie with great interaction between Waters' piano and Clive Ashley's saxophone. It is a good piece of social commentary. It's hard to categorise Booker but it builds well and is an homage to James Booker who had a great influence on the young Waters as well as teaching Dr John and Harry Connick Jnr to play piano. The Sky Fell Down is the most commercial song so far and good enough to match chart bands such as The Hoosiers and their ilk. Helicon Boogie has more piano and sax competition with the sax, played by guest Derek Nash, being more than a match on this intriguing instrumental.
Amos Milburn's Roomin House Movie is a shuffling boogie and just good time music played for the fun of it. Mother Natures Molecules has increased pace and you certainly can't criticize his energy. There's a bit of Nick Lowe in his and partner Richard Hymas' songwriting style. The Wasp is a high paced boogie-woogie with sax taking the part of the wasp. Waters' muscles on his left arm must be of Popeye proportions. Who U Lay has funky bass from Hymas and keyboards from Waters and is only one step away from a Steely Dan song. He saves one of his slowest songs to finish with and Inconsequential shows that he has more than one tone to his voice. There are touches of Squeeze in this and the sax fade out is top class. Jools Holland was correct!
David Blue August 2008
Muddy Waters - Electric Mud (Originally released on Cadet/Concept, October 5, 1968, Re-released on Chess, March 31, 1997)
Amazingly, I find no reviews of Muddy Waters material on the NetRhythms website. Time to set the record straight methinks. OK, so this album isn't exactly a new release (a little difficult since Muddy passed away in 1983), but it's new to me, so that's all the excuse I need.
I've got a few recordings by the blues legend in my collection, but this is one I missed. In fact, it would have stayed missing had it not been for an episode of the excellent BBC4 series "The Blues", featuring Electric Mud. Anyway, after watching the archive footage and listening to tracks from the original album, I decided to buy it the next day. Unfortunately, so did a fair few of the other viewers. Imagine now, a company that sells 30, maybe 40 copies of an old blues album a year, suddenly gets requests for thousands all on one day. Just a guess, but maybe that's why it took over 2 months to arrive.
So when I got back off holiday, the first thing I did was start playing the eagerly awaited disc. On first play, I was a little disappointed. I was listening on headphones due to the lateness of the hour, which maybe didn't help. Also, the quality of early stereo recordings leaves a bit to be desired and the 'phones emphasised the left ear only, right ear only stereo effect. The choice of material was good though, and I thought it showed promise. The next day, after catching up on my sleep, I played it again, this time through speakers. Mmmm. Maybe something is stirring here. This is actually quite good. The mix sounded much better; the speakers smoothing out the apparent disjointed nature of the recording and making the vocals breathe more. By the end of the second play, I wanted to put it on repeat for the rest of the evening. I was hooked.
There are only a couple of self penned songs on the album, which consists mostly of well known, yet heavily reworked covers of material by Willie Dixon, Charles Williams and James Cotton. Also included, is a version of Jagger/Richards track "Let's Spend The Night Together", perhaps as thanks for the Stones taking their name from one of his songs or maybe for covering many of his early hits, helping revive his own career when it was at a low ebb.
Stylistically, the music is very much of the period. Jimi Hendrix was recording Electric Ladyland and Miles Davis released the controversial electric jazz album Bitches Brew around this time and this record sounds very much like a blend of the two. Wailing guitars and funky bass licks provide the backing with Muddy's monumental voice soaring over them, distorted and full of reverb. Spinetingling stuff now, imagine the impact in 1968.
Thing is, it's not so much a Muddy Waters record, but a record featuring Muddy Waters, if you know what I mean. This is an album loathed and despised by many blues purists, but I'm not one of those. To me, music is music, and if you listen to this album with an open mind, then the marriage of late 60's electric jazz and psychedelia with the one of the most distinctive blues voices of them all, produces something quite unique and extraordinary. Just give it the space it needs and enjoy.
Incidentally, the sleeve notes were pretty comprehensive and the pictures of Muddy at the hairdressers, complete with curlers and a hairnet were worth the price of the disk alone. All in all, a cracking album and well worth the paltry £7.99 it cost from 101CD.co.uk. Good value as long as you don't mind the wait.
Andy Pearson
This is a curious new artistic venture from the ex-Pink-Floyd supremo whose uncompromising stance on the importance of freedom to the individual had produced some of the most enduring and successful works from the band's later years, from Dark Side Of The Moon through to The Wall. He began work on it as long ago as 1989, during the bicentenary of the French Revolution, on hearing of the creation of an original libretto by the songwriter Etienne Roda-Gil and his wife Nadine, which portrayed the events and spirit of the Revolution through a multitude of perspectives using a circus as a central theatrical framing device and metaphor. Roger was attracted by the libretto's power, and by its parallel application to contemporary events and philosophies close to his own heart, and set about creating a full orchestral score in collaboration with Etienne. Before it could be finished, Nadine died of leukaemia, hence the delay in the work coming to fruition; but now we have a recording of the final score which Roger had undertaken in collaboration with Rick Wentworth. It's certainly an ambitious project, and Roger has evidently immersed himself in its complexities with the fullest commitment. The problem for me is that it's not been possible to assess the work to the optimum level of critical appraisal, simply because the promotional edition consists of just the two audio discs, with no synopsis of the action and no supporting libretto to follow while listening (these are de-rigeur for opera critics, I hasten to add) and no detailed notes. There's no indication of the work's dramatic structure (although it's stated to be in three acts, the music flows continuously), and it's just not easy to follow the action properly when we're given little or no idea of which character is singing at any given moment or of that character's role within the plot as it unfolds, even when that character is voicing a static reflection on the action. (Naturally, the finally-released package includes proper background notes and the full libretto, as well as a DVD documentary chronicling the history of the project and the making of the recording, and by the time you read this the opera will have received its staged première, in Poland.)
But as for the purely musical impact, well, there's no denying that Roger's first essay in operatic composition is a brave, if flawed one. Flawed because his concept of "acceptable" dramatic expression, though ostensibly rooted in "serious" opera as exemplified by the Italian late-Romantic school (Mascagni, Puccini et al), equally has something in common with the over-expressed gesturings of the music-theatre and even the musical. The orchestral scoring, too, while not in any way incompetent, betrays a certain reluctance to depart from elements that are perceived as "operatic convention" and which almost come across as clichés of the genre. Bold instrumental gestures aren't out of place in this kind of work, of course, but a little too often their impact is deliberately underlined for the listener rather than merely underscored with any subtlety of instrumental texture. In this recording, the incorporation of sound-effects for "atmosphere" during much of the score distracts too rather than aiding appreciation of the action; dramatic coups are invariably best conveyed purely by the music itself, which should stand alone on its own pictorial merits. It goes without saying, though, that the actual recording is state-of-the-art for an opera, immediate and bold with a wide dynamic range; and the performances are suitably spirited and committed. Bass-baritone Bryn Terfel was a good choice for portraying the principal characters of the Ringmaster, the Troublemaker and King Louis, while tenor Paul Groves and soprano Ying Huang make the best of their own leading roles; there's also an intriguing cameo part for the Senegalese Ismael Lo. There are some effective choral contributions, notably in the defiant "In Paris there's a rumble..." section, but at several other moments the dramatic impact is spoilt by the use of a kids' chorus who sing in what sounds like a misplaced stage-cockney (their To Take Your Hat Off is more akin to a chirpy Disney musical number than an operatic chorus!). Elsewhere, the score has a weakness which is common to many operas: ie. some of the early sections are dramatically insubstantial, even weak, their purely episodic or scene-setting nature betraying or occasioning their thinness of invention; things improve significantly as the action gathers pace, however, as you might expect, and some later episodes are genuinely stirring.
Whatever my reservations, though (principally stemming from my own love of opera as a musical experience and valid art-form), I still think the work is worth a listen - whether you're a Pink Floyd buff or not - as a valid artistic statement; after all, many "classical" composers who wrote operas and vocal works didn't achieve their greatest artistic credibility with opera but with purely instrumental forms, so all credit to Roger for trying. And since the work is sung in English, language should not be the barrier to understanding that it can be for newcomers to opera as an art-form. For, more than just an operatic history of the French Revolution, Ça Ira is a piece examining the potential of humanity for change (after all, its very title, taken from a revolutionary song of the period, translates as "there is hope"). And there will always be a place within artistic endeavours for the honest expression of such views.
www.ca-ira.com
www.roger-waters.com
David Kidman August 2006
"You reached for the secret too soon
You cried for the moon
Shine on you crazy diamond."
It is impossible to listen to In the Flesh without trying and failing, to choke back a tear at the sad news of Syd Barrett's death. Wish You Were Here and Shine On You Crazy Diamond particulary take on an obvious added poignancy. Unintentionally, Roger Waters has offered his friend the perfect, loving epitaph.
Waters and Barrett were the creative geniuses behind the early Floyd, theirs was the band that defined and still does, the wonder of the psychedelic 60s. Waters and Pink Floyd have been variously accused of being overblown, too arty and pretentious. If this 2-CD and DVD set does nothing else, it shows what a great rock musician Roger Waters is.
True artists dream bigger dreams than us mere mortals, they think on a grander scale and then make those thoughts real. A lot of In The Flesh is theatrical, it's meant to be, Waters is as visual an artist as he is audio.
However, some of the guitar riffs, particularly on Another Brick In The Wall are blistering and the song itself, apocalyptic in tone, is as far removed from the fey and foppish as it's possible to get. Conversely, Mother is as open and simple as any singer songwriter's best effort, Waters dispels a whole lot of myths in those two songs alone.
Obviously, he could have taken an easier path to even more fame and fortune with In The Flesh but, as he has always spurned one and has no need of the other, this is a wide-ranging and eclectic collection. Breathe, Time, Money and Comfotably Numb represent the 'hits, while the inclusion of the The Bravery Of Being Out Of Range and The Pros and Cons of Hitchhiking and Each Small Candle show that Waters' creative juices didn't stop flowing with the acrimonious Floyd split.
The DVD, which completes the set, is both a gem and a surprise. A gem because Waters has gathered around him a group of young, energetic and highly talented musicians and they rise admirably to meet each of the challenges that Waters sets, giving some complex and well known music a fresh perspective.
It's a surprise because once again a perception of Roger Waters is shattered. On In The Flesh he appears to be perfectly happy to be a band member. Although your eyes never leave him and completely without ego and almost unwittingly he is undoubtedly the star of the show.
In The Flesh is a masterpiece from a musican whose work has stood the test of time and no doubt he will be as listened to, discussed and analysed in the future as he has been for the past 40 years.
As the world clamours for a Pink Floyd reunion, Roger Waters demonstates that he is as sharp and incisive a performer as he has ever been.
His position over the years has been a difficult one, largely blamed for the break up of Pink Floyd, he has gone about his business of making challenging music. In The Flesh is an object lesson in just how powerful, intelligent rock n roll can be, it stirs the soul and fires the imagination. Shine On Syd.
Michael Mee, July 2006
Countrified college retro pop with shades of Gram Parsons, The Jayhawks and Big Star, the Baltimore quartet aren't going to set the world on fire but they do make for pleasant sunny day listening with their breezy melodies, nasally vocals and songs about stealing your brother's girlfriend (Forgive Me Robert), screw ups (Andy), changing your ways (To All Those Girls) and the general ebb and flow of boy/girl relationships. All God's Children makes for a punchy piece of guitarslinging pop, (Darling) You Won't Have To is bouncy jug band folksiness and Southern Belle takes the slower path with the organ throwing up a hint of The Band, and while you wouldn't drive out of your way to hear them if you stumble across a copy while browsing they're worth a listen.
Mike Davies, July 2006
Here we have a straightforward reissue of the complete For Pence And Spicy Ale LP from 1975, which formed the return to the folk scene (and recording) of the Watersons. The personnel of the group had changed slightly in the interim, with Martin Carthy having been recruited to replace John Harrison, and that lineup was at a peak when it recorded this album. Indeed, none could equal their sound - and it's still as uniquely thrilling an experience as it was 30 years ago.
The material therein contained some of the Watersons' most enduring discoveries, of which the likes of Country Life, Chickens In The Garden, The Good Old Way and Adieu Adieu are still very much doing the rounds today. Hunt songs, seasonal songs (wassail, May) and gospel legends - all was grist to the Watersons' mill - and here these were topped up with Mike's own puckish composition Three Day Millionaire.
This re-release has been completely remastered from the original tapes, and is clearly superior (especially in terms of overall bloom) to the earlier Topic CD reissue of 1993. What the new edition lacks, though, is the bonus tracks which the 1993 disc included: three tracks from Mike's solo album and four from Lal and Norma's True Hearted Girl LP. However, this omission is reasonable enough in the circumstances, since both those LPs have been reissued on CD (with bonus material) in recent years. A handsome re-release, of that there's no doubt, and yes, one of the Watersons' finest recordings, which no home should be without.
David Kidman June 2008
What have we here then?... two seasonal releases that appear right on the cusp of spring and summer? Not really. For Frost And Fire is more in the way of a celebratory calendar of ritual and magical songs, and one that might well readily be viewed as an appendage to last winter's marvellous Waterson: Carthy offering Holy Heathens And The Old Green Man, were it not for the fact that the year's big news (and next big gig) is to be the re-formed Watersons playing the Royal Albert Hall on 12th May in a Mighty River Of Song concert. Apart from the fact that it could never strictly be, as claimed, "the Watersons re-formed" (Lal having departed this mortal coil, for one thing)... But, such small matters aside, the RAH event still promises to be something truly special. So, to tie in with the concert, those good folks at Topic have seized the opportunity to issue freshly remastered editions of two of the original LPs made by the Watersons, the first of which (Frost And Fire) was made by the original group in 1965, was subsequently awarded the accolade of Best Folk Album of that year by Melody Maker, and has since proved one of the most influential recorded artefacts of the 60s folk revival. It has deserved better than a hastily cobbled-together straight-to-CD-transfer of the ilk of the 1990 Topic re-release; this had compiled the origjnal Frost And Fire LP's 14 tracks along with seven taken from the later "panorama of sacred song" LP Sound, Sound Your Instruments Of Joy, which a subsequent incarnation of The Watersons group (in which John Harrison had been replaced by Martin Carthy) had recorded in 1977, close on a dozen years later. All but one of the remaining seven tracks of Sound, Sound… had since languished in vinyl obscurity (only Heavenly Aeroplane managing to land on CD, tucked away on the lavish Mighty River Of Song box-set). Are you confused yet? - well, read on...
With these brand new editions, Frost And Fire replaces the comparatively dull artwork of the original LP with a fresh new design, complete with archive photos and attractive layout housing the complete original sleeve notes, all in a brand new slipcase, whereas Sound Sound... is housed in a most attractive digipack with original sleeve notes and full texts therein. So far so fine. And what about the music within, then? Well, the remastering has certainly been carried out to the highest standards, and there's a much greater presence to the ensemble work as well as an altogether sharper definition between voices and lines on many of the songs (especially on Sound, Sound...) with a welcome reduction of distortion at the top end of the register; but to be fair much of this is only noticeable when directly comparing the two CD transfers side by side, and many prospective purchasers will, I suspect, have found the sound of the 1990 CD transfer perfectly acceptable. On both discs, however, the performances, as I've already hinted, are glorious, utterly classic, and essentials for any serious collection of music from the folk revival. Sound, Sound... is a particularly inspiring collection, revealing the strong influence of the power of Sacred Harp singing on the Waterson Family. If all you want are CD versions to replace your original vinyl LPs, pure and simple, then get out there straightaway and buy these new reissues - but be aware, the total playing time of each disc is predictably meagre: barely a minute over half-an-hour for Frost And Fire and 37 minutes for Sound, Sound... And there's no freshly-exhumed bonus material therein (whereas the 1990 transfer of Frost And Fire stretches out to a better-value 52 minutes with the additional Sound, Sound... items, although you're then left yearning for the remaining, more elusive tracks from that LP).
So what does this all mean then? The cynical may view these latest reissues as a canny and opportunist, if state-of-the-art, repackaging exercise for the new generation currently discovering this music and their folk heritage for the first time, whose demands are just as artistic and cultural as they are musical. For, will those who already own three-quarters of the total contents of these two discs on CD be tempted to shell out yet again? I'm not altogether sure, even considering the very high quality of these new reissues.
www.watersoncarthy.co.uk
www.topicrecords.co.uk
David Kidman April 2007
This one is a magnificently rousing, heady parade of seasonal songs of various kinds, basically an aural counterpart to the family's current celebratory Frost And Fire tour and a sequel to both the (original) Watersons' album of the same name and their Sound, Sound, Your Instruments Of Joy of many moons ago (and succeeding where last year's Yorkshire Christmas shortchanged us on the purely musical element). And Fire is the operative word here, for these wonderful ritual songs are charged with elemental passion, the participants' response to which has evidently stirred up something deep within their souls so that the sheer driven fervency of their active and wholly intuitive involvement is apparent right from the opening bars - and it never lets up for a moment.
Yet without wishing to play down the W:C clan members' own performances, another vital ingredient in the immense impact of this collection is definitely the presence of The Devil's Interval (Jim, Lauren and Emily - see their Blood And Honey CD reviewed a couple of months ago on NetRhythms). Their contributions to such selections as the round The Falling Tear, and the several pieces using comparatively "massed forces" including brass players, add significant depth and weight - and variety of vocal timbre - to an already fulsome and invigorating blend. But with all singers and musicians on a high, operating at full strength singing their proverbial hearts out and playing as if their lives and souls depended on it, this is one quasi-seasonal disc that will never outlast its welcome.
It's an eclectic collection too, kicking off like a rocket with the decidedly strange Residue, which is hotly pursued by some highly unusual carols, wassailing songs and social and religious commentaries drawn from many and various traditions (Yorkshire to Baptist to travellers), all neatly offset with a handful of more obviously doomy, pensive offerings that provide album highlights (like Eliza's chilling version of Mike Waterson's Jack Frost, Tim's sparse, bleakly admonitory rendition of On Christmas Day It Happened So and Eliza's fine setting of the salutary Time To Remember The Poor).
Throughout, we're in the presence of something very powerful and primeval: the potent combination (and contradiction) of elements - beauty and savagery, doom and optimism - that's at the heart of any celebratory tradition and ritual itself. The disc's sequence is well planned and managed too, presenting us with a grand and satisfyingly uplifting experience.
David Kidman November 2006
The Watersons et al. - A Yorkshire Christmas (Witchwood Media)
David Kidman
Waterson: Carthy - Fishes And Fine Yellow Sand (Topic)
David Kidman
This wondrous four-disc set pays tribute to the still-continuing (hurrah!) career of that famous singing family of folk who were once dubbed the "folk Beatles" (ho ho!), the importance of whose distinctive ensemble performing style has divided folk music enthusiasts, arguably more than almost any other folk group of recent times. There are those who've been inspired to a great extent (and not exclusively in their formative years) by the Watersons' joyous, soulful and powerful singing and their exciting approach to repertoire, while others have castigated them for (among other things) over-harmonising and/or destroying the melodies of the songs they perform. To whichever of these views you may incline, you can neither deny the pervasive influence of this "extended family" of performers nor arrive at anything but a genuinely favourable assessment of each member's individual talent as a singer (whether or not you actually like what they do). This set chronicles over its four well-filled discs not only the career of the Watersons as a defined singing group but the recording activities of the various individuals (not only actual Watersons but also "satellite" or non-family members like Peter Ogley, John Harrison, Jill Pidd, Martin Carthy - the latter of course is now the venerable patriarch!) over the forty-year span from the 60s to the present decade with the new generation. The set also gives a healthy degree of perspective to the roughly concurrent story of what has become known as the English Folksong Revival.
The earliest recordings here are two rather rough takes on shanties recorded by the "Folksons" in 1964, whereas the latest is a track from Oliver Knight's Mysterious Day album; in between is a veritable treasure trove of some 80-plus tracks encompassing both group, solo and duo performances from various Waterson incarnations. Twelve of these are taken from rare and/or deleted recordings, and a further 40 are previously unreleased in any format; the remainder are well chosen to provide a sensible overview (oh alright, I could quibble with the omission of some of the quintessential Watersong repertoire staples like Country Life, and I suppose I expected Some Old Salty to have cropped up herein, and yes, we didn't really expect the necessary co-operation from he-who-shall-remain-nameless for the inclusion of a track from the landmark, if maddeningly inconsistent Bright Phoebus album did we?!). And one of the major virtues of the set is the compiler's knowing avoidance of the over-obvious choices out of the legacy of group performances in favour of more obscure smaller-scale or offshoot recordings. It's salutary, too, to compare different renditions of songs - for instance, the group version of Whitby Lad (from 1966) as against a 1978 reading with Martin C taking the lead, and similarly The White Cockade in group performances from 1966 and 1990 respectively. And I appreciate the opportunity to relish hitherto unreleased variations of songs recorded by the group, like the Pace Egging Song (one of three cuts recorded in 1974 in Loughton folk club, that open disc two).
Highlights of the set for me, though, are such real discoveries as Norma's amazing, deeply felt rendition of Coal Not Dole (recorded at an American festival in 1991), Mike's own composition Jack Frost (a demo recording from 1996) and three starkly atmospheric demos recorded by Lal in 1970/71 (one for the Bright Phoebus album, the others privately at home in Hull) which include the incredibly dark and intense Song For Thirza. Yes, this set also scores by celebrating Watersons as songwriters, with a number of good examples of both Lal's and Mike's craft. Norma's solo rendition of Poor Boney (taken from the 2001 Sharper Than The Thorn show) and the 1997 Waterson:Carthy version of Flowers Of Knaresborough Forest are both certainly worthy of an outing here - but then, so are all of the unreleased items…! I've already hinted that the genuine rarity quotient is high, but even I was surprised to find some curios that'd passed me by over the years, such as Mike's McIlroy The Emerald Cowboy (recorded for a 1994 No Master's compilation). And it's good to see the incorporation into the CD catalogue (at long last) of The Morning Looks Charming and Heavenly Aeroplane (originally from A Yorkshire Garland and Sound, Sound Your Instruments Of Joy respectively, but which thus far had eluded the trawl onto CD format of virtually all of the remainder of the Watersons' back catalogue).
Another big bonus is the inclusion of a DVD of the legendary and highly evocative 1965 BBC documentary Travelling For A Living, which incidentally also includes footage of Anne Briggs; this documentary so well captures the essence of the group's performances and attitude, their endemic energy and vivacity. As indeed the whole set celebrates the extended Watersons outfit as an undisputed major creative force in the English folk revival. The mammoth task (nay, mammoth tusk!) of archival research and compilation for this lavish set could not have been entrusted to a better man than the wholly admirable David Suff, who has an excellent track record in masterminding innumerable fine anthologies and themed charity collections (mainly for his own Fledg'ling label). Extreme good taste, allied to an ear for unearthing the significant pearls of obscurity and an eye for detail in that perennial quest for accuracy - all these hallmarks are present in the planning and sequencing of the discs themselves as well as in the attractive and informative "extra items" - the Frame-style discography and the reminiscence-packed 52-page booklet (though maybe the landscape-format of the latter makes it a mite floppy for a comfortable read!). An essential venture (not before time!), and an equally essential acquisition.
David Kidman
On the evidence of album number two, the boys sure bring an abundance of youthful energy to both traditional material and original compositions, a raging, almost-punk full-ahead charge that's wedded to some tremendous (and authentically driven) individual playing and a tightly-coordinated band sound that conjures up the image of all four huddled round a single radio mic just doin' what they do – and how! So far, WTBB have invited comparisons with Old Crow Medicine Show, but I feel they've an edge in that they're more raw, with an unashamedly rockin'-out stance, really getting off on the music yet still treating their sources with respect. They sure know how to have a good time, and the gutbucket-hoedown of tracks like Greasy Coat is as infectious as they come; while they romp through the chestnut Sitting On Top Of The World like they really do have no cares. They do a nice line in mid-paced rollin' too, with some great high'n'lonesome harmonies on tracks like I'm Blue And Lonesome. OK, so there's a slight hint of pastiche on one or two of the original compositions, which have a bit of a "still feelin' their way" mood to them, but they'll still stand up to any competition.
The production is great, and really captures the down-home/garage essence of the foursome's rough'n'ready, take-it-or-leave-it music-making; and the inclusion of just one (even more energetic) live cut Tennessee near the end of the disc is not the misjudgement it might've been. So go reel in that there ol' catfish and have yourself a great feast with some real invigorating music. On tour in the UK later in July.
David Kidman July 2009
Although Sara's eight years with Nickel Creek rightly highlighted her prowess as fiddler, and to some extent as vocalist too, this unassumingly eponymous new record, while not neglecting those facets of her musical personality, also brings her writing skills to the fore – she's written six of the album's 14 tracks (five songs and one instrumental) and either co-written or co-arranged a further two. At the outset I'll venture the opinion that she's still finding her songwriting feet to a certain extent (the opening All This Time is a touch bland and repetitive perhaps), but what we hear on this disc is most encouraging. Sara's on really excellent vocal form throughout the album: deeply intense in her expression and understanding, and often recalling Julie Miller more than Alison Krauss (there's a compliment!). She can be bewitchingly fragile, vulnerable and yearning when need be (as on her own compositions My Friend and Where Will You Be?, and Tom Waits' Pony), or downright seductive - as on her lazy-moded but forthright cover of John Hartford's Long Hot Summer Days, which enjoys a solid workhouse backing that brings in Gillian Welch, David Rawlings, Byron House and Tim O'Brien, with Billy Cardine on dobro and Rayna Gellert on fiddle.
Others involved at various points on the disc include fellow Nickel Creekers Sean and Chris, also Greg Leisz, Chris Eldridge, Jon Brion, Ronnie McCoury, Mark Schatz, Benmont Tench, Michael Witcher and even John Paul Jones himself. Although Sara doesn't skimp on guest musicians, and the production uses them to good advantage with a smooth and well-balanced sound, there's no sense of overkill (with totally authentic western-swing small-group backing for Jimmie Rodgers' Any Old Time and a tasty electric soul-strut for Too Much). Standout cuts include the gospel number Give Me Jesus and a tender and insightful cover of Norman Blake's Lord Won't You Help Me, and I must just mention the plaintive Bygones, which has Sara backed by twin fiddles and gentle organ and some delicious and eerie harmonies from Aoife O'Donovan and Claire Lynch.
This is a very confident first-dip into the murky waters of the go-it-alone solo-album, on which Sara more than proves her talent and maturity.
David Kidman September 2009
That youthful, one might say precocious guitar talent Sean (of Nickel Creek) springs back into the limelight with a new CD recorded over two years during breaks between touring with the group. It's his third solo album; the artistic and stylistic jump from albums one to two was really startling, so inevitably that to number three is not so much so, but you'll find that Sean still has the capacity to surprise and challenge. Blinders On is at once more reliant on simple textures and more reliant on "produced" textures; those who love the contemporary-bluegrass mode of Nickel Creek will find No Lighted Windows the track to die for, and sister/band-mate Sara brings her fiddle alongside that of Gabe Witcher for Starve Them To Death and I'm Sorry, whereas those of a more open turn of ear will appreciate the distinctly Beatlesque retro feel of tracks like Summer's Coming, or the Radiohead-style "acoustic-industrial stew" of Happy New Year, which makes a virtue of a veritable barrage of fuzzy distortion and drum machine. On many of the tracks Sean seems to delight in being wilful, because nothing seems to stay the same for long and several cuts finish on a different sonic planet from where they started and others (like I'm Sorry) returning full circle after an exhausting journey.
Although Sean plays most of the instruments himself, he benefits from guest contributions from, apart from those mentioned elsewhere, Jon Brion, Byron House, Mark Schatz, Glenn Kotche and Benmont Tench. There's some discreetly lush autumnal string textures, some eerie experimental layerings and sounds (like what seems like a prepared-piano on Coffee), and a fair amount of signature flatpicking too (and a glorious instrumental hidden track, a traditional old-timey breakdown featuring some fabulous bluegrass cello work from, I'd guess, Rashad Eggleston, who guests on an earlier track too). Sean's songwriting tends to focus on themes of regret and loss, and his gift for poetic expression can be almost painfully economic, as in the pithy and bittersweet miniature Hello… Goodbye. And as for Sean's singing, there are times when I feel his vocal style comes close to emulating Brian Wilson, at others a more understated version of Rufus Wainwright (it can be quite heart-on-sleeve, albeit in a more restrained manner).
All in all, Blinders On is an album that amply repays close investigation and, in spite of its frequent air of restlessness, possesses an artistic coherence and thus satisfies greatly on repeated plays. Oh, and I'd like to hear the whole of Sean's string quartet someday (a tantalising 20-second sample forms track 11 here, a mere interlude on this disc).
David Kidman, July 2006
One third of that highly-rated young modern bluegrass outfit Nickel Creek, and already barely in his mid-twenties, here's Sean making his second solo album. Two years ago, Sean's first solo effort, Let It Fall, was basically (except for one lone vocal cut) little more than a sequence of quasi-improvisatory acoustic bluegrass-infused mood-pictures, characterful and yet virtuosic, but in the end bordering on the sterile, too much reliant on a gasping perfection of technique to provide lasting interest. 26 Miles, however, is a different thing entirely. Instrumental skill and expertise is still an integral part of the picture, but the settings are much more adventurous, and most important, (rather unexpectedly) the emphasis this time is firmly on Sean's developing songwriting. This inhabits an often intriguing musical landscape where rhythmic ebb and flow are captivating and yet unpredictable, where "diary entries" seem to provide the inspiration and soft, gentle and persuasive combinations of instruments and voices are the order of the day rather than tightly structured tradition-infused narratives. There's a definite ambience of "quality pop" about much of the album. But having said that, there's also at times a prominent mid-to-late-60s-retro feel to the musical effects Sean creates - the White Album's an obvious reference point, and the luscious harmonies of the cryptic Through The Spring lend it the air of a lost Brian Wilson creation - even though Sean's not afraid to utilise technology (sampling and sequencing) selectively to enhance a mood, as on the title track. The CD's centrepiece, Chutes And Ladders, bucks the trend by being one of three "scary-good" flatpickin' instrumentals on the album (you know, those complex pieces that Sean can probably play in his sleep). There's a degree of funkiness in there too though, which is as refreshing in this context as the obvious fun that Sean and his friends had in recording it. Sean's cohorts include an odd assortment of musicians from the cream of San Diego's jazz community (among them Kevin Hennessey on bass, Duncan Moore on drums and Trip Sprague on sax), while in addition to Jon Brion on keyboards there's sister Sara on fiddle who joins Glen Phillips on harmony vocals on several tracks, also a fine string quartet arrangement on the enigmatic closer Carousel. It's a constantly interesting palette, and I find myself increasingly drawn to the songs themselves as a result.
David Kidman
Sometimes we spend way too much of our lives searching for hidden 'twists and turns' in music, whether it's the message, subtext or hidden meaning there just has to be something lying, as yet undiscovered, just below the surface. In the case of Dale Watson's The Truckin' Sessions, it could be that the 'truth' is a whole lot simpler.
It could be that Dale Watson plays the kind of country music that is just hugely enjoyable. It could be that he loves the roots and traditions that have sustained country music over the decades and that he's turned his back on the various mutations visited on the genre. He may claim to play 'Ameripolitan' but to you and me, The Truckin' Sessions is just good old-fashioned, warm-hearted blue-collar country.
The title is the dead give-away, The Truckin' Sessions is the musical equivalent of a road movie. It's an album that could only have sounded more authentic if it had been recorded over a CB radio, each track is its own call sign. If you need proof, head straight for 10-4.
In a cynical world, it's difficult for such a traditional and 'stylised' artist to emerge completely unscathed, staying close to tradition is seen as somehow not being adventurous enough but The Truckin' Sessions has an energy and integrity that few albums can match. Yankee Doodle Jean come have come hotfoot from the Grand Ol' Opry and it wouldn't have travelled alone. Watson's unshakable belief in the kind of country music that comes replete with oil stains makes The Truckin' Sessions a take it, or leave it kind of an album. He has narrowed the listener's options to love country, love The Truckin' Sessions, if not there's little point in hanging around.
Ultimately, it is to Dale Watson's credit that he has made what is a series of variations on a theme so interesting. Tracks like Hey Driver and Hero are not miles apart musically but Hero in particular makes the honest appeal of a simple tale, well told irresistible. With The Truckin' Sessions, Dale Watson shows little inclination to compromise, The Truckin' Sessions shows that he has no need to.
www.dalewatson.com
www.myspace.com/dalewatson
Michael Mee April 2009
Doc Watson - Memories (Gott Discs)
This is a straight reissue of Doc's landmark 1975 album which was a key statement in what the album's original sleevenote-writer Chet Flippo termed the "recent… encouraging… acknowledgement of Southern music". In spite of the solo header credit, Memories presents Doc mostly not in a truly solo capacity, performing a wide-ranging selection of material from his celebrated heritage of traditional and old-time music (which shamelessly embraces ragtime, blues and the work of Jimmie Rodgers alongside the more obviously mountain music category). The album was recorded just a year after Doc's important contribution to the Nitty Gritty Dirt Band's Carter tribute Will The Circle Be Unbroken, and is the most persuasive demonstration of his artistry and versatility you'd think possible. Doc's playing and singing on Memories is totally excellent, and both in terms both of performance and unerring choice of material has proved inspirational to every musician who's followed in his footsteps. Doc's supporting cast on Memories centres round his late son Merle, with Michael Coleman, Sam Bush, Chuck Cochran, Jim Isbel and Courtney Johnson making up the rest of the ensemble. Even some occasional relative concessions to "modern" instrumentation (in the guise of a gentle bass-and-drums rhythm section or electric piano or organ) don't intrude on the effervescent musicality of the performances. As well as instrumentally (from the easy fluidity of the fingerstyle flat-picking guitar for which he's become most famous and influential through to an equally exquisite frailing banjo technique), Doc also here proves himself master of vocal exposition, most notably perhaps on an acapella rendition of Wake Up Little Maggie. The man's an institution – truly one of considerable talent and stature, yet modest to the last. The entire record is characterised by that wonderful combination of virtuosity and fun that marks out the very best of Southern music. Don't miss out on this excellent reissue, which (like all Gott Discs releases) comes complete with both original and new sleeve notes and a handsome slipcase presentation.
David Kidman
David Kidman
I never cease to be amazed at the amount of good music that has sat in obscure vaults since the 50s and 60s and is only now beginning to surface and get released on CD. Here's another example - 14 previously-unreleased tracks of prime Doc Watson recorded live during two two-week stints from December 1962 through to March 1963 at Gerdes Folk City in Greenwich Village, New York. These tracks are of considerable historical importance, not least in that they were Doc's first solo acoustic engagements, but in that they capture Doc's already considerably accomplished musical personality and his ability to hold an audience in the palm of his hand with his vocal and instrumental presence. Although these are solo performances, he inveigles other musicians - John Herald, Bob Yellin and all three Greenbriar Boys respectively - up on stage for three of the cuts. At that time, Doc's superlative performances of authentic folk and oldtime country material were (together with the pioneering work of the New Lost City Ramblers) proving key to the growing realisation of the richness of the country's musical heritage, and this release is thus immensely valuable, and not least for its purely musical virtues. Listening to these performances today also enables us to humbly reflect on Doc's pervasive influence on subsequent generations of guitar flatpickers. Doc's stunning, benchmark-setting renditions of Blue Smoke and Cannonball Rag have to be heard to be believed - even in these days of so-what, almost off-the-shelf virtuosity. Then, that Cannonball Rag is followed up with a definitive, finely controlled unaccompanied rendition of The Lone Pilgrim. The appreciative audience clearly relished Doc's trailblazing performances too, and hey, wouldn't it be good if we were to learn that the rest of the shows were also taped?!
David Kidman
David Kidman
Helen has always been a unique performer, and her early career took her from singing in a soul duo and the blues band Loose Lips on into session work in the early 80s. This, coupled with a growing interest in songwriting, led to a recording contract with EMI, who released two albums and a clutch of singles by Helen towards the end of the decade and then (of course) almost immediately deleted them. Here's a welcome reissue, then, for the first of those albums. You might say that Blue Slipper has the sound of a very typical late-80s pop album, but with more than a touch of real class in its superior production values. Recorded in Los Angeles and produced by Glyn Johns, the album featured the talents of a stellar crew of backing musicians including Jerry Donahue, Bernie Leadon, Snake Davis, "Michael Landau", also Paul Barrère, Bill Payne and Richie Hayward of Little Feat. All its songs were Helen's own compositions (all but one co-written with Martin McGroarty); though tailored exquisitely both to her voice and to the style of the times, they nevertheless possessed a mature and sassy outlook matched to a poetic perception of situation. There are some really good songs here, in fact. Tho' it's true that the synth-programming-and-rock-guitar-gestured arrangements dominate and there are moments that veer in the direction of mildly misplaced Ultravox-style electropop (and the prominent backbeat of Rock Myself To Sleep even nods to both Zeppelin and Feat!), it's all handled with a restraint quite rarely found in the over-glossy production ventures of the era. Helen's superb vocal performance characterises the set - entirely as it should be - with her feisty and distinctively seductive singing, her enthusiasm, drive and artistic commitment. Helen's singing is pretty much peerless, and the playing and arrangements first class, so the only possible reasons for the album's lack of commercial success can be firstly that it was simply too good for its contemporaries and secondly that it was not your typical singer-songwriter product by any means, falling right between the stools of soul, blues, jazz and pop. This excellent reissue is state-of-the-Fledg'ling-art, with original artwork, photos etc (all it lacks is a background liner note!). It contains the entire original 1987 album, together with bonus tracks in the form of two sides taken from contemporaneous singles (one a 12") and two previously unreleased demos from 1986 (pre-dating the album sessions).
David Kidman 2007
Helen Watson - Lifesize (Fledg'ling)
Lifesizeis the third in the recent series of solo releases from the ex-Daphne's Flighter. Helen's previous two Fledg'ling albums each formed a highlight of that particular listening year for me, and have proved extremely hard acts to follow, so I'm glad not to have felt in the slightest bit let down by this excellent new offering. Lifesize is an accurate title for this new set of Helen's own compositions, in that the viewing-lens is zoomed just a tad further out (in terms of musical perspective) after the ultra-close (though not intimidatingly so) intimacy of Somersault and Doffing.
The aural soundscape is arguably warmer too, with instrumentation that's occasionally slightly fuller than hitherto (though it's still enviably sparse and telling, and the recording is again of exemplary clarity), around which Helen wraps her succulent, seductive vocal tones (still the sexiest I know!), with expression that savours every tiniest nuance of her gnomic, understated observational lyrics. These largely, though not exclusively, concern love lost and found, though this love is acutely, truthfully observed, not in any way sentimentalised or clichéd. Intricate subtlety is the order of the day, and Helen again coaxes some beautifully-realised ancillary performances from Howard Lees (guitar), with various other instruments courtesy of her "longtime cohort" Julie Matthews (who also mixed the album and co-produced much of it, incidentally, with an incredibly sure touch), also Heather Greenbank, and Danny and Chris While. Even the use of drum programming (Steve Brookfield) on a handful of tracks turns out to be selective and pretty cool, while the rhythms produced actually simmer 'n' cook (not the apparent contradiction it sounds!). Extra vocals from Chris While and Helen herself sometimes impart an intriguing and slightly unsettling Rochey touch to the harmony. The delectable, well-nigh-uncategorisable, quirky and highly individual soulfully-folky groove that's Helen's trademark is present throughout this sublime new set, with characteristic incursions into cheeky a-capella (How Come Your New Lover… - a typically potent mix of gospel, doo-wop and folk) and funky soul (Future Bone, which wouldn't have sounded out of place on the latest While/Matthews album).
Elsewhere, the delicate title track is a graceful almost-waltz that begets a curiously animated, less smoothly paced closing section, Too Bad I'm A Millionaire interpolates a strangely jubilant cross-syncopated jig, and the delicious Quicksetts is cautiously country, while Arterials may well depict the ultimate cycle-ride, whereon the road does indeed go on forever! Yes, this is another eminently classy album of considerable stature from Helen. Magnificent may just be the title of track three, but surely it applies to the whole album.
www.bluemoonmusic.co.uk
www.thebeesknees.com
David Kidman
Jason Walker & The Last Drinks - Ashes & Wine (Laughing Outlaw)
In which Jason Walker, one time member of Aussie troubadours Golden Rough, becomes - just for one night only, Matthew - Mick Jagger's younger brother on the (appropriately titled) Dissatisfaction. Ashes & Wine is the album where Walker exercises his love of Ryan Adams and Gram Parsons, and then some. This album has muscle; songs like You're On Your Own and Listening Out For Our Song grab you by the throat and demand to be heard while Helpless Guy cranks up the lacrymose content with its big men do cry harmonies and pedal guitar steen that gives it classic country tale status. Ashes & Wine - mixed, produced and engineered by the ubiquitous Michael Carpenter - ups the ante from Walker's previous album, Stranger To Someone. For a start Walker has written, or co-written with Carpenter, all the songs, where previously he had penned only four. The difference is threefold: Walker sounds more confident, the band behind him is tight and powerful, and the overall sound has more punch and drama. Occasionally, you get the feeling Walker is doing just a little too much to make his point, but in the main it works: Ashes & Wine has a gritty rawness that should elevate Walker onto the same level as the people he so obviously admires.
John Stacey
Little Toby Walker - Live At The Bottleneck (Powerhouse Records)
It took two attempts to get this CD to me for review, thanks to the Royal Mail for 'losing' the first. When it did finally arrive and I got to listen to it I can assure you that it was worth the wait. Walker is from Long Island, USA and this live album shows all his American heritage.
Starting with the traditional I Know You Rider he takes us from early folk blues and ragtime through to contemporary blues of the highest order. The opener is a taster for things to come with its stunning guitar playing. He also turns in a strong vocal and is very reminiscent of Catfish Keith. He's very softly spoken for such a powerful singer but it is as a guitarist that he truly excels. Main Street Rag is, quite simply, a rag but the spectacular guitar lifts this above any other rag that I've heard.
Matchbox Blues is a Blind Lemon Jefferson song and Walker shows that he knows his blues history when he tells the audience that Jefferson was a blind wrestler. He makes this song his own though and I would have liked to have heard this as a duet with Walker on guitar and Jefferson on vocals - what a sound that would have been. Big Bill Broonzy's Good Liquor picks up the pace again with a fast delta style slide guitar and Baby Who You Waiting For slows it back down again and has the familiar theme of a love spurned. Both are played with such passion.
Walker shows his humorous side on Things I Used To Do All Night, a gentle, funny blues about the perils of growing old and it's full of old jokes. Devil Beatin' On His Wife is country blues with snappy guitar and is followed by the soulful True Religion. Schoolboy Blues, every schoolboys dream? Nudge, nudge, say no more! Weak Willed is a tale of what will happen to you if you're too gullible, well maybe not the marriage part.
Son Of A Muleskinner is, like the rest of the album, expertly played and the thought provoking lyric is well sung. The second and final rag, Hacksaw Rag/Cincinnati Flow Rag (the second part is the Reverend Gary Davis' tune) is an instrumental full of top guitar playing. Following this is more breakneck guitar on the traditional Glory Glory and Corrina. The final track, Who's Gonna Be Your Sweet Man Tonight, is a fingerpicking extravaganza and is a perfect way to finish. The audience were very appreciative and although we don't get to hear too much of the banter you can tell that he has a way with a crowd.
This is Little Toby Walker's fourth album and I'm off to find the other three.
www.bottleneckblues.co.uk
www.littletobywalker.com
David Blue
Rachel's immaculate and truly lovely first CD, Bràighe Loch Iall, captivated me intensely during the first few months of this year, though it had already been out for close on 18 months by the time I'd got hold of a copy! I'm pleased to be quicker off the mark with her followup, which was only released a few weeks ago. For a brief summary of Rachel's musical background and CV, it's easiest to refer you to my review of Bràighe Loch Iall; all I need to say here is that she's an extraordinarily fine singer who, though originally from Salisbury, has forged a healthy career for herself in interpreting Gaelic song. So this new album from Rachel is another fabulous collection of songs sung in Gaelic, but although again many of these are traditional in origin some have been composed by bards like Mary MacLeod, while there's even a contemporary number to close with (see below). The majority of the arrangements are by Rachel herself in collaboration with her producer Allan Henderson (who also contributes plenty of his signature piano playing), except for just two songs, credit for the setting of which is jointly down to Rachel and Runrig's Malcolm Jones (who also plays guitars and other instruments on the tracks). The latter constitute a brace of high points on an already highly consistent disc: the lovely Inbhir Àsdal Nam Buadh extols the beauty of Inverasdale (and I too can vouch for that!), while Rachel owns up to having learned the cautionary Ho Rò, I Am Unable To Sleep from her sister Abi! Like Bràighe Loch Iall, Fon Reul-Sholus (Under The Star-light - the significance of which title escapes me for the moment...) presents an extremely varied sequence of moods and textures; it's not surprising, then, that once again Rachel's able to convey the essence (and detail) of the song texts without the listener feeling the alienness of the language to be a barrier. Her singing is so very attractive in tone, with wonderfully clear diction, and I marvel afresh each time I experience the delightfully relaxed ebb and flow of her interpretations. Each and every song brings something different and refreshing in its setting too, from the eerie percussive piano brushings that accompany the playful, fairylike waulking song (Who Will Flirt With Me?) to the crisp drumkit rhythm used for the altogether rockier Twenty Years (a composition from the pens of Calum and Rory MacDonald of Runrig) which ends the CD. I loved the opener, the Blair Douglas song Chasing The Wind, with its glorious yet simple and effective blend of massed harmony vocals, piano, fiddle and guitar, but my very favourite track is Rachel's seriously beautiful, relatively unadorned treatment of the tender love song Mo Ghaol Òigear A Chùil Duinn from St Kilda (with only Archie McAllister's keening fiddles for company). The Puirt A Beul (mouth music) selection is predictedly invigorating, with some inventive percussion from James MacIntosh offsetting the accordion, guitar, fiddles and piano, while Rachel's confident singing of the lament Mo Chràdhghal Bochd (the disc's only purely unaccompanied track, sadly) manages to convey both steadfastness and vulnerability. Rachel's stature as an outstanding new talent surely cannot now be questioned. And in performances such as these, Rachel (along with other significantly impressive young singers like Julie Fowlis), is showing us that Gaelic song need not be impenetrable at all.
David Kidman
This is an extraordinarily fine CD by a very fine young singer: even more extraordinary, you might think, since it's sung exclusively in Gaelic and yet the singer was born in Salisbury! Rachel moved to Kinlochewe (Wester Ross) at the age of eight, and was introduced to Gaelic song at primary school, where with encouragement she developed her latent talent for making the songs her own. After studying at the RSAMD under renowned Gaelic singer Kenna Campbell, Rachel formed the band Dòchas (though she left them not long thereafter). She then guested and recorded with the band Skippinish, but Bràighe Loch Iall is her first solo recording. It's been out a year or more, and a followup is on the way, but this is such a good record that it deserves your attention (and purchase!) before moving onto the next one! It presents a succession of Gaelic songs, all but one being of traditional origin, and all arranged by Rachel herself in conjunction with Runrig's Malcolm Jones (who also produced the album). The potential impenetrability of the material for non-Gaelic-speakers is absolutely not a problem, due to Rachel's immensely attractive singing; her voice is easy on the ear, mature and relaxed in delivery, with an enviable clarity of tone, yet full of delightful nuances of expression that reveal themselves on repeated listening. The musical arrangements possess an ideal degree of restraint and elegance that perfectly matches her singing, and there's variety aplenty between individual tracks: some (the laments, ie. tracks 2, 6 and 10) are performed unaccompanied - and so very movingly too, with an unerring sense of proportional pace and gentle momentum. Guest musicians are exceptionally well utilised: some songs (like O, Iain Ghlinne Cuaich and the title track) centre around the sublime piano playing of Allan Henderson, others make good use of percussion to mirror the activities depicted in the song (rowing, waulking). Some songs engage Iain MacFarlane (fiddle) and Andrew Stevenson (small pipes, whistle or flute) in varying combinations with the other musicians, with creative, enchanting and unusual additional touches such as delicate electric and bass guitar and keyboard traceries (courtesy of Malcolm himself) on Smeórach Clann Dòmhnaill, accordion (Malcolm again) on the waulking song Thug Mi 'n Oidhche Ge B' Fhad I, just mouth-organ (Donald Black) and guitar accompanying Rachel on the beautiful lullaby Cadal Ciarach Mo Luran, and a full (yet precise) electric "band" sound on the rousing finisher Rathad Iéricho (an Alasdair Codona song, and the album's only non-traditional selection). And then there's the fabulous, sturdy backing vocals from - believe this lineup! - Julie Fowlis, Mary Ann Kennedy, Abigail Walker, James McPhail and James Graham ... wow! This is an absolutely immaculate CD, lovely to a fault - which is why it's taken me so long to get this review finished; I can't stop playing it and I can't wait for the followup!
David Kidman August 2006
And you thought OK Computer was difficult! Eleven years after the fabulously impenetrable Tilt, the now 64 year old Mr Engel returns with a new album that makes that seem like Liberty X. At the end of one song, he does a Donald Duck impersonation, quacking 'what's up, doc?" I kid you not.
There's hints of melodies peeping through the cracked fragments of sonic bones that provide the twisted scaffolding for his symbolist, modernist 'songs', but for the most these are swathes of seemingly unstructured noise and notes that would seem more at home providing the soundtrack for some nightmarish Italian horror movie.
I say seemingly because, after you get past the initial shock and start really listening things do tend to meld into recognisable shapes, angular, discordant, jagged, terrifying even, but still invested with a sense of purpose and a fierce sense of discipline. This isn't stuff you play by accident.
Listen to the opening Cossacks Are, a steamrollering number with plangent guitars and clomping drums, which, once you get a handle on the collage lyrics, reveals itself to be an invective about despots and tyrants, a political sensibility that also informs Jesse (September Song), a stark, desolate lunar landscape of a song that, in its fixed gaze on the worm eaten American Dream, addresses the Twin Towers with images steeped in a baroque horror ("sic feet of foetus flung at sparrows in the sky") that Lucio Fulci would admire as a swarm of sonic bees gather around his head. When he traumatically intones 'oh my, I'm the only one left alive", the shivers in your blood are palpable.
It doesn't lighten up much. Hanging on skeletal industrial percussion and vast chasms of space, Jolson And Jones teems with images of equal despair and decay, observing how nice girls were turned into whores before a squall of noise and squawks leap out into your face like one of those heart stopping moments on carnival ghost rides.
And how do you talk about Clara, an operatic 12 minute number about the execution of Mussolini and his mistress Claretta , which opens with 30 seconds of fuzzy silence and proceeds to unfurl through desolate rumbles, shards of electronic storm and a spoken section about the display and mutilation of the bodies before fading back into pulsing silence.
Lyrically, Cue would seem to be about AIDS in the Third World, Hand Me Ups might be the artist's terror of performing, Psoriatic is about, well, who knows. Death perhaps as he croaks out 'here come the blankets'?
Such avant stylings permeate everything. Even the most 'straightforward;' track, the closing acoustic A Lover Loves sees him disrupt the cold crooning by occasionally going 'pssst' and throwing off key notes into the monochrome guitar strum. It's not an easy listen. It's not meant to be. Imagine if Kurt Weill and Freaks director Tod Browning had collaborated on a cabaret for purgatory. It's an album by a man whose senses are overcome by the stench of the world, who can taste the 21st century poison in the air, who senses the apocalypse has already come and the sun really ain't gonna shine anymore. And yet, as he sings 'you and me against the world' on The Escape, still has the soul of a romantic.
www.4ad.com/scottwalker
www.the-drift.net
Mike Davies, May 2006
Another release from this East London five-piece spins a baffling array of influences, ranging from Celtic and Arabic to Cajun and Balkan by way of reggae and ska with a twang of country, yet sadly is unlikely to break them into the big time. It's not the material: Hugh Poulton's pen is prolific as ever and his ear for a tune undimmed by time, the band's origins dating to punk's heyday. It's the attitude. Community centre collective Walking Wounded seems not to have evolved into the bloodied but unbowed state that graces most of music's survivors, but rather emerge newly-minted in ready-formed indifference to conventional careerism. Little is given away as to the band's origins in this rudimentarily-packaged release; there is not much selling going on, the band clearly playing to its solid, established but niche fan base. Yet if an album today serves as a calling card to a gig, 'Waiting on The Outside' does the job with full throttle verve. Poulton and his band do not lack attack and this latest slew of twelve cracking songs are driven home with shouty enthusiasm and real passion, the production simple but clear and complementary and with notable contributions from Jonny Owen on harmonica and accordionist Christine Taylor. It's a strong set pretty much throughout. Indeed, listen to this and chances are you'll want to go out and catch them live. So - job done.
Peter Muir August 2009
David Kidman August 2007
Great idea to make a biopic about the early life of the late and very great Johnny Cash. After all, he lived a thousand lives and changed the face of country music for ever and, by all accounts, the film is stunning.
But it was a brave gamble to record the cast singing some of country music's iconic songs. A million career musicians have failed to emulate Cash, Jerry Lee Lewis and Elvis so what chance actors? In direct comparison to Sun Records golden age, none. When Cash sang 'I shot a man in Reno, just to watch him die', you believe him, when Joaquin Phoenix, as Cash, sings it, you believe he wants you to believe him, he's a great actor not Johnny Cash. But forget about comparisons because Phoenix and Reese Witherspoon (as June Carter) do an excellent job. Witherspoon in particular, has a mournful quality and intriguing depth to her voice. It would be no hardship to listen to her for an evening.
The CD should also be applauded because it does not contain the dreaded phrase 'music inspired by' where a few 'classics' are lumped together in a naked attempt to cash in. This is an old style movie cast recording and a true record of the film and the better for it.
The weight of the album falls on the shoulders of Joaquin Phoenix as the 'man in black' and, as daunting as it must have been to be faced with 'I Walk The line', 'Ring Of Fire' and 'Folsom Prison Blues' he carries the load with some style, treating the music with respect, neatly sidestepping direct imitation which would have been fatal and trusting his own voice.
Michael Mee, January 2006
Here's another debut on CD from a performer who's well-known around the folk club and festival circuit with a proven track record on his home stamping-ground of Ely (Cambridgeshire). Wall To Wall was recorded by expert sound-man Graham Bradshaw, who has succeeded in capturing the essence of Andy's live presence and his undoubted talents as singer and guitarist; very few overdubs have been used. The 15 songs Andy's chosen for the record are ones which he clearly knows well, never tires of singing and has thus brought to a state of considered interpretation. These range across the classier folk-club standards, leavened with a few more obscure items that are worth bringing out now and again; most welcome in the latter category we find You Never Wanted Me (Jackson C. Frank), Smokey's Bar (Jeff Deitchman, popularised by Nic Jones), Bush Fire (Eric Bogle), Newlyn Fair Maids (acquired from the late Toni Savage) and a pairing of Dory Previn songs suggested by Dave Burland: all of which are very well done, with some supple and appealing guitar accompaniment from Andy's Martin and Gibson models. I also appreciated Andy's enterprise in combining Lord Huntley with Twa Corbies. But too much of the remainder of the menu is comprised of songs which are now almost "too popular for their own good" and done to death, one might say Don't Think Twice, Georgia On My Mind, Rosemary's Sister, Where Have All The Flowers Gone?, Drift Away - which leads neatly to what for me is the disc's sticking-point, which should really be its virtue: the consistent Andy Wall stamp. For no-one can fail to enjoy Andy's unassumingly competent performances: his basic performing style is attractive and accommodating, companionable, and just what you need for a quality warm-up set or reliable floor spot. But (and this is not meant to sound unkind), in the final analysis, Andy's just a little too efficient and even-toned from one song to the next - it's not that his renditions are too consciously practised, but more that his interpretations feel to have "settled" too much and he's now got little genuinely new or spontaneous to bring to the songs – for which reason it's hard to get excited about them all over again. However, those reservations notwithstanding, it's still good – and necessary – to have a permanent record of Andy's artistry: and especially one as truthful and well-recorded as this one.
David Kidman May 2009
Those who have their indie credentials in order will recognise Walla as producer, songwriter and guitarist for Death Cab For Cutie. No real surprise then that his solo album sounds pretty much like the day job. Just with more of a political streak.
If you happen to be a DCFC fan, then you'll be well content with this. If you've never heard of them, then the comparisons won't matter and you can take Walla's finely crafted collection of indie rock on its own terms, a mix of soft, breathy ballads and more cranked up electric guitar noise. The latter's well represented by The Score and its chunky riffing put to service of a lyric about bringing the troops home along with more alt-rock pop numbers like Geometry &C, the Hurricane Katrina themed Everybody Needs A Home and Our Plans, Collapsing.
On the quieter side, Sing Again does a pleasant pop jog, while both A Bird Is A Song and It's Unsustainable are slow and hushed to the point of almost disappearing. It doesn't actually have much to say about the state of the world that anyone with a soft liberal social conscience won't have already filed in their commitments diary, but it has a pleasant musical warmth and the opening track, Two-Fifty, is a lovely, lushly melodic and dreamily harmonised number that just tips this beyond being more than something for Cutie completists.
www.hallofjusticerecording.com
www.myspace.com/chriswalla
Mike Davies May 2008
Perhaps the biggest clue to the principal intended selling-point of this release lies in its title – the uncovering of a number of tunes which have either never been recorded before or are rare or almost forgotten (many previously existing only within the confines of Garry's own family). The "old music from Counties Cork and Louth", learnt from Garry's parents over the years, indeed. The only exceptions to this are three individual tunes composed by family members, including one by Garry himself. But then again, Garry himself is only just being "uncovered" – ie discovered – as a musician, for this is his debut release. Manchester-born but with strong family roots in Counties Louth and Cork, Garry plays flute - and superbly too. But as well as the D flute, he also plays the B-flat and E-flat instruments which are less often heard in the tune repertoire. His playing style is at once fluid and highly rhythmic, and sometimes possesses a wonderful quality of lonesomeness in tone that is often remarked as associated with parts of Counties Clare and Galway. Garry's excellent playing is complemented on this release by some equally excellent musicianship courtesy of Clare Fitzpatrick (fiddle), Dave Hennessy (melodeon), former De Dannan-ite Colm Murphy (bodhrán) and Johnny Neville (guitar). These extra musicians are used variously and sparingly, and each track has a different instrumental complement, making for a stimulating variety of texture and atmosphere. Highlights for me were the set of reels (track 8) which team Garry's D-whistle with Colm's bodhrán, the hornpipes (track 7) on which Garry's accompanied by Clare and Dave, and the sets on which Garry plays the B-flat flute (notably the jigs on track 11), where the eerie deep quality of the flute itself is given a beautifully mellow counterpoint by Ilsa De Ziah's guest cello contribution. The final set brings the whole ensemble together on stage for a relaxed pair of reels. It's great to be able to hear so many new tunes on an album for a change. My only criticism of this fine CD is its criminally short playing time (37 minutes); why oh why?…
www.ossian.ie
www.copperplatedistribution.com
David Kidman
To this tale of love triangle guilt you can add the dreamy As He Pleases, I Cling On For Dear Life (where, sparsely accompanied, she sounds a bit like a young Tori Amos) and 1000 Bees ("you sting with...", well, you get the picture) which sees her either fearing losing or already having lost her current lover.
Mind you, June Last Year (with added pedal steel) and Gather My Strength both suggest she might come on a bit strong (there's a certain scary obsessiveness when she sings 'I need to bring him my love') and be a bit of an emotional clinger while Trying has her confessing to being compulsively attracted to train wreck romeos.
Still, she's head over heels again for Seafarer, declaring "I want to keep this man; I want to sing about it" and pleading "let him have me" to a jazzed country arrangement. At least this one doesn't end in tears by the last verse.
All this might be more suitable for an agony aunt correspondence course were it not for the fact Walsh doesn't come across as particularly self-pitying and is as honest about her own faults as she is scathing about the men who've messed her about. And, besides, Old Man isn't actually about some middle aged lothario, it's about being screwed by the music business.
Plus, there's that enfolding warm voice and the fact that, for this album, she's fleshed out the sound with a considerable but sympathetic use of strings and enlisted Olly Knights from Turin Brakes to provide harmonies on Trying and the swelling, gorgeously sad Greatest Love. Crispin Hunt from Longpigs also lends his vocals for the tinkling On The Stage, a number on which the lines "imagine what it's like to have to pour your bleeding heart into a song for all to hear" reassuringly show that all those romantic disasters haven't dulled her wry sense of humour and irony. The woman has a great divorce album in her.
www.katewalsh.co.uk
www.myspace.com/katewalsh
Mike Davies September 2009
New Jersey native Billy Walton has paid his dues on the blues circuit but the addition of bassist William Paris and drummer Marcus Croan has taken him to a different level. This is his debut album and Radio is a hi energy, hi impact opener – good blues rock. There is no doubting his fretboard skills on the eponymous title track but the song is a little nondescript. Hypnotized has a funky reggae beat with a rock base. Walton sets the frets on fire on this surprising highlight. The title says it all on Soul Song. It's another song and another genre. On its own it is fine but I wish he would just pick a style and get on with it. He gets back to blues rock with Set Backs and you can chant along to this until your heart is content.
Treat Her Right is a speedy R&B with another shout along chorus. Walton's guitar drives this along very well. Spreading The Blues is the kind of heavy blues rock that the Billy Walton Band excels at and air guitar players should look out their plectrums. This is short, sweet and solid. Distorted Views is a mid-paced blues ballad of a style similar to that of Gary Moore. This is more restrained than others but that lets you pick out his superb technique more. However, he can't help himself and eventually lets it rip. He's not up to it vocally at the start of Jersey Devil but he does eventually come onto his game on this Bon Jovi style rocker. He's not in Bon Jovi's class vocally but he does have claims to rival Richie Sambora on guitar. They finish with a strange choice, The Temptations' Papa Was A Rollin' Stone. I had reservations when I saw it listed on the sleeve and my fears were partially founded. Thankfully, it's not a rehash of the original (why try to match perfection). There's a strange end to it with a voice box over Walton's guitar but it is a valiant effort nonetheless.
David Blue October 2009
David Kidman
Doctor by day, seminal name in British country music away from the surgery, Wangford's been making music for some twenty years, a clear influence on the likes of Alabama 3 and Billy Bragg.
Disappointing, then, to have to say that this isn't up among the best of his albums. With the likes of Martin Belmont, Roy Dodds, BJ Cole and Reg Meuross on board, it's certainly musically adept, classy and relaxed with some lovely keening melodies. Hank's smoky voice is on good form too. It's just that too many of the songs don't really hold up.
On the credit side, opening waltzer Lonely Together is the sort of number you'd expect to find Willie Nelson covering, Told You Say a fine sample of laid back Western Swing, Jealousy a twangy tale of obsession and the pedal steel keening and the witty Mr and Mrs Teardrops and Moping To Mopping could both pass as a 40s Grand Ol' Opry nuggets.
On the other hand, Ballad of Bill Pickett takes the fascinating story of Negro Cherokee Indian cowboy who, being black, was 'no use to Hollywood' and does nothing with it other than to say Tom Mix and Will Rogers got rich and famous and he didn't. And, really, when One Of Those Days rolls out the line 'it's one of those afternoons where nothing goes right, your friends all call you a shite', you really do cringe in embarrassment. He's made and hopefully will make better records, meanwhile this really is one for completist fans.
Mike Davies December 2008
Having paired off with Zooey Deschanel for last year's 60s pop pastiche project She & Him, the Oregon singer-songwriter returns with his own sixth solo album, a mix of self-penned material and deconstructed covers, produced by Brighy Eyes' Mike Mogis with strings arranged by Peter Broderick.
She's still with Him on two tracks. There she is harmonising and singing yeah yeah on Never Had Anybody Like You, a crunchy glam rock stomp that mashes together Johnny Cash, T Rex and the Glitter Band. And again, aahhing away in the background of a scuffed up crackle voiced lazy surf campfire Jack Johnson rework of Buddy Holly's Rave On with twangy guitar, tubular bells and what sounds like crashing waves.
It's a cover too that welcomes his other female guest, Lucinda Williams slurred croak joining his yawned exhalations for a slowed down, strung out slouch version of Don Gibson's Oh Lonesome Me that drags itself along the dust tracks with simple tapped guitar, sleepy strings and a solitary piano note.
Then there's Granddaddy's Jason Lytle joining in on back ups for To Save Me, a broken-limbed, percussion lashed Beach Boys boogie-woogie rumble, but for the rest it's a one man vocal show, kicking off with, appropriately enough, For Beginners, a simple hushed -rolling rhythm acoustic strummed number which, when he gets to the 'ah ha' chorus lines sounds a lot like Cornershop.
Folk, pop and blues hang out together on several of the tracks; the backbeat Jailbeat, a backwoods One Hundred Million Years, the chugging Spectorised Stars Of Leo, a hillbillygospel Shangri-La and, nodding further to his religious persuasion and borrowing Cash's Folsom Prison Blues rhythm, Fisher Of Men.
Elsewhere you'll find the dreamy dusk-kissed Hold Time sporting classical piano soundtrack flavours, Epsytemology imagines itself in a Elvis movie about Catholic schools shot through a screen of fuzzed gauze, Blake's View muses on mortality and the afterlife to crooning tune and a Spanish guitar (though, rather unfortunately sounds a bit like an Eric Idle skit) before everything fades away on 50s surf guitar slow dance instrumental reimagining of Sinatra/Holiday hit I'm A Fool To Want You. Less immediately obvious than some of his previous albums and certainly nothing like as accessible as his Deschanel collaboration (of which she promises a Vol 2), but if you've acquired a taste for Ward's croak then this rolls around the mouth most palatably.
www.myspace.com/mward
www.mwardmusic.com
Mike Davies February 2009
A fan funded release via www.sellaband.com (a required $50,000 budget made up of minimum $10 investments), the Kent born London based singer-songwriter can at least be sure he's going to sell a fair few copies to those who've put their money where their musical tastes are.
These, one would surmise from the tracks here, would tend to revolve around David Gray, James Blunt and Damien Rice, all of whom Ward-Murphy's warble tends to evoke. Although the uptempo The Queen Of Something New could prove a Radio 2 magnet, he's unlikely to enjoy comparable massive success, but, finely produced by veteran knob-twiddler Tony Platt, it certainly warrants wider attention than his 'believers'.
Predominantly acoustic, the stripped down arrangements (a smattering of strings and an occasional Wurlitzer) afford space for the emotional investment in the literate material to come through on numbers like the heart quivering The Genius Of Myra, violin backed dreamers hymn Under The Wire, the bluesy-pop My Beautiful Predicament and the breath-catchingly loveliness of I Think I Made You Smile and The Sun Is In Your Eyes, one of two duets with Jennifer Delaney. It's fair to say, his fans have got a pretty good deal for their $10.
Mike Davies February 2009
A direct, honest, open-hearted album from this brilliant communicator of song who when performing live invariably conjures an enchanting evening worth travelling miles to catch. Jeff's parents, Frank and Anne Warner, were of course two of America's most important and revered song collectors, so Jeff himself has been doubly fortunate to have been immersed in traditional song both from early on and throughout his life since; the resultant depth of knowledge and understanding is carried enthusiastically on through his ever-enterprising choice of material and into his music-making, and most infectiously too. Jeff's warm, deceptively relaxed performing style is very involving; it helps too that you can hear every word he sings, whether it's a broadside ballad or a music-hall/Tin Pan Alley ditty with higher-speed comic patter (after all, there are many examples of such that have legitimately entered the folk tradition) - for Jeff fully respects his sources and believes in getting his stories across clearly. Jeff's equally talented - and highly convincing - at conveying the essence of contrasting types of song: his renditions of Crossing The Bar (Rani Arbo's poignant setting of Tennyson) and The Southern Girl's Reply are especially beautifully turned, while Bald-headed End Of The Broom and Dan MacArthur's Yucky Bugs both demonstrate his chuckling propensity for just havin' some good old-fashioned fun. Jeff closes the album with a wonderfully wistful version of a piece which he "sometimes…(considers) the perfect song", Peter Bellamy's setting of Kipling's Mandalay. Jeff freely admits, though, that he "keeps on coming back to the old songs", and several of those he's recorded here are taken straight from his parents' collection (three of them from the repertoire of Lena Bourne Fish and two from Eleazar Tillitt), but in true "folk process" fashion Jeff doesn't fight shy of adding a verse or two of his own when he feels it's appropriate (as for Come Take A Trip In My Airship). Accomplished though Jeff is on guitar, banjo or concertina, he's engaged some further musicians as accompanists here, including Rodney Miller (violin) and David Surrette (mandolin), while on a handful of songs either Barbara Benn or Bruce Macintyre provides a supporting vocal part. The instrumental backings are both highly apposite and finely contoured, though I'm not entirely convinced by the use of piano keyboard on the title track, which seems to allow for a winding-down of pace that doesn't quite fit the song. But that's a minor issue of personal taste, I suspect, in what remains essentially an immensely enjoyable disc.
David Kidman, July 2006
The name of John Warner should be familiar to readers even if it might take a moment or two to recall exactly why! John's a fine folk historian and songwriter whose stock-in-trade is poignant and well-researched songs about Australian social history and heritage; you'll doubtless have heard the wonderful Anderson's Coast, which came from John's earlier Pithead In The Fern project (as did Miner's Washing), while Dave & Anni's latest album features John's rousing union anthem Bring Out The Banners. John's latest project is a substantial (hour-long) song-and-verse-cycle about Yarri, a Wiradjuri man who heroically saved the lives of nearly fifty European settlers during the great flood in Gundagai in 1852; it's performed here by John himself with Margaret Walters and the rest of the (Australian) Roaring Forties ensemble imparting additional vocals and instrumentation. With his keen sense of both history and the wider picture, John's a born storyteller who has the knack of involving his listeners and keeping them involved through the use of bold and lively imagery and the direct, honest and compassionate depiction of universal human emotions and truths; his characters come alive through the natural roleplay allocated to the various singers, all of whom have strong and distinctive voices. Instrumentation is colourful, well chosen and not at all overdone, with guitars, whistles, mandolin, bouzouki and a modicum of percussion tellingly augmented by the signature tones of the didjeridoo. The production is technically superb, both clear and forward, with the various elements in truthful balance; and it's good that (unlike with Pithead) any ambient sound effects are used sparingly here and confined mainly to the Great Flood sections, where they underpin, and really do enhance, the verse. As for the songs, well there are plenty of very fine and memorable ones here which (perhaps surprisingly given the fairly specialist nature of the tale) I'm sure are destined to gain wider currency outside of complete performances of the cycle. The stylings of the songs have their roots in traditional forms - lament, ballad, shanty, protest song - and each example is wholly believable, with John's innate feel for the epic sweep of traditional verse-drama forming the icing on the cake. Inevitably, several of the songs deal with the personal elements of the tragedy, the response of the settlers to the unforgiving climate and the plight of the Indigenous people in the face of settlement. Additionally, John has creatively embodied the river itself with a female "personality", and two of the most striking songs (Mother And Daughter and Black Sally) take the form of touching duets between Margaret Walters and Jennifer Lees; Jennifer also pairs up (this time with Robin Connaughton) on another standout song, Richard And Sarah, which highlights the conflict within a family unit between the needs for safety from the flood and income from trade. On Reward, the status of Yarri as spokesman for his people is starkly but effectively represented with the help of call-and-response techniques, while numbers such as John Spencer's Punt and Roof Top Shanty also benefit from some lusty and vigorous chorus singing. There are times, especially early on, when the sections of verse (persuasively narrated by John Derum) seem to predominate (although this impression quickly proves false should you check out the timings); however, but the cumulative impact of the writing becomes so great as the piece follows its course through the drama that the verse narrative and commentary feel wholly naturally integrated by the time you're even halfway through. It feels like you're carried along with the ebb and flow of the Murrumbidgee River, in fact! And the overwhelmingly positive message of the piece, that of healthy and fruitful interaction between Indigenous and other Australians, comes through loud and clear. Yarri Of Wiradjuri is more than just a song-cycle, it's a powerful and haunting historical document: a bit like a bridge between concept album and radio- ballad perhaps, and convincing on all fronts. And importantly, it benefits from being played all through in one continuous sitting, and proves a compelling and rewarding experience, one that bears repeating.
David Kidman May 2007
Line many an artist who seemingly appears from nowhere, the androgynous Kansas City born African-American singer's paid her dues, playing Missouri jazz clubs, busking in New York and Paris (where she's now based), releasing an EP, opening for Erykah Badu, sharing a bill with Martha Wainwright and touring with Rufus Wainwright.
She made her UK debut last year with a showstopping appearance on Later With Jools Holland before going on to play at the London Jazz Festival and Union Chapel as support to country star Diana Jones.
Currently part of Nick Drake tribute show tour Way To Blue, she's not going to be an unknown much longer. Signed to the Paris based label three years ago, she recorded her debut album at Electric Ladyland studios with her New York based band under the guiding hand of Grammy winning producer Russell Elevado, drawing on influences that range from the Bill Withers and Marvin Gaye to Aretha and Me'Shell NdegeOcello for a sound that mixes earthy soul, folk, blues, jazz and indie.
She's been described as musical bridge between Jeff Buckley and Nina Simone and you can certainly hear traces of the latter in her octave ranging voice while echoes of Armatrading and Odetta aren't fanciful. She writes city songs about urban life that span the spectrum from giddy romance to desolate loneliness, dressing them in the infectious melodies and sophisticated arrangements given flawless life by a band which, as the limbs-snaking, slide guitar showcasing, itchy rhythm Current Events shows, have chops to spare
Year End Issue, the song that first introduced her to a UK audience, opens the album on a note of languid romantic folk-soul and lines about 'trousers, socks and underwear" that could do for her what Fast Car did for Tracy Chapman.
But that's just the tip of the iceberg as she moves with masterly assurance through the Withers-like Three Women, a gospel hued Sunday Comfort, playful sashaying jazz swing To The Middle, piano backed, brushed drums jazz-soul waltzing croon Some Trivial Pursuit with its hints of Dinah Washington, Sparkle And Fade's softly puttering samba with its vocal counterpointing, and the Broadway musical loft apartment feel of A View From The Rooftop, a song that suggests a pairing with Randy Newman might work a very special magic.
With further highlights in Title Track (sic) catching the emotional fragility that lingers in the heart-smoked moments just before dawn and a soul drenched The Means To Be's gradual build from clip clopping country through pizzicato strings to cacophonous freak out climax, it's clear you're in the presence of a supernova just waiting to flare.
Mike Davies January 2010
Warsaw Village Band - Uprooting (World Village)
This is likely to be an ear-opener of a CD for many listeners – demanding perhaps, but urgent, thrilling, raw, earthy, exhilarating, invigorating. It can be overwhelming when played loud, too, but go for it I say! The WVB's energetic approach to traditional Polish folk music has been dubbed hard-core; it's certainly a very upfront and hard-edged sound, with strident female vocals (that wonderful primeval rural "white voice" style) and prominent swooping, surging fiddles, a rich palette that's bolstered by cellos, baraban and frame drums, with occasional hurdy-gurdy, hammer-dulcimer, jew's harp and xylophone. In a defiant spirit of no-concession-more of-a-challenge-to-modernism, the band have even engaged a couple of DJs to scratch and add electronic touches (and indigenous roots samples) to two tracks, but even this experimentation works for me and certainly can't spoil the sheer physicality, the unbridled impact of the music. In fact, it's good to hear that musicians with an evident penchant for authenticity can also creatively but selectively embrace new techniques of expression, credibly and on their own terms. The sheer friskiness of the ensemble that marks their incredible live presence is captured remarkably faithfully on this studio recording. Not all the material is taken an a frenetic pace by any means; the ceremonial song Let's Play, Musicians is dignified and powerful, and augmented by the Lipsk women's choir, and there are also moments where time almost seems to stand still, as on Maja Klescz's solo Lament. There are just a few typically spirited instrumental tracks too, but the majority of the selections contain those magnificent and highly seductive female vocals – and you needn't be worried that you won't understand what they're singing about, as synopses are given in the booklet notes. Tremendous stuff – do take a chance and hear it!
David Kidman
A twentysomething English singer-songwriter whose first studio session was a $10 recording of You Were Always On My Mind in a Nashville theme park, Warwick's story has been one of steamrollering success. After a stint with her own band, she recorded an EP that funded a trip back to Nashville where producer Marl Moffatt put her together with Reba McEntire's musicians to record six tracks. From this came her debut single, Mistake, a twangy mainstream country ballad delivered in a voice evocative of a Dolly Parton/Loretta Lynn cocktail that made a sizeable impression on Texas and Nashville charts and topped the European CMSA chart over Christmas 2004.
Bouyed by success, the six tracks then emerged as a mini-album, Maverick, with the pedal steel southern country rocking line-dance friendly Highway 109 lifted as a second single. That hit No 1 on the British Independent country chart and earned her a Female Vocalist of the Year nomination by the European CMA. So it was back to Nashville to record more tracks, this time with McEntire's band augmented by contributions from guitarist George Marinelli and noted steel player Bruce Bouton.
The result pairs the six tracks from Maverick with six new numbers. The former includes the first two singles, alongside the funky rhythmed Cowboy that shows off the growl in her voice and sounds, in a perverse sort of way, a bit like Jolene on mescal, and the coiled rocking Angel, one of the few songs that don't deal in either woman done wrong/right or woman fallen out of love relationships.
Of the newer material, the opening Sunshine points towards pop crossover territory and, given its Nashville roots, rather oddly calls to mind The Corrs, Lovin' rucks it up while a banjo niggles away underneath the sassy attitude while both Goodbye and the politically veined Excuse Me (references the death of Princess Di and George Bush's war agenda) underline the fact that she's more about rocking out country than moping around crying into beer glasses.
Two of the tracks are non-originals, the raunchy snakehips Rodeo Man from Amy Mayo and Marv Green who wrote Amazed for Lonestar, and her recent country chart hit One Last Look At Love, a ringingly anthemic chorus powered number by Moffatt, Jon Robbin and Alex Call (who penned Huey Lewis' Power of Love) that pulls on its boots, throws back its head and showcases Warwick's classic Dolly come Lucinda warble to sterling effect.
The only Brit country artist to chart in the America last year, Warwick's already earned her spurs. This album should see her firmly in the saddle for the future too.
Mike Davies, May 2006
Ricky Warwick - Tattoos & Alibis (Sanctuary)
Mike Davies
Abigail's recent hectic five years of touring with Uncle Earl hasn't seemed to stop her from pursuing a parallel solo career, and her solo CD Song Of The Travelling Daughter was released in 2006 to much critical acclaim.
By this time, she'd already put into practice a touring partnership with cellist Ben Sollee, and toured China along with Ben, banjo maestro Béla Fleck and bold young fiddler Casey Driessen, under the collective name of the Sparrow Quartet. It's an extraordinary combination of talents, this newly-recorded instance of which is given even more of a cutting edge by Abigail's genuine bilinguality (some songs are sung in Chinese, and this is no mere gimmick of token orientalism!).
As you can hear straightway in the (mostly) instrumental prelude (Overture), old-time Americana is rendered a world-scale musical language, where orientalisms turn back and forth into old-time, newgrass and classical gestures (just like in the movies!). Elsewhere too, challenging and innovative elements are introduced into the soundscape: not least the unusual sounding-together of two banjos (clawhammer and three-finger style) with cello and five-string fiddle. And of course there's the inalienable fact that these musicians all have a hell of a track record for innovation - Béla has virtually reinvented the sound and image of the humble banjo in a long-term crusading career, while Casey has proved a visionary in combining virtuoso playing and improvisatory capabilities with a feel for the tradition. Ben's more of a wild-card, in that his unique approach to playing the cello (combining spirited fiddling with three-finger-style pizzicato and percussive bow work) is only recently being lauded for its inventiveness and soulful and gutsy qualities. And by the way, Ben also sings (pretty well too!) and writes songs.
As for Abigail herself, well she has a voice to die for, and a very individual one: deliciously resonant, and with an often unexpected approach to phrasing, it's also capable of some interesting decorative expression (not to mention that authentic Chinese, and even a hint of overtone technique, alongside some yodelling). It can seem a little strident too on isolated occasions, as on the sanctified-style Strange Things, but that's not a barrier to the adventurous listener. Seven of the thirteen tracks are Abigail's own compositions, two of these being jointly penned with Ben; pick of these are the creepily intimate and emotionally fragile It Ain't Easy (it sure ain't!), which features the intriguing sound of a "sitar banjo", and the delicate, charmingly tactile imagery of Oh Me Oh My.
Elsewhere, there's still lots to admire, whether in the homespun call-and-response of Captain (inspired by a Lomax recording of the Georgia Sea Islands Singers), the almost unbearably plaintive, love-obsessed A Fuller Wine or the funky chinoiserie of the folk tune entwined within Béla's Old Time Dance Party. Any sense of mild exoticism, as in Journey Home or the Chinese traditional Tayang Chulai, is perfectly plausible; much of the melodic invention is highly memorable, and the yodel-bedecked waltzery of Great Big Wall In China will sit around your brain for ages after. (I do need to warn you about one small presentation glitch, tho': the order in which you hear tracks 10 and 11 is different to that given both on cover and in booklet.)
This is a stunningly original and very stimulating record, the likes of which I'd guarantee you won't hear elsewhere, and it's one which goes into my end-year best-of shortlist for sure.
www.abigail-washburn.com
www.myspace.com/abigailwashburn
David Kidman June 2008
Abigail Washburn - Song Of The Traveling Daughter (Nettwerk)
Illinois-born Abigail's biog is fascinatingly different from the pack, and her musical career so far could be considered serendipitous - especially when, as she claims, she never planned on having one! Six years ago, during her first year at college, Abigail joined a summer exchange programme to China and found that Chinese culture had a profound effect on her; then, on her return to the States, hearing Doc Watson was just one of the catalysts that led her to explore her own American traditional roots.
She bought a banjo, joined a string-band whose banjo player had just departed, and quickly got hooked on live performing and delving deeper into the roots of American tradition. Soon after, she started writing songs, both in the traditional idiom and (unbelievably!?) in Chinese, and cemented her prowess on the banjo by touring China with a group of friends and bluegrassers, performing both bluegrass and traditional songs in both English and Chinese... and then she joined the band Uncle Earl (whose debut album, out on Rounder, I'm still waiting to hear). Abigail's first solo CD, then, just has to be something rather unusual and special - and so it proves. She describes it as "my journey to the subtle heart of the most American of all things... transformation" - and there are several places during its 47-minute length when you might say that before your very ears, old-time roots music will transform and transmute into oriental music.
You get a real sense that Abigail is caught between the two cultures, though this comes across as a good thing rather than something that's tearing her apart and fragmenting her creativity. Abigail evidently likes being a bridge, and this is reflected in the instrumental cut, a medley of Backstep Cindy and Purple Bamboo (namechecking Riley Baugus and George Gao as handed-down sources), which is followed by The Lost Lamb, one of two original songs of Abigail's here which are written (and sung) in Chinese; this is way more accessible than it might sound, by the way!
The majority of the songs on the album are Abigail's own compositions, in fact; many of these, like the opener Sometimes, are couched in the traditional old-time idiom, yet the more contemporary-sounding Halo (co-written with her grandfather in a nursing home) is every bit as compelling (although the closing track, the similarly acutely personal Momma, isn't exactly a comfortable listen by comparison). Musically too, although the basic idiom of Abigail's music is traditional old-time, there are plenty of occasions (like especially the title track and the curiously-accented Eve Stole The Apple) where oriental-sounding (and specifically Chinese) modality kicks in and/or permeates the melodic lines and inflections in the vocal phrasing. Having said that, Abigail's singing throughout the album (in whatever language) is most compelling, and she convinces equally on the delectable brokenhearted lullaby Rockabye Dixie, the bouncy jugband Coffee's Cold, the fetching McGarrigle-esque Red And Blazing and the cautiously poetic Deep In The Night.
I also liked the simple but effective acappella Single Drop Of Honey, featuring the gorgeous harmony vocal of Megan Gregory. Instrumentally, Abigail and her trusty banjo are supplemented selectively by a handful of other musicians, who together give the recording its unique sound - Ben Sollee's cello figures large, but there are also significant contributions from Casey Driessen (fiddle) and Jordan McConnell (guitars, whistles, uilleann pipes), while Amanda Kowalski (bass), Tim Lauer (accordion), Ryan Hoyle (percussion) - and Bela Fleck - drop in too from time to time! There really is nobody else doing quite this blend of musics - you wouldn't think it could work with such unlikely bedfellows or components but it does, and it sure weaves its primitive magic for me. This is a striking, spellbinding and highly individual album that's immediately joining the ranks of my year's best so far (hey, it's getting to be a vintage year already).
David Kidman
The Watchman is Ad Van Meurs, that guitar-picking Dutchman who played an important part in the intriguing, if flawed Arabicana project No Blues which I reviewed here last year. He writes predominantly contemplative songs, as the eleven here on his second album High Acres demonstrate. The problem for me is that, while there's no escaping the fact that the quality of writing, playing and recording is above-average and certainly competent, the quality of invention and memorability doesn't quite measure up to the exacting standard set by other writers of his ilk. Ad's surrounded himself with good musicians, including his wife Ankie (who also produced the album), Stephan Jankowski (guitars), Theo Wijdeven (bass), and Eric Van Der Lest (drums), but the whole affair's relatively anonymous, if tasteful enough, verging on easy-listening country-flavoured acousticana (as exemplified by the introductory instrumental cut Eagle Lander (not one of Ad's pieces, but instead composed by Tinus Tabak). Even the more satisfying of the cuts, like Autumn Blues, Jump Over The Wall and The River, fail to completely engage for the whole of their length and despite their easy fluency of expression many of the rest of the songs possess a distinctly flat, even slightly stilted quality. The entire album, indeed, is agreeable and inoffensive, sure, but in the end rather lukewarm in emotional impact thus not easy to forge a connection with.
David Kidman, October 2006
The mighty Waterboys are back - with a Crash - a Crash Of Angel Wings in fact, the opening track on this brand new salvo. It's been heralded as a natural successor to the band's classic recordings, and in many respects it fits that bill admirably. Recorded last autumn, it shows Mike and the band on top form on a set of strong, mature new compositions which explore life and love in the confident and perceptive manner we associate with Mike's best writing. The book of life is the book of lightning, containing many storms which we must weather, and Mike uses the constantly-present physical and meteorological landscape as a metaphor for the emotional, to potent effect - and to which the powerhouse instrumental backdrop forms the ideal foil. Many of these new songs are I'm sure destined to become Waterboys classics: the majestic and stately She's Gonna Hold Me, the supercharged Crash Of Angel Wings, the wistful Nobody's Baby Anymore, the perplexed reflection of Strange Arrangement, the anthemic You In The Sky... Then there's the tender She Tried To Hold Me, which packs a hefty punch despite some over-obvious rhyming. The heady days of the Fisherman's Blues sessions are recalled on Everybody Takes A Tumble, where Steve Wickham's fiddle brings the expected dash of Celtic swing, but for much of the album it's the "big sound" that dominates - albeit with plenty of shafts of light penetrating the stormy brooding cloudscape. The band are on excellent, typically stirring form, and the guest contributions are sparing but telling (special mention for Roddy Lorimer's trumpet on Sustain). The epic sweep of Book Of Lightning makes it a masterful continuation of the Waterboys story, and yes, a blistering return to form.
David Kidman June 2007
If they'd never made another record, Mike Scott's band The Waterboys should have ensured themselves a place on everyone's shelves with their classic 1988 (fourth) album Fisherman's Blues. Strictly blues it wasn't though, but a storming parade of cuts that virtually defined the term Celtic Roots Rock. It also defined its time, an era when rock had lost its way again and was journeying back to roots in search of (or to rediscover) depth. In 1986, Mike had come to the conclusion that the Waterboys had taken their "broad, symphonic sound" as far as they could, and he was returning to the simplicity and purity of folk and country in his listening, absorbing the soul of those musics anew in company with new recruit, fiddler Steve Wickham in preparation for the unveiling of Mike's own freshly stripped-down "open-horizoned style of acoustic roots music", which was (as Mike puts it in his sleevenotes) "performed with a high quotient of delight" (and a deliciously subtle style of drumming, courtesy of Noel Bridgeman, that was an antidote to the crash-bang school of folk-rock). Hearing it again after a time away, its intelligent good-time vibe and obvious deep respect for the tradition and the common roots recalls vintage Lindisfarne – but if anything it has even greater impact. It's great news, therefore, that Fisherman's Blues has now been reissued in a brand new remastered form (overseen by Mike himself) with not only greatly enhanced sound quality - you really can hear every strand of the texture - and including significantly extended versions of two of its songs (World Party and And A Bang On The Ear). The package is even further expanded by a whole CD's worth of quality bonus material featuring 14 extra tracks that were cut at the album sessions (including alternate versions of the title track and When Will We Be Married?). This really is an object lesson on how best to present a reissue, and an absolutely essential acquisition.
David Kidman, July 2006
The Waterboys - Universal Hall (Puck)
Reunited with violinist Steve Wickham, Mike Scott's latest excursion under his band moniker was recorded in the Hall of the title at Findhorn, two factors that help explain the sense of spirituality that runs through its dozen tracks.
Considerably pared down from the sometimes bombastic sound of his Big Music days with even the lyrics rarely stretching beyond a couple of repeated lines. It's an acoustic low key (though Seek The Light is a huge distorted sonic rumble and tumble that sounds like The Smiths gone folk) affair built around piano, guitar, and fiddle, at times harking back to their Celtic days, steeped in religious images of open hearted prayers (listen to The Christ in You) and declarations of love, a theme that finds its most expansive expression in the closing title track where he sings 'I sacrifice my power on the altar of your love.' Simple, intimate and devotional it may strike some as needing filing in the New Age rather than the Rock section, but the busking strum of the uplifting This Light Is For The World and the heart-wrenching soaringly anthemic Silent Fellowship truly deserve their place nestling next to The Whole of the Moon.
Mike Davies
The Waterson: Carthy folk supergroup follow up their excellent Broken Ground album (over two years old now, yet it seems but five minutes ago!) with their fourth "corporate" album. Their individual and collective voices and instruments make a glorious sound, and this is a glorious CD, made in celebration of some of the people who had a profound effect on one or other of the clan at some stage in their musical lives. So Martin kicks off with a version of The Devil And The Farmer learnt from Seamus Ennis, followed by Eliza's new take on May Morning, which like the less-often-heard Crystal Spring she learnt from the Cecil Sharp collection. Vibrant and way-above-mere-efficient-retreads though these cuts all prove to be, it's track 3 that set me bolt upright in my chair. It's an absolutely spinechilling Death And The Lady, introduced by a spectral slide guitar figure that could only be the work of Martin Simpson - and so it proves when I consult the sleeve! (he also backs Norma's singing of the eerie Holland Handkerchief later in the CD). The tune used has been oh-so-slightly altered from the original source by Norma, emphasising the unsettling minor-key modality. And at long last W:C have got round to recording The Old Churchyard, which they learnt from "Granny" (alias Almeida Riddle of Arkansas) back in the late 70s; here we get a chance to wallow in the electrifying sound of the clan's combined voices in unaccompanied mode. Instrumentally, the wondrous energy of Eliza's fiddle playing is a vital element in the sound-picture, and is a special delight when combined with dad's sprightly guitar and the ebullient melodeon of "new kid on the W:C block", Tim Van Eyken (who has replaced Saul Rose on things squeezy). There's a version of Seventeen Come Sunday, set by Tim to a Cornish tune, that's neatly framed by sparkling performances of a Morris tune and hornpipe. And the closer, a magisterial and earthily rousing 7-minute ensemble sing through the Copper Family's Shepherds Arise, is alone worth the price of the CD. Previously, I was a mite less convinced by Eliza's arrangement of Diego's Bold Shore, which though beautifully sung, perhaps sounds a little "parlour-bound" through having piano as its primary accompaniment. Overall, though, Waterson: Carthy can always be relied on to find something new to say about even the most well-travelled of traditional songs, and this superb album (with its typically cryptic, apparently contradictory yet somehow utterly apposite title) is a further exceptional demonstration of this.
www.folkicons.co.uk/wcart.htm
www.topicrecords.co.uk
David Kidman
Jacqui Watson - Cocaine And Brandy Days (Artist Choice)
New Zealander Watson recorded this album, her second, in Nashville and it is hard to believe that it is only two years since she was writing and practising on the farm back home. What she has produced are 12 self-written songs that will prove a milestone for her career to come. The opener, My Way Or The Highway, starts off in a country rock vein but the vocal doesn't stand up to scrutiny. The chorus could have been good and although this is a missed chance it does show promise. I Like You This Way gives further promise but she isn't quite there yet. The cover alludes to a country blues album and there are elements of both genres throughout.
The title track sees continued improvement and is a strong song. Jacqui's voice will get better as will her song writing. The backing on this is excellent. I Do is a gentle song with Mexican influences and Me And My Cardboard Man has all the ingredients for a top country song. Eileen is straightforward country but the introduction of electric guitars adds depth. That's The Way It Goes is another of her strong songs. It's well played and sung in a folk/country style. Magpie is debatably the best track on offer. Slow and gentle, it will just drift over you.
I know that in the past I've said that I don't like sentimental songs but, although Little Emma doesn't change my mind, it is better than most as it's not overly twee. You're Not Good Enough For Me doesn't do it for me lyrically although the chorus is superior to the verse on this country tinged offering. The album effectively ends with Best Friend, an old style country fest. The addition of fiddle and mandolin adds authenticity and gives Jacqui one of the best songs on the album - this is the direction that she should be heading. The actual last track is a version of I Like You This Way with added electric guitars.
'Promising' is a word that I have used more than once in this review and Jacqui Watson offers much promise for the future.
David Blue
Lorna, an exciting young Borders fiddler, was BBC Scotland Young Traditional Musician Of The Year finalist back in 2002 and 2003, has performed extensively with other artistes including live gigs with The Unusual Suspects and appearing on the Borders Young Fiddles CD; she's currently a student at the RSAMD. The "three" of this disc's title refers not to it being her third album, but instead to the three musicians who accompany her on the disc: these comprise accordionist/pianist Fiona Young and two equally talented but quite different guitarists, Innes Watson (Lorna's brother) and Barry Reid (of Croft No.5 fame): together this ensemble won the Danny Award at 2005's Celtic Connections festival. In spite of the number of musicians involved, however, textures are always sensibly lean and spare, with no excessive fills or unnecessary lines. On this CD, Lori's debut solo recording, she plays tunes both traditional and self-penned and sings (five) songs, these mostly traditional in origin. The disc kicks off with a flowing set of mazurkas which Lorna wrote, and subsequent instrumental tracks include sets of reels and jigs and a lively set of European dance tunes. Lorna's fiddle playing is cleanly articulated but never soulless, and her command of phrasing is both flexible and credible, while Fiona's light-textured accordion style is nothing but complementary and the admirable versatility of the two guitarists enables a greater flexibility in the choice of accompaniment for each selection than would normally be the case. The songs fare well too, for Lorna has a lithe and assured singing voice with a great sense of poise (it's also been described as silvery-toned), these traits seeming quite uncannily to match similar qualities in her fiddle playing. The spare, unaccompanied What Can A Young Lassie ... is probably the disc's song highlight: Lorna turns in a stunningly controlled, if marginally understated rendition of the text (collected by Burns) which she got from the singing of Cilla Fisher. I also liked Lorna's considered treatment of The Three Healths, and she also finds a (devilishly) driving pace for the dramatic Riddles Wisely Expounded ballad, although I do seriously question her method of ending that track, with a closing gimmick that, like many studio "effects", just jars after initial hearing. As far as the tunes are concerned, the lovely varied Capon set and the mesmerising Dreamer (air-and-reel combi) that closes the album are probably the pick of the bunch (good though the rest are), not least for the latter's inventive use of scordatura technique (whereby the fiddle's tuned differently from standard, making it sound rather Scandinavian). But the main feature of the playing is its consistent (and deceptively languid) quality of relaxed dynamism, whatever the tempo and whatever combination of instruments is playing at any given moment, so this disc can't fail.
David Kidman December 2007
Roger's best known for his work with Muckram Wakes and the New Victory Band, but more recently he played key roles in Mick Ryan's folk-opera The Navvy's Wife. However, he hasn't released a solo album for absolutely ages; here, at last, we have one: Past And Present. It keenly reflects the spirit of his freelance work for the organisation he founded, Traditional Arts Projects, by acknowledging the processes of tradition in his performances, notably in owning and individualising material from heritage sources.
Roger's ebullient and committed performance style, and not least in his choice of instrument – the trusty melodeon (with occasional forays onto English concertina) – will naturally invite (favourable) comparisons with other squeezebox masters such as John Kirkpatrick, Pete Coe and Brian Peters. Additionally, these performers all share a penchant for creatively rewriting or updating traditional sources – in a still-respectful but refreshingly non-po-faced manner. For this disc, Roger offers up three of his own rewrites: a cheeky but in the end quite poignant Peg Of Derby, a fun take on Lovely Joan that recalls Brian's recent "biker's Child Ballad" Six Nights Drunk, and a version of Lowlands that invokes the free spirits of Martin Luther King and other political figures. He also adds a telling extra verse to Two Brethren, familiar from the singing of the Copper Family. Roger's brace of original compositions on the disc (Gilliver and The Manager's Daughter) both draw on reminiscences of his ancestors who worked in the mining industry, and he also turns in a cover of the evocative Bob Pegg song Rip Van Winkle from the first Mr Fox LP (tho' I rather miss Carole Pegg's keening fiddle part!).
Elsewhere Roger ably displays his no-nonsense approach, instrumental dexterity and lively musicianship on a number of neatly-combined tune-sets, which embrace (among other delights) a non-jig version of Hunt TheSquirrel and a 3/2 hornpipe-round that uses an ektaal rhythm from a Bengali ra-g! On a handful of tracks, Roger enjoys musical and/or vocal assistance from Jackie Oates (five-stringed viola) or Tim Walker (flugelhorn, cornet), otherwise he performs resolutely solo – and he's in good robust voice too. In all, Past And Present does not disappoint, forming a well-rounded portrait of this charismatic performer.
David Kidman October 2009
Until recently, Kentucky born identical twins Chandra and Leigh Watson were best known as being the 'and...' on Rabbit Fur Coat, the bluegrass solo album by Rilo Kiley's Jenny Lewis. Now they step into their own spotlight with this debut album of sweet, swoonsome country-folk based pop that embraces a splash of mariachi trumpet on surf guitar on the retro pop Map To Where You Are, flirts with soul streaked folk for Bar Woman Blues and sifts through the Motown collection on the opening How Am I to Be. It is, perhaps, a little on the safe side with something like Lady Love Me and Only You in danger of fading into the wallpapered background. And while it may be all soft and cuddly, their cover of The Cure's Just Like Heaven drains the song of all its giddy exuberance and replaces it with a Sunday School teacher's crush.
Their songwriting could do with some extra work too, but, as Waves superbly illustrates, you can't fault those entwined voices while the Neil Young wintry folk feel of Sky Open Up and Dig A Little Deeper shows a willingness to dig into the darker corners of their influences. It's a well crafted calling card, but hopefully next time they'll really have the heat this title promised.
www.thewatsontwins.com
www.myspace.com/thewatsontwins
Mike Davies July 2008
Gaelic singer Catriona won the BBC Radio Scotland Young Traditional Musician Of The Year 2007: not surprisingly, for she's blessed with a beautiful, rich singing voice and takes a lyrical and thoughtful approach to her chosen repertoire. Her singing also has the power to move and excite, as each and every track on this her debut CD proves. One of the special hallmarks of her singing is a flair for conveying the dramatic without losing control of line (equally so on the rhythmic call-and-response of Ailein Duinn A Nì 'Sa Nàire and the more overtly emotional Luinneag Mhicleoid). And she convinces just as much on the snappier A' Bhean Eudach and Puirt A Beul as on the poignant Do Dh'Arm Righ Sheumais, with her deep understanding of the texts. Although the opening address to Ailein Duinn impresses all the more for being sung unaccompanied, Catriona's interpretation of the disc's title song (Sea Sleep) I can't imagine being surpassed. Just one track, A Song Of Parting (Óran Dealchaidh), was recorded away from the rest of the disc, at Catriona's home in Lewis and with her granny, Christy MacDonald, on backing vocals; this track gives the listener an intriguing double-take (the melody being more familiar as that of Paddy's Green Shamrock Shore). Catriona's distinctively sonorous voice is set into relief by some generous and highly musical settings, to which the main contributors are pianist Lauren Tait, fiddler Fiona MacAskill and whistle player Gillian Chalmers, with Martin O'Neill (bodhrán) and Duncan Lyall (bass) appearing on several tracks, and Mary Ann Kennedy and Mhairi Hall playing piano on one track apiece. Maybe one or two of the selections are a touch over-arranged (Nan Tigeadh Tu Idir for example), but there's generally a commendable sensitivity and restraint in the instrumental accompaniments. An T-Aingheal Diona employs the same number of musicians, but there's space left between the notes for the song to breathe and work its magic. The booklet includes texts and translations too - always a good sign. A very attractive release that heralds the arrival on disc of a significant interpreter of Gaelic song.
www.myspace.com/catrionawattband
David Kidman February 2009
The Waxwings - Let's Make Our Descent (Rainbow Quartz)
Detroit garage rock liberally laced with shades of American power pop, Liverpool beat 60s and 80s, and the psychedelia of the Stones circa Satanic Majesties is the musical story behind the outfit's latest excursion. Multi-part harmonies mix it up with the sort of fuzzed guitar noise favoured by 60s English r&b bands like The Pretty Things, which probably means that the album's unlikely to provide unilateral satisfaction but individually Steady As Starlight's guitars and keyboards summery old skool power pop, the chamber folk pop Of Late, the Who echoes in All The Fuss, and the Nuggetsy dirty water splashing over Sky's A Mirror make for invigorating retro pleasures.
Mike Davies
A Nashville four-piece with a noticeably wide age range, The Waybacks have Chuck Hamilton and Joe Kyle Jr. in their rhythm section and James Nash on guitar and vocals trading the frontman role with Warren Hood on fiddles and vocals. Warren Hood is the baby of the band and clearly the one to watch. His songs are simpler and more direct than James Nash's and he's the one who brings the swing/jazz/blues feel to the melange of Americana sounds presented here. His singing is pretty blooming good, having a feel for making the most of a line - or a word - and sounding remarkably emotionally commited. His fiddle playing, though, is positively stellar and worth the price of the cd on its own. His instrumental, 'Black Cat', just blows you away. Starting in the style of a sentimental East European folk tune, it heads in the direction of Stephan Grapelli and Django Reinhardt with some ferociously fast passages as Warren Hood and James Nash spark off each other, James Nash's guitar playing well married to the pyrotechnics coming from the fiddle.
In fact, James Nash's guitar playing is impressive throughout, whether acoustic or electric, and the band as a whole are clearly an excellent band, well in tune with each other. They're helped along by some pretty starry guests, Cindy Cashdollar, Sam Bush and Fats Kaplin amongst them. Nash's vocals are good, too, quite strong and resonant and coming from the folk/rock end of things. Unfortunately, I find his songs pretty clunky, with a tendency to stop/start and to be generally too wordy without clear purpose. This is nowhere clearer than with 'Beyond The Northwest Passage', a folk number with manly multi-voice choruses in the style of Tamarack or Great Big Sea. This sort of thing can be quite stirring, of course, but this lament for the damage wreaked by man's restless avarice is over-earnest and overlong. This awkwardness in the songwriting area contrasts strangely with the bright flow of his guitar playing, always appropriate and never self-indulgent.
I guess this is a typical three -star review, then: 'Loaded' is not likely to make anyone's essential listening list, but well worth checking out.
www.myspace.com/thewaybacks
www.waybacks.com
John Davy March 2008
The Wayfaring Strangers - This Train (Rounder)
Mike Davies
The Wayfaring Strangers - Shifting Sands of Time (Rounder)
Shifting Sands of Time by The Wayfaring Strangers hit my doormat with a classy thump during the last days of 2001. It's set a standard of musicianship and album production which will be tough to follow in 2002. This is director of the project and musician Matt Glaser's exploration and fusion of sophisticated jazz with bluegrass, folk, klezmer, blues and country. One moment it feels like Aaron Copland meets Jacqui McShee's Pentangle, the next rough backwoods meet New York jazz clubs, but it all works brilliantly. The thirteen tracks may gently meander but they are also musically adventurous; there's a coolly smooth undertow with hot and unexpected ripples breaking through. Every eloquent note is beautifully played and sung and it achieves an acoustic whole of quite surprising excellence.
The all-star ensemble (you really wouldn't want call them a Band) comprises Matt Glaser, violin, viola; Andy Statman, clarinet, mandolin; John McGann, guitar, mandolin; Jennifer Kimball, vocals (ex-The Story); Bruce Barth, piano; Tony Trischka, banjo; Jim Whitney, double bass. Guest vocalists include Ralph Stanley, Lucy Kaplansky, Tracy Bonham, Rhonda Vincent, Laurie Lewis, Tim O'Brien, Cathie Ryan, and Ry Cavanaugh.
Look out for this one - it's jazz, it's bluegrass, it's a classic and it's spell-binding! File under Good Music.
www.thewayfaringstrangers.com
www.rounder.com
Sue Cavendish
This is a highly creative venture authored by cellist Wendy Weatherby, but those with an aversion to the sound of the cello can rest content in the knowledge that it's not in any sense merely a vehicle for that instrument (although there's one brilliantly evocative piece scored for solo cello, Out Of This World And Into Blawearie, roughly halfway through). Instead, Sunset Song is an intense and heartfelt encapsulation of the essence of Lewis Grassic Gibbon's novel- one of the acknowledged classics of Scottish literature - through a musical exploration of some of the book's key themes, notably those of constancy and change in the landscape, people and farming practices of Aberdeenshire and the effects of World War I on the land and people. Commissioned by, and premièred at, Celtic Connections 2004, this is an ambitious work which by and large stands up very creditably to aural scrutiny, even if by its very nature there are bound to be a few mildly disjointed passages, especially where individual sections of musical depiction are necessarily short. The overall musical styling is simple, capably utilising elements of both folk and classical music, although some of the most satisfying items are those where folk-inspired material is arranged for, and played by, an ensemble. Having said that, the whole work flows really well and the alternation of instrumental and vocal sections is well coordinated. Wendy unifies the book's overview by having the singing voices of Mairi MacInnes and Rod Paterson providing the thoughts and ideas of the book's two principal characters, and this works admirably. The Pearlfishers' David Scott has provided some fine narrative lyrics for this purpose. The quality of the playing and the recording is exemplary, and Wendy clearly has been able to get the best out of her select coterie of musician contributors, who include among their fiddlers Chris Stout and Pete Clark, as well as those excellent instrumentalists Leo McCann (button accordion), Frank McLaughlin (smallpipes, guitar), Julie Fowlis (oboe, whistle), James Ross (piano) and Stevie Lawrence (bouzouki). The essential quality of Scottishness is naturally conveyed, partly through rich and convincing adaptations of traditional dance tunes, and the scoring of these and many other passages is sensitive and abundantly attractive, while thematic continuity is expertly managed through the time-honoured device of manipulation of motif and structure. The whole 58-minute span of this suite proceeds seemingly effortlessly, without a hitch, in music of great beauty that - unlike much "concept" music - is destined to be revisited.
David Kidman December 2007
This collection of (mostly) traditional tunes and songs has been assembled with the express intention of "helping to reinstate the cello as an integral part of Scottish music". And it succeeds admirably, I feel, although to be fair nearly half of the 13 tracks are in fact Wendy's own compositions. Wendy, an accomplished cellist and singer, has maintained parallel interests in both traditional music and jazz since graduating from the Royal Scottish Academy Of Music And Drama in 1983; she's guested on numerous recordings, including acclaimed albums by Andy Shanks & Jim Russell, Mairi MacInnes, Savourna Stevenson and Angus Lyon, and has also worked with Lester Simpson among many others. On A Breath On The Cold Glass, inevitably, the mellow beauty of the cello's distinctive tone is the dominant element, and, equally inevitably, that instrument's appeal (or not) to your own taste is likely to be central to your appreciation of this finely considered album. Having said that, there's still enough textural variety to satisfy the non-cello-addict, with accompaniment from piano, pipes, trumpet, cittern/bouzouki and percussion at various points courtesy of Stevie Lawrence, Brian McAlpine, Ken Campbell and Bill Martin. Wendy demonstrates that the cello can excel at other moods than the usual associative mournful and autumnal, with spikily robust playing on John Anderson, My Jo for example, and suitably sleazy and seductive bowing on the Ballachulish Tango. My favourite tracks here make up a set at the centre of the CD - Wendy's version of Michael Marra's Happed In Mist, the ensuing lullaby and jig (even though the cello itself seems a mite backwardly-balanced on the latter), a fine version of The Great Silkie and the curious Moleskin Joe which combines arco and pizzicato techniques to entrancing effect. But there's not a single less than inviting track here, and the whole album is a persuasive advocate for the continuing place of the cello in this repertoire.
David Kidman
Carl Weathersby - In The House (Crosscut Records)
Chicago bluesman Weathersby unveils his special talent on this, the fifth in a series of In The House albums recorded at the Lucerne Blues Festival. He opens with Leap Of Faith which is a classic R&B/Soul song with blues guitar thrown in. His smokey voice puts you at ease straightaway, readily accepted by the enthusiastic crowd and he is seriously good. He then goes into a slow version of Marvin Gaye's What's Going On which then merges into Love Lead Us Home. This has crisp guitar and the mid-song solo is sheer class.
As a former rhythm guitarist for Albert King you would expect Weathersby to have learned a bit from the master and on If That Ain't The Blues you can hear that he listened very well. The upfront guitar style is very reminiscent of King's and the solo is top notch again. There's Chicago blues on Keep Your Hands Off My Baby and Billy Branch joins Weathersby on harmonica. They've played together for 17 years and the understanding between the two is apparent from the start of this rocking blues. Hobo Blues has a shuffling beat with Branch again on harmonica and Otis Clay adding his not inconsiderable vocals to this soulful rendition of a classic song.
Angel Of Mercy is a powerful urban blues and is a highlight with second guitarist Paul Hendricks getting his chance to shine. There's an almost seamless transfer into Can't You See What You're Doing To Me? This is sophisticated in the extreme. During the song Carl asks if he's doing alright although there was no real need to ask as he burns up the fretboard on the first of two Albert King tracks. The second of these is Night Stomp and it's even more powerful than the earlier Angel Of Mercy. Both guitarists excel here. The final track, Looking Out My Window is played very much in the style of Jimi Hendrix (in fact, Weathersby has been known to walk amongst the audience playing the guitar behind his head). The only thing that I can say about the guitar playing is that it's stunning. If the rest of the In The House series is as good as this then we're all in for a treat.
David Blue
The follow up to Stories Under Nails, and the Minneapolis singer-songwriter's first for his new label, doesn't much mess with the established blueprint of laments of loss and loneliness, etched over threadbare melodies picked out on scratchy acoustic guitar and minimal piano notes, sung in a baritone cross between Waits (this time it's Plastic Bag that sounds like a Small Change tune), Earle and, on Whatever You Want To Haunt Young, a touch of Cohen.
He gets into fuzzy swamp blues with Geisha, but otherwise the tempo rarely lifts throughout, matching the dark moods of his songs. Numbers about lovers with 'abattoir eyes' (Like A Vine After The Sun), the gnawing emptiness of broken relationships (Down 25, Black On Black, Surrealism + Blues), self-loathing (Frankie), and the destructive legacy of George Bush (The Unelected) don't make for soothing lullabies, but if you want to curl up with misery Weaver makes for excellent company.
Mike Davies May 2007
Ben Weaver -Stories Under Nails (Fargo)
Mike Davies
No relation to the Webb Brothers, twentysomething siblings Charley and Hattie have been playing since they were youngsters, starting out on piano and harp, giving recitals as teenagers, churning out folk, jazz and The Carpenters for the likes of, well, the Queen. Somewhere along the line they also obviously found a stash of Fleetwood Mac and Corrs albums and thought they could do that. Thus, having spent some time soaking up the obligatory California sun, they recorded their self-released debut album, Piece of Mind, which they proceeded to sell at gigs.
Six years later, a major label deal in their handbags, they're back for this collection of pleasant soft rock and harmonies. Boomerang suggests it might be advisable to steer clear of trying to be bluesy in future and Everything Changes sees them straining a little beyond their register for the big choruses, but anyone with a fondness for the sounds of 80s West Coast will surely fall in love with the Rumours echoing I Still Hear It, Torches and the folksier flavours of Momentary and Turn The Lights On with their cascading harps, songs destined to be fuelling California teenage dramas for years to come.
Mike Davies, July 2006
The newest disc from one of the finest singing partnerships in the land is truly well named, for it epitomises the concept of unity in all senses, notably the spirit of togetherness: generally in terms of strength of voice and song, sentiment and purpose, and specifically in terms of the duo themselves and their select supporting (and supportive) cast. When that cast comprises the first-rate voices of Johnny Collins, Sue Brown, Ian Giles and Lorraine Irwing, you know this disc will be a very special experience, just like an evening at your favourite folk club in the company of friends. (All you miss is the assembled voices of your good companions - but you can always sing along!) As studio recordings go, this is as good and close as you'll get, with the voices and their distinctive timbres captured absolutely faithfully; engineer Martin Atkinson gives just the right degree of bloom and definition to the individual voices and combined forces alike, with each strand of the texture, harmony or unison, clearly audible. And no instruments to distract - it's all in glorious acappella!
All of the above attributes are used to best advantage on an excellent-as-ever (and typically enterprising) choice of songs. Some of these, have taken a time to unearth, whereas others have been more readily available within the repertoire (though it's taken Dave and Anni a while to get round to recording Johnny Handle's powerful Guard Your Man Weel and Davy Steele's tremendously poignant Last Trip Home, although both songs have for some time formed highlights of the Webber & Fentiman live sets). Even the most familiar item on the menu, Whittingham Fair (one of the many variants of Scarborough Fair) comes up fresh in Dave & Anni's perfectly paced version which gives the song back its due gravitas, while their succinct retelling of Lord Randal (Wild, Wild Berries) is also persuasively handled.
Sadly the disc contains no new songs from Dave's own pen, although the superb opening track, John Alderslade's lovely setting of Alfred Williams' The Reaper, almost sounds like it might have come from that source (that's meant as a compliment!). By a strange coincidence, two of the songs on Unity have appeared on other CDs I've recently reviewed. John Beavis's New Road (for me) improves on Martyn Wyndham-Read's version, possibly by virtue of its using a more natural rhythm that's not constrained by instrumental backing. And the delectable Fisher Lad Of Whitby, which uses not Barbara Berry's tune but one of Anni's; here we're reminded anew of what a fabulous solo singer Anni is too (although the pindrop atmospherics of that song are mildly compromised by some minor inconsistencies - in the aural presentation rather than in Anni's singing itself I hasten to add, which is peerless). The CD's sequence is superbly managed too, with variety and textural contrast aplenty; it's amazing what can be achieved with a thoughtful approach to the presentation of acappella singing. Elsewhere, the gorgeous Lonesome Dove rings the changes by using just the female voices in counterpoint, whereas 'Arry, 'Arry is a spirited music-hall party-piece from Dave and his "gentleman's chorus" (fair suits 'im dahn to the grahnd, that one!).
The disc ends on a suitably rousing note of unity with John Warner's Bring Out The Banners (though the very final cadence, where one voice seems to stray momentarily from the accepted line, took me by surprise). Lovers of fine singing and fine songs will definitely want this CD; and then again, I'd vouch that anyone not already familiar with Dave and Anni will want to see them perform live as soon as practicable after hearing this CD.
www.oldandnewtradition.com/daveandanni
David Kidman, November 2006
Aficionados of the folk scene will easily take it as given that any Webber & Fentiman album will be brimfull of good solid singing of real character, providing a rich-toned and enriching experience for the listener. And there might this review end. My duty, however, is to inform all readers, some of whom might still be unaware of the abundant talents of this fine duo. Well if you've not heard Dave and Anni, then you've never lived, I say. Theirs is truly life-affirming music - grand songs, many coming complete with grand choruses just made for singing along. A better demonstration of the sheer power of song you'll be unlikely to find, in fact.
So what does this new CD contain? - well, it's been a long time in the making, due to the couple's busy schedule, thus it's no surprise that quite a number of the songs here have been part of their live repertoire for a while now. So now they're well and truly "sung-in", but the familiarity still doesn't breed contempt, as there's a perennial freshness in the couple's delivery that will inspire and delight in equal measure. As regards the actual songs, well, the mixture is much as before in terms of proportional representation. There's two more Kipling/Bellamy offerings (Dutch In The Medway, My Boy Jack), and one C. Fox Smith setting (Race Of Long Ago, aka The Robin Adair). These prove good company for a recent Dave Webber song, A New Season's Love, which, though (unusually) it was written "to order" at a festival workshop, turns out a worthy successor to earlier classics such as Bonnet And Shawl. There's also Dave's idiomatic setting of Housman's Is Me Team A-Ploughing?, while Anni gets to sing three solos this time, two of which together form the album's Tyneside contingent (her celebrated performance of Joe Wilson's Gyetside Lass, sitting well alongside Derwentwater's Farewell). There's a varied quartet of traditional songs, which include Catch Me If You Can(learnt from Vic Legg), the spirited "hymn to life" Contentment, and an interestingly driven duet version of the classic Lady Margaret ballad. The ample tracklisting is completed by a miscellany of more recent songs broadly within the tradition. Dave's own admitted self-indulgence is Ewan MacColl's Joy Of Living - a song that's so utterly touching in its emotional impact that it's well nigh impossible for many of us to sing without breaking up or breaking down, and Dave's no exception, his rendition deeply moving due to the innate vulnerability his strong tones here can't avoid displaying. Good, too, to find the songs of the late and much-missed Rod Shearman represented, with the poignant Song Of The Sea (I half expected Here's To Friends to turn up!). Those who like their folksongs hidden behind a tinkly guitar or other chordal accompaniment need to go elsewhere, for this album keeps well "Away From It All" in treating us to nothing but the glorious sound of unaccompanied voices; not just Dave and Anni, but those of Johnny Collins, Joyce and Danny McLeod, Pete & Trish Watkinson, Cathy Barclay, Bob Walser and Julie Young for their superb chorus contributions where needed. Truly a sumptuous release, one to revel in, surpassing even the duo's previous recordings.
www.OldandNewTradition.com
www.freespace.virgin.net/daveandanni.music
David Kidman
His reflective lyrics often sounding more like those of someone three times his age and featuring characters in their autumn years, he sings with conviction and passion. And even if he does sometimes overplay the soaring vocal drama to an extent that you find yourself thinking of Chris De Burgh, he has an engaging voice (not, at times, like an amalgam of Damien Rice and David Gray) and the overall result makes for an impressive debut.
Mike Davies September 2009
Remember Fred? - well most of us do, if only for The Oldest Swinger In Town, never one of my favourites... But Fred's early days, as collected together in this double-disc anthology-reissue of his 60s-to-early-70s output, produced some good examples of the halfway-decent folkie-comedian plying his trade and developing his art. The earliest tracks here, which comprise the set's bonus material, are taken from Fred's 60s Saydisc EPs (I'm not sure whether this includes absolutely everything however): these give us some competent enough trad-arrs alongside an Adge Cutler cover. The bulk of this set comprises the two vintage LPs that Fred released on the tiny independent Village Thing label (yes, the one started by fRoots' Ian Anderson down in Bristol). The first, The Folker, was the then-standard folky-jokery as translated to vinyl, which contained some moments of genuine inspiration (here, The Folker, Fred's own priceless parody of The Boxer, and his mock-educational Lurn Theeself Fawk), which were clearly the high points of his live act, alongside some variable humorous items from the pens of others (here Keith Christmas, Miles Wootton and Dave Turner) and as fillers, adequate-cum-reasonable covers of traditional songs; there's also a spirited (if inevitable) dialect-drenched Cutler (again Wurzel not Ivor!) cover - the latter prominently featuring the Pigsty Hill Light Orchestra. The second of the Wedlock VT LPs, Frollicks, is more inconsistent, but still contains some gems that Fred became famous for bringing into the folk clubs - Stan Crowther's Vicar And The Frog, Keith Christmas' Robin Head and Examinations Rag, and, as a grand finale, an iconoclastic (for then!) Chuck Berry-style thrash through the venerable (even then!) Wild Rover. And of course there's a Talking Folk Club Blues that rambles on more than a bit... Much of this LP was recorded live, and yes, the recording does bring back the halcyon days of the 70s folk club scene - at least the non-serious-trad side of the fence. Fred was always one of the more entertaining of the folk-club comics, and this collection does him no service despite its share of distinctly dated moments. When good, it's fairly side-splitting; when not, it's bordering on the positively embarrassing; but time capsules are invariably of interest when exhumed, and this one is no exception.
David Kidman May 2008
Let's get the bad news out of the way first. When memories still endure of Etta James and Chicken Shack, an uptempo country-soul cover of I'd Rather Go Blind does not work; not even when it has a Willie Nelson phrasing. Okay, now let's get on with the good news. A sweet voiced Southern California singer-songwriter who's been covered and endorsed by Lucinda Williams was once half of Lonesome Strangers, Weeks's third solo album is a solid set of countrified guitar pop full of tumbling hooks, dark hued songs (fuelled by chewing over and adjusting to a broken relationship) and catch in the throat voice that on more than one occasion (most notably Goin' To Heaven where Man on The Moon springs instantly to mind) sounds like early REM.
Joined by musicians and guests that include Tony Gilykson and Lisa Germano, it's clear from things like the summery jangling tumble of Transistor Radio, the walking beat I'll Take My Candy and the bitter mid-tempo Looking For A Good Time that Weeks has a knack for penning catchy radio friendly pop songs. But the musical cooker has other rings burning here too, the choppy soul blues Could've Had It All, a funky good time boogie Fu Manchu and the horn parping lazy jazz lounge soft shoe shuffle If You Don't Take The Medicine, all serving to underline the fact he should be given the support of a label to ensure he's better known than he is.
www.randyweeks.com
www.myspace.com/randyweeks
Mike Davies November 2006
Randy Weeks - Sold Out At The Cinema
Recording with Los Angeles' musician Randy Weeks must be a joy. The question, 'What do you need Randy?' Will surely be answered by 'just a mike and a stool, me and the songs will do the rest'.
Sold Out At The Cinema - which doesn't refer to a cinema at all but a juke joint on Supelveda Boulevard in West LA - has such a natural, uncluttered, unfussy feel to it. It's an album that celebrates the song in all its glory and it's an album that has much to celebrate.
It kicks off with the light and airy Miles Away which is bristling with Crosby/Nash harmonies and that really sets out the album's stall. A good feeling surrounds it like a halo.
However Weeks also manages to inject a little venom, albeit 'sugar coated' by some great country music. Big Man Make The Little Cry may sound as if it escaped through the Carter Family's back door but it has an ironic edge and there is an unmistakably bitter tang to When I Get Over You.
In his own way Weeks delivers dry, cutting lyrics in the same subtlely devastating way as Lou Reed.
If you so wished, you could enjoy Sold Out At The Cinema as nothing more than a very, very good album of modern country/rock songs. But it would be a crime to shut yourself off from the rest of what Randy Weeks has to offer, scratch the surface and you discover that this good ol' boy has sharp teeth.
Michael Mee
A coming together of Boston based Deb Talen and New Yorker Steve Tannen, both singer-songwriters with well received solo albums to their credit, the duo released their collaborative debut Happiness back in 2003. Now, recorded in a Pasadena cottage, they're back with this sophomore collection, a 13 track set of acoustic, folk flavoured pop songs with their musical hearts in the late 60s and their eyes on the ups and downs of love.
To be honest, it's a little difficult to understand quite why this has received such fulsome praise since, while undeniably beguiling and blessed with gorgeous harmonies, the melodies tend to shade into one another and it's not that different from any number of other similarly inclined outfits sticking to much the same blueprint. That said, when it does shine the beams are full of warmth, and you'd have to be especially cold-hearted not to fall under the spell of, say, Living In Twilight, the crystal streams feel of Citywide Rodeo, and Painting By Chagall while the Simon & Garfunkel-like World Spins Madly On was undeniably one of the highlights of recent undervalued but rather lovely Jennifer Aniston film Friends With Money. Pleasant listening but not entirely essential.
Mike Davies, June 2006
Chuck E. Weiss - Old Souls & Wolf Tickets (Rykodisc/Slow River)
It took Tom Waits to drag Chuck E out of ‘retirement’ for 1999’s ‘Extremely Cool’ – which it was. Almost prolific now, ‘Old Souls & Wolf Tickets’ arrives three years later and it sounds like he’s been immersed in New Orleans music for this one. ’Congo Square At Midnight’ roars in with an intro that comes straight out of Dr John’s early period. I checked but the latter isn’t on the record unless, of course, he’s one of the musicians who gets billed as a ‘?’ against the instrument. Hey, ain’t that just Mr Weiss? There are horns and strings on the record that add up to a real gumbo soup of influences. ‘Sweetie-O’ has a swagger that suits a track about a delightful lady that no man can resist.
As well as women, there are cars when ‘Two Tone Car (An Auto-Body Experience)’ arrives with its swinging R’n’B complete with saxophone driving it along at a fair old speed. ‘Anthem For Old Souls’ is written as a lament for lost friends as well as a piece that might get played for living friends at Chuck’s own funeral – ‘I’d stand by their sides if I could’. If you’re not already convinced of this man’s wicked sense of humour, get an earful of ‘Jolie’s Nightmare (Mr House Dick)’. A track that not only rocks but tells the true (?) tale of Al Jolson getting married at 60 to a young girl whose wedding night was a bit of a shock when Al blacked up before slipping between the sheets. ‘Mr House Dick, Mr House Dick’ was the cry for help to the house detective! Yes, Chuck is not a man short on humour or invention and he pulls out music which can rock, be funky, swagger, be slick in a jazzy style and do all those things which say get down the record shop, now.
Steve Henderson
It's almost six years since Soul Journey, and we're starved of any new product from Gillian – so (principally to celebrate a fresh distribution deal with ADA Global for the Welch-Rawlings label Acony) her first three albums have been straightforwardly re-released along with the DVD that was first issued as a companion to album number three but (I guess at least partly due to its being only an experimental and early example of that format) hitherto only available on the international market. As far as the CDs are concerned, nothing's changed in terms of packaging or tracklisting; maybe one or two of the photographic images are sharper but the music doesn't appear to have been remastered anyhow and there's no bonus material to tempt re-purchase if you don't already have the discs in their original incarnation. But those who were late in coming to Gillian's music will find these discs a real revelation; the music is timeless, and starkly individual to boot. It's been described as "old-time rock'n'roll chamber music", and not without justification – raw and intensely haunting, original and uncompromising, independent almost to a fault. Back in 1996, it was real hard to categorise Revival, which alternated incredibly deeply emotional backporch laments with raucous and clunkily primitive neo-rockabilly; presenting a distinctly skewed but proud indie variant of its title, the album contained Gillian's iconic Orphan Girl as well as several other to-be-classics like Paper Wings and Annabelle. It eventually garnered wide acclaim, but not before raising a few hackles - and that similarly back-of-the-neck reaction is one that much of it still physically produces in me to this day. Two years later, the followup Hell Among The Yearlings produced a more polished yet still fiercely independent set with a decidedly dark demeanour (set by the opening murder ballad Caleb Meyer) that contained some of Gillian's most compelling writing ever (My Morphine especially) and set a powerfully bleak tone that remains unsurpassed among the slew of backwoods-gothic releases it inspired. It also finally sealed the benchmark and style of the trusty Welch-Rawlings (Gibson-Epiphone) collaboration. Three years along the line, Time (The Revelator) took a similarly revelatory stance in its adoption of more consciously west-coast rock'n'roll gestures like the expansive title track and a modicum of electrified instrumentation, but Gillian's vision remained bleak; the album included such gems as Elvis Presley Blues, Red Clay Halo and the epic-length closer I Dream A Highway: magic of a very high order indeed. The aforementioned companion DVD, originally released in the US a year later than the CD (in 2002), presented two segments of live concert footage (nine songs in total, including a bonus song filmed at the earlier of the two shows) plus three promo videos (two with alternate-take soundtracks). Shot entirely in verité-style monochrome, it's a fine record altogether, though a couple of inconsequential (though mercifully momentary) filmed insert clips spoil two songs in the second show, which is otherwise notable for containing some especially astonishing soloing from David as well as his lead vocal debut on a Bill Monroe cover – one of a handful of sparkling non-originals that get an airing in these shows including Dylan's Billy and Neil Young's Pocahontas. It still confounds me, though, why the ultra-capable Mr Rawlings, who contributes so much to the whole experience after all, doesn't get a proper billing on the package – for I'd have thought the re-release would've afforded an ideal opportunity to rectify this illogical and unjust omission from the original issue. But the eventual UK release of this DVD, however imperfectly realised, is still ample cause for celebration.
David Kidman June 2009
Gillian Welch - Soul Journey (Acony)
It is, says Welch, the sunniest album she's ever made. Which makes you wonder how she'd define overcast.
Okay, One Little Song is fairly chirpy, a touch of Malvina Reynolds perhaps in there as she sings about "one little piece of cherry pie" and "there's gotta be a song left to sing, 'Cos everybody kinda thought of everything." But otherwise this is mostly the melancholic "gray scale" songs of restless wanderers Welch we've come to love.
Well not quite. Although long time collaborator David Rawlings produces, co-writes and plays on the album, it's the first time they've not featured as a duo. Here the songs feature as either full band arrangements or with Welch totally solo as on One Little Song and the album's two traditional country blues numbers, Make Me A Pallet On Your Floor and I Had A Real Good Mother And Father, the intimacy of their performance possibly reflecting the fact that none of them were ever intended for release.
As for the other tracks, she's joined by Son Volt bassist Jim Boquist, dobro player Greg Leese on Dobro, guitarist Mark Ambrose and Ketch Secor on old-time fiddle with everything else handled by herself and Rawlings. Though One Monkey is surely the bluesiest, funkiest she's ever got and the closing Wrecking Ball brings every one on board for a building jam in the manner of Dylan and the Band, there's no huge musical departures to cause consternation among the faithful. I Made A Lover's Prayer is a simple guitar/harmonica little more love song, Welch's voice double tracked Lowlands a mountain music slow gospel stomp with a tune that calls to mind Janis Joplin's Mercedes Benz, Wayside/Back In Time (disgruntled singer sitting on their hands in Nashville wants to get back out there) is the Band in the backwoods mood and No One Know My Name, a song she describes as the most personal on the album, is pure Oh Brother poor soul but trust in the Lord hayseed revivalist meeting fare. The fuller sound takes a while to get used to - and shouldn't been seen as a statement for future recordings - but it's a grower, Welch's southern melancholy seeping into your pores as effectively as anything she's done. It also features one of the best things she's recorded, the opening Look At Miss Ohio, a Dixiefied weary good girl wants to go bad for a bit, slow swaying round the barroom floor a sad come hither look in her eyes as Welch sings "she's runnin' around with the rag top down. She says 'I wanna do right, but not right now'". Whatever she do, when it comes to the music she makes she's a do right woman.
Mike Davies
Her first release since her contribution to the Oh Brother Where Art Thou? Soundtrack and subsequent spin-off live Ryman show with musical partner David Rawlings (from which I Want to Sing That Rock and Roll is included here) finds them pitching tent on their own label with Rawlings taking over production duties. This DIY retreat from the corporate industry is mirrored in the stripped back approach to their acoustic rekindling of the soul of early Appalachian music and in the album's themes of redemption and remorse. Whether regretting an ended romance on My First Lover or paralleling the fate of the King with that of hammer swinging country boy John Henry on Elvis Presley Blues, it's a melancholic affair, treading through sombre moss hung country blues with Ruination Day Part 2 or wearily warning a potential love that "I'm the pretender and not what I'm supposed to be" on the six minute beguiling Revelator with Rawlings' casually reflective guitar picking. The set ends with the 15 minute I Dream A Highway, a spiritually infused meditation on faded stars, art, death, love and atonement that is so sparse that by the time it ends it's almost not there at all. But like the rest of this disarmingly affecting sepia coloured album it still is, lodged in the ventricles of your soul.
Mike Davies
Sheena's been an ambassador of Scottish song for a long time, and was most recently involved with the Greentrax Celtic Connections Scots Women concert and double CD. Her entertaining and relaxed presentation has ensured her popularity, commendably without compromising artistic quality. Hamely Fare is another such collection, which contains both well-trodden "tourist" songs and some less familiar, more recent compositions. Although I can't carp at Sheena's mature and straightforward renditions of Ae Fond Kiss and Ye Banks And Braes, and she makes a very good job indeed of Parcel O' Rogues and Now Westlin Winds, it's really the more unusual selections which shine for me. Sheena's unaccompanied version of Karine Polwart's Whaur Dae Ye Lie? (a song that's getting rather deservedly popular of late, and has now even been covered by Roy Bailey) is superbly controlled and full of true understanding - indeed, all the unaccompanied tracks prove to be standouts, ranging from a Child ballad (My Son David, which Sheena learnt from the singing of Jeannie Robertson) through to Bonnie Susie Cleland, an outstanding rendition in a comparatively crowded field. And A Man's A Man turns out to be a worthily emotional rendition recorded live at the opening of the Scottish Parliament in 1999. But even so, the rest of the album makes a real virtue of sparseness of arrangement, with minimalist instrumental accompaniment from Ewen Sutherland (guitar), Neil Paterson (whistle) and Pete Clark (fiddle) making an important contribution to just over half of the tracks. This is the kind of CD that ought to be promoted and sold in Scottish Tourist Board and such outlets in place of the tartan'n'haggis pap; real Scottish song sung by a real professional and very accessibly too with no undesirable gimmickry.
David Kidman
The title is double-edged, for it refers not only to the title track, a fine song penned by Ruth herself, but to the duo's status, that of a well-kept secret outside the South Yorkshire folk and acoustic scene. Ruth and Gary have been turning in solid and reliable performances at most of the region's festivals as well as doing a grand job running the weekly folk nights and annual festival at Wath-upon-Dearne, keeping the music very much alive and raising its profile locally. Their own profile as a performing duo has suffered as a result, with few opportunities to branch out and take their music wider afield, which is a shame for they are a talented pair who deserve to be heard. This is their first CD, very obviously in the "home-produced" category though none the worse for that since Gary's own production is good and truthful and the recorded sound is more than respectable. Listening to the CD, it's easy to hear why the duo's live appearances are well regarded, and why a recording has been eagerly awaited hereabouts. Since expectations are high, therefore, and since honesty is my policy as a reviewer, I'm duty bound to remark that the very act of recording, for Ruth and Gary as for all worthy regional performers, has exposed some comparative weaknesses as well as their undoubted strengths. Most of the material Ruth and Gary perform is covers - not necessarily the "usual" ones, for they have keen taste both in listening to and choosing the right kind of material to perform. Having said that, the album opens with Dougie MacLean's Caledonia, which is nowadays rather a folk and acoustic club standard; here there's a chance that, on first hearing at any rate, some listeners might think it's taken at too rushed a tempo, though any initial misgivings are soon swept aside as you admire Ruth's fluent handling of the vocal line, finding just the right degree of expressive nuance in her accomplished phrasing of the melody, superbly mirrored by her rippling guitar figures and Gary's well-moulded and responsive bass lines. The above descriptive phrases typify the duo's approach, which basically varies little from song to song; nothing wrong with that, for in the majority of cases it works very well, especially so on pieces like Richard Thompson's Strange Affair, and taken on a song-by-song basis is extremely effective. Andy Barnes' The Last Leviathan is another example where a swifter pace actually works for the song rather than against it (oh too often we hear such dreadfully dirgey and sentimentalised renditions of this one - Ruth's truthful detachment is I feel so much more appropriate). Ruth's own compositions, of which there are only three here among the album's fourteen tracks (including one co-written with Tony Dargan), are well crafted and attractively memorable indeed. After the third of these, the album's title track, however, things seem to go downhill just a bit. The duo's laudable decision to record something authored by that redoubtable local humorist George Hill backfires somewhat in their choice of what's probably one of his lesser pieces (if only in the respect that it's a parody rather than an original composition), Bolton To Bristol, which is only intermittently successful. There's another (apparent) engineering glitch, where Coal Not Dole fades in and out disconcertingly. The reverb on Green Grow The Rashes-O only serves to emphasise a strident flatness in Ruth's reading. And finally I'd question the inclusion of a spot-the-difference "remix" of Dominoes Falling as the album's "finisher", which feels suspiciously as though they couldn't make up their mind which version to include! For the record, I think I marginally prefer the second, which prompts me to conclude that "all's wells that ends wells"…!
David Kidman
OK, the metaphor appropriate here is the PGA Senior's Tour: a bunch of seasoned pros, associated with the greats of their generation, get together to demonstrate their still appreciable talent and all that's missing is the power and pizazz of youth that would enable them to compete in the open market. Bill Wence played professionally with Bobby Bare and Tom T Hall, amongst others, for many years before taking up a career in music promotion that continues to this day. He's written his share of country hits, too, and that shows in the neat self-penned songs that make up the majority of the tracks. Maybe it was a case of "Anything Chip Taylor can do...". The music hovers around the country area, with touches of rockabilly and gospel, but the commercial nous is always there: these are hummable songs, nothing experimental or deep, and there's a light wash of that uniquely American sentimentality over the whole thing.
The band of old pals are really good, still playing with a sense of fun after all these years. Everybody knows their job and contributes to the whole without hogging the limelight, and that includes Bill Wence himself on keyboards. I have to say, though, I particularly enjoyed listening to Byrd Burton on guitar and Doyle Grisham on steel, masters both. Sadly, Bill's singing voice isn't really up to carrying the album; it's forced tone might remind you of Mike Nesmith or maybe Steve Forbert at best, but really it's just not that strong. In compensation, there's generous use of backing vocals with the Jordanaires bringing their distinctive sound to two songs, and the Sisters Morales, amongst others, brightening the picture on other tracks. Overall, pretty solid country pop for ageing country pop fans.
www.myspace.com/billwencepromotions
John Davy September 2007
This second CD from the Burnley (Lancs.)-based female acapella harmony trio proves to be an attractive - and most attractively-sung - collection of 19 songs, all but one predominantly traditional in origin, expertly arranged to make best use of the Wenches' vocal qualities and their approach to harmony. Janet Lynch, Emma Crickmore and Gin Crewe are all experienced and accomplished performers who've been singing for quite a number of years both in and out of groups and folk clubs; as a trio, they've recently appeared on BBC Radios 2 and 4 as well as on local radio stations in the north-west. They research their material carefully and thoroughly from a variety of sources, and credit for the arrangements of many of the songs goes readily to Janet's husband Lol, who clearly knows the nature and strengths of the lasses' voices very well indeed. The Wenches bring to their material a real zest for performance and an innate talent for communicating the import of a song, whether it be frolicksome or tragic, insouciant or thoughtful, lovelorn or caustic. To be fair, the full infectiousness and delicious humour of their live act just cannot be captured on CD, but Twelve Men And No More comes so much closer to bringing you the true Wench All experience than its predecessor Ne'er A Penny O' Money (reviewed in Stirrings 115) - which at least set out their stall but, though typically well sung, felt distinctly mild, even muted in its impact. This new offering has plenty of presence, with a very good inter-voice balance wherein the blend, and the qualities of the Wenches' individual voices, are well brought out, with the lasses' excellent diction allowing every word to ring out loud and clear. The sequencing of songs is effective too, the whole enterprise intelligently bookended by a brace of counting songs, mowing songs in fact, which the Wenches had unearthed (sorry!) on their researches. And, aside from one moment of pensive repose provided by the one contemporary song here, Kath Reade's beautiful portrait of The Stone Circle, the Wenches' journey then takes us pell-mell through love and lust, life and death, with several songs representing specific customs or traditions (Pace Egging, Wassail, Maypole), placed gleefully alongside rural toasts and broadside tales - sometimes, it must be admitted, almost without giving the listener (let alone the singers) chance to catch breath! For that latter reason alone (and this is but a minor criticism in the context of the product as a whole) some listeners may find it difficult to play through all 19 tracks in one sitting, while others more instrumentally-inclined may yearn for an occasional non-vocal timbre within the texture - but I'd stress that ain't a problem for me in the slightest, for I love acapella and I love the Wenches' inimitable sound! In this instance, the enthusiastic performances, together with the excellence of the recording and some well-presented and informative booklet notes, prove the best possible advocates for the chosen songs, many of which incidentally are not well known even within the more specialist confines of the trad-folk scene (and that gives the Wenches another brownie-point in my book!).
David Kidman July 2006
This 2CD pack is a celebration of The Wentus Blues Band's 20th anniversary and they managed to get some stellar guests to come along and help them celebrate. The album is also the soundtrack to the DVD of the same name, giving it a feeling of The Last Waltz. The Wentus Blues Band is a Finnish outfit with an international outlook. Proceedings begin with a short acoustic introduction, Going To The Show, before they are off into the electric boogie of Moonshine. They are a big family and have many guests but this is one of their own songs played just by themselves with strong guitar from Niko Riippa & Kim Wikman and Juha Kinaret's vocal hits the mark. Pekka Grohn provides excellent backing on organ. Deadric Malone's You Gonna Make Me Cry is slow and soulful with a mourning voice. It builds superbly and certifies the bands credentials. There is a snappy BB King style guitar on Since I Been Loving You and this is overlain with a powerful vocal. It also sees the first guest star, Sven Zetterburg, on guitar. Kim Wilson joins Zetterburg and the band for Little Walters I Got To Go. As expected, this is a harmonica blues which is fast paced and well received. Zetterburg leaves but Wilson stays on for Passenger Blues, which is a grinding, churning blues with Wilson's harp a wailing. Pick Up The Pieces has Eddie Kirkland joining the family and he provides some silky guitar. The vocal interchange between him and Kinaret is top drawer. Zetterburg is almost becoming an extra band member as he joins the band and Kirkland on this Kirkland original. Lonesome Fugitive is an acoustic country blues performed by Lazy Lester and Angel Blues is a slow electric blues with Omar Kent Dykes. He has such a lived in voice and even manages to get his guitar sounding like a helicopter at one point. This is a strong performance overall. Stop Twistin' My Arm is a big production R&B and the high energy will get to you. Barrence Whitfield screeches it out, especially at the end and Clas Yngstrom adds some telling guitar. The Stones' Can't You Hear Me Knocking gives sax player Tore Berglund a chance to excel and he grabs his chance on this soulful instrumental. He is followed by Grohn on keyboards and guitar - all excellent soloists. It's appropriate that the guitarist is none other than Mick Taylor - who else to get to play a Rolling Stones song!
The second CD opens with I Heard The Angels Singing, which is an acoustic led, gentle paced swinger with spiritual overtones. The guest on this one is Eric Bibb and his soul is all over the track. Down The Line has the band playing on their own again and they deliver a grungy R&B with high energy and impact. Looking For Trouble is a Kim Wilson song and he returns to play harmonica on this standard shuffling blues. Hold That Note has searing guitar from Clas Yngstrom, as you would expect. This is a bouncy blues with a good sentiment to the lyric. It goes to show that you can do as much with one note than 10 times as many. Annie-Lee is a slow Chicago blues with powerful vocal performances from Whitfield and Kinaret. Blind Willie McTell has an explanation of the song before it gets played. It is different from the Dylan original and it is beefed up by Taylor. I like this! Backroom Delta is, as the title suggests, a Delta blues. This is good fun, especially at the end, as Louisiana Red and Niko Riippa try to outdo each other. Louisiana Red stays on for Ride On Red and gets the audience going with its funky style. Jagger & Richards' Ventilator Blues is a plodding, grinding blues on a topic that can't be classed as pleasant. Mick Taylor guests again and performs it very well. Raining In My Heart is a strolling Kansas City style harmonica blues with Lazy Lester on harp. The closing song, Biscuit Roller is a bouncy R&B with organist Grohn back on good form again. There's a smokey lead vocal from Barrence Whitfield with screaming backing vocals and more guitar interceptions from Yngstrom. The last track, Outro – Great Final is one minute of soft acoustic led, Celtic style music - point? This is a celebration of a band that has stayed together for twenty years and on this evidence, there's another twenty yet to come.
David Kidman April 2008
Jeff's one of those wonderful "characters" much admired in traditional singing circles; for his whole life (up to his recent retirement) he's been a farmer at Whittlebury near Towcester, Northamptonshire, and with his wife Sylvia he's been a mainstay of the local folk club as well as running the popular Song & Ale singing weekends on the farm itself. Considering the esteem in which his singing is held, it's a shame that the only previous recording of his singing (a Veteran cassette) has been deleted (although a few tracks from it have surfaced on Veteran compilations since). However, this new CD, recorded at a special evening down in WildGoose territory in deepest Hampshire last autumn, should please Jeff's many admirers and make his singing available to a wider audience at long last. It presents 17 songs from Jeff's extensive repertoire, all done in the attractively flowing, relaxed, measured style that has become his hallmark (especially in latter years). Several of the songs have been collected by Jeff himself - which in itself is remarkable given the general dearth of known indigenous Northamptonshire songs - and these include The Ballad Of Boughton Fair and The Charwelton Murder, interesting enough songs with a local connection but perhaps not especially memorable in nature (even though Jeff himself has "created" tunes for some of them!); still, it's good to have these preserved on record. More rewarding, I think, are Jeff's lovely renditions of more well-known fare like Apron Strings, Turtle Dove (these two in creatively portmanteau versions) and The Tarry Sailor. Jeff also tackles (and well too) a couple of classic ballads (Young And Growing and The Unquiet Grave), and turns in a typically passionately-felt performance of local songwriter Alan Burbidge's piquantly nostalgic Empty Echoes (the subject - the impact of modern ploughing methods - being, naturally, close to Jeff's heart). I also liked Jeff's way with the delectable "parochial" fun of Couldn't Help It ("that's quality", Jeff impishly remarks!) and Last New Year's Day (learnt from George Fradley), while the disc's title track is one of the most successful of the "chorus" songs (which account for just under half of the total number); even so, it's the non-chorus songs which show Jeff's distinctive style to its best advantage. Then again, the presence of an audience and its chorus singing is no handicap - just the reverse, for the whole CD has all the convivial atmosphere of a "real" folk club, with committed chorus participation, and it's a very enjoyable experience. A worthy project indeed - and let's hope it's but the first of a whole series.
www.umbermusic.co.uk/S&Aprojects
David Kidman
You'll hear Bacharach and David colours here and there as well as nods to the fresh faced days of The Beatles, although the jaunty vaudeville Top Of The Bottom and the 'perky' AOR of Sleepy People might also find you thinking Gilbert O'Sullivan.
The End sees him getting upbeat with shades of 80s New Wave Costello stapled to alt country guitar rock, Sick Organism is a stabbing cockney pop slice of Squeeze and Wild Boy sees the album off in a sort of 70s sax, keyboards and guitar jazzy jam session, but the default mode is the dreamily melodic laid back approach of things like Daylight Ghosts and the country twang tinged Your Mind's Playing Tricks On You. The voice throughout is effortlessly graceful.
The strongest suit though are Harding's lyrics. Writing books has clearly sharpened his turn of phrase and narrative acumen, so that My Favourite Angel finds God lamenting his love for Lucifer, Top Of The Bottom offers a self-deprecating faux career overview and music biz critique and Sleepy People is a riposte to drowsers everywhere. Not an obvious album but its charms blossom with repeat listenings and, if you have a place in your heart for Imperial Bedroom or Woodface, then this will sit happily alongside. A welcome return, let's hope he doesn't have another novel in him for a while.
A special edition release also comes with bonus live disc Don't Look Back Now on which, recorded last year at Brooklyn's Union Hall with a band that includes David Lloyd on mandolin, features 11 old favourites (plus a then preview of The Top Of The Bottom), among them The Devil In Me, Kiss Me Miss Liberty, Window Seat, and a duet with Josh Ritter on Our Lady of the Highways.
www.myspace.com/wesleystace
www.johnwesleyharding.com
Mike Davies July 2009
John Wesley Harding - It Happened One Night/It Never Happened At All (Appleseed Recordings)
If you're going to take your stage name after a Dylan song you'd better be good, thick skinned or hope your audience understands irony. Wesley Stace aka John Wesley Harding certainly qualifies for the first of those criteria. If Billy Bragg reflects and stays true to his east end roots, then John Wesley Harding is the musical conscience of the Home Counties. Cultured, polite but ultimately with the same acid pen and tongue as the Bard of Barking.
This 2 CD set is neatly split into two distinct records, It Happened One Night not surprisingly is a live recording while It Never Happened At All is what Harding describes as an 'alternative debut CD'.
On both, Harding shows he's more than a musician, he's a raconteur set to music, an old fashioned satirist and humourist and a teller of truths. In this instance music is the means but his songs would be just as powerful spoken or written down. John Wesley Harding is a chronicler of the foibles and frailties, the triumphs and tragedies that colour all our lives.
On the live CD he is quite clearly enjoying himself in his natural element. The intimacy of guitar and voice draws his audience to him like students eager to learn. For Harding's part he is obviously happy just to have brought his tales to town, in this case The Wheelhouse Club, Chiswick in 1988, and found an audience ready to give him a fair hearing.
As well as being an astute observer, he is also a brave one, few would dare to tamper with the 'Global Jukebox' in the way he does on July 13th 1985. His take on Live Aid is both hilarious and affectionate, a lesser talent would be dead in the water yet Harding carries it off with great style and wit. On It Happened One Night John Wesley Harding presents his music in its purest and simplest form, music as honestly written and passionately performed as this would find embellishment an unwanted intrusion. Just a word of warning. Due to a microphone fault, Every Sunrise Is Another Sunset and Three Legged Man sound like the kind of recording you'd do surreptitiously, with the microphone up your jumper. Buy all they do is drive the live experience home even deeper.
As you would expect the 'studio' element makes It Never Happened At All a quite different prospect. Even the songs that appear on both bear little relation to each other.
In parts, It Never Happened At All has a much fuller, more commercial sound. It's easy to see with Love's Sacrifice why Harding made such an impression in the US, opening for Springsteen on the Ghost Of Tom Joad tour in 1995 ( The Boss's first opening act since 1978). And while, at times, it strays perilously close to college rock, Harding's lyrical suppleness keeps the album razor sharp. It is no surprise to learn that he studied English Literature at Cambridge.
While the studio may have 'rounded' some of the edges of Harding's music, it also allows him the room to explore and exploit the beauty of Roy Orbison Knows, the strains of Crying floating somewhere in the distance give it a haunting quality.
The real clue to It Never Happened At All being a debut (of sorts) is its scattergun approach to styles. Harding dips his toe into just about every genre you could think of, even a little gentle rockabilly with Browning Road. The boy from Hastings becomes the man from Houston.
Listening to both albums you can easily understand why he's mentioned in the same breath as Elvis Costello and Bragg, but Lovers Society hovers on the same cusp of pop/rock and has the same whimsical way with words as the Kinks at their dandyish best. But then Scared Of Guns has the is tempered with the harsh awareness of Tom Robinson at his most irate. Harding follows the timeline of great UK singer songwriters as faithfully as a man following a thread out of a maze.
With these two albums he shows himself to be a musician for all seasons. Rocker, poet, punk, popster or folkie it all comes as one. But the sum of these parts is something unique.
Michael Mee
If, like myself, you've not heard the Californian's two previous albums, it apparently makes no difference since her third marks a change of style from country-bluegrass to a more acoustic jazz-folk, West Coast soul feel while Pollen even partakes of a cocktail of trad folk and fiery Spanish flamenco.
Recorded at a lake shore studio in Canada, the landscape feeds into the album's relaxed atmosphere and sense of space through which her smoked honey voice - a grained crossweave of Margo Timmins and Natalie Merchant with notes of Tracy Chapman and just a tinge of early Joni - flows with fluid purity.
As the rippling Lily Ann shows, her Appalachian bluegrass affections haven't been entirely snubbed but it's the folkier end of the Americana spectrum that holds sway, splendidly so on numbers such as the title track's song of endurance, the upright bass accompanied slow waltzing travelling soul's lament The Stranger and the many walked roads and turning of the year meditation on life that is Turn The Wheel.
Whether dealing direct as on Whisky Poet or trading in the imagery and symbolism of the sultry folk blues Lady Luck and the 60s baroque folk pop ballad The River's Fool (where she sounds a little like Judy Henske, she writes insightfully and resonantly about matters of the heart, soul and existence. And, with tasteful guitar work from co-producer Doug Cox, as a languid, bone-weary cover of Everybody's Talkin' that conjures smoke curling rainy dawns and slow lapping streams, shows, she has an inspired ear when it comes to interpreting others experiences of the world too.
www.myspace.com/corinnewest
www.corinnewest.com
Mike Davies August 2009
Falling somewhere between bluegrass and folk, she is an artist who uses her excellent vocals and star-laden band to great effect; it's striking that despite having Jerry Douglas, Darol Anger, Tony Furtado and Mike Marshall making up most of her band, the disc is all about her voice and the songs, rather than an exercise in the virtuosity of the assembled musicians. In fact it's a surprisingly quiet and understated, and this gives her distinctly sweet and clear vocals the chance to shine through and for the stories in the lyrics to be heard - there are plenty of places where the assembled cast get chance to show of their skills, but it's all in context and in the appropriate place.
The 11 tracks are a mixture of up-tempo pieces and slower ballads, but the constants throughout are West's evocative vocals and the quality of her lyrics which tell their stories in both a direct and poetic way - there are some memorable and thought-provoking songs here; standout tracks include 'Hand Full of Gold', 'Roses to Rust', and the excellent 'Cabin Door'.
The production from Marshall is excellent, and the whole disc is really understated and perhaps harks back to a simpler style of American music where the vocals and words were the driving force, and for being brave and eschewing the current trends for overblown production this disc deserves to be heard.
There aren't many artists working in this style, but the thoughtful stylings of folk mixing with bluegrass give it Appalachian feel, but that's not quite the right description as it a distinct and unique atmosphere - labels aside this is a fresh sounding disc, full of strong, moving songs and put together by some of the finest musicians you could wish to hear.
www.myspace.com/corinnewest
www.corinnewest.com
www.fishrecords.co.uk/reviews/secondsight.htm
Neil Pearson, Fish Records, October 2007
www.fishrecords.co.uk
Fish Records are suppliers of singer/songwriter, folk & acoustic music - based in Shrewsbury, England
Corinne West - Bound For The Living (Make Records MRC 747)
Steve Henderson
Joe West - The Human Cannonball (Frogville FVR 0035)
Hooray, a new Joe West album to brighten the days as Summer comes to an end. Joe's music is country based rock, sometimes jaunty, sometimes driving, sometimes mournful - but always full of warmth and wit. Unafraid of obvious jokes, of retreading his own material or of pastiching better known artists, he gets away with all these things by being way smarter than the average; his sly knowingness keeps you grinning all the way through. So here we are again with a new collection of oddballs, ordinary Joe heroes and lovers who never hang around. I honestly don't know what to make of his cultural references sometimes, I mean, what would you make of a song about "Jimmy Joe the wrangler, The Phillipino queen" ?' (who, incidentally, tries to get a drink in an Oklahoma bar, gets set upon by a bunch of rednecks, but pulls a gun and leaves them all dead in a Peckinpah shoot-out).
I'm not sure I want to know what the "string cheese show" that crops up in another song is all about,but the idea makes me laugh anyway. Possibly the shortest protest song ever, the "Talking Terror Yodel" clocks in at 43 seconds and makes the point that violence will always beget violence. Probably my favourite of the bunch is "Jam bands in Colorado". Joe's got quite a thing about the unglamorous parts of the States, and here he debunks the notion that Colorado is all about "John Denver and Rocky Mountain High" -----the Colorado he found is a "Suburban Bacchanalia!", well into it's micro-brewed beer.
It's all familiar and deeply lovable Joe West stuff though I have to admit to a nagging feeling that it all sounds a little reined-in compared to the gleeful, full-on sound of "Jaime Was A Boozer" and "South Dakota Hair-Do".It's a minor quibble, though, because Human Cannonball has all the things that make Joe West so good; he's going to be playing in this country in the autumn, and there's nothing I'm looking forward to more.
John Davey
From the unbelievably good Frogville label in New Mexico comes the unbelievably good Joe West; watch out for this man, he's going to be over in the UK later this year and people are going to latch onto him pretty quick.
South Dakota Hair-Do picks up where Jamie Was A Boozer, the previous album, left off and brings us a blindingly assured collection of songs, not a weak link in the chain from Track 1 to Track 12. Musically, I guess he's in the roots rock/Americana zone, playing with such zip and flair on the faster tracks, and such lightness and dexterity on the slower tracks that endlessly repeated listenings fail to weary this reviewer's ear. Reports have it that his band, The Sinners, have fallen by the wayside and the new album on it's way will be a more intimate sound; well I heard a few live tracks recently with The Sinners recorded for an American radio station and I'm sad to have missed the chance of ever seeing them on stage. Still, that's life.Lyrically, Joe West brings you slice of life songs that manage to be detached and amused, and yet at the same time deeply sympathetic about the trials and tribulations of ordinary lives - falling in and out of love, falling foul of the law or the bottle, struggling to get by and to find meaning in life. Mostly, he's just wickedly funny - witty and very intelligent. Even when he's serious, he's funny.
After a brief intro with spoken lyric we're bowled into the glorious swinging rock of the title track, the South Dakota Hair-Do being the haircut they give you in jail. This is right up there with any "Best Opening Track" you can think of for the joy of the song itself and the knowledge that you'll now happily stay with all that follows. We get songs about (apparently) Joe's own chaotic love-life and what seem to be observations about the lives and loves of those around him; he hops around from one style to another, and varies the pace very satisfyingly. When he does a fine Lou Reed pastiche on "Frank's Jealous", it is in no way irritating as a pale imitation but rather deeply enjoyable - realised with such ease and grace that you know this man could turn his hand to most anything.
And now I'm lost for words, I can only urge you to chase this album down, fall in love with it, and then get your local venue to book him.
John Davey
Musically, this release is probably a bit of a departure from what we'd normally expect to hear from Appleseed, yet artistically it's actually very typical in that it presents a distinctive and original talent. One of those where you may not like everything you hear but you can't deny you're in the presence of something quite special, a lady purveying her defiantly individual take on the world. Lizzie's described as a Brooklyn-based cross-country gypsy influenced by beat and naturalist writers and poets, and she travels almost constantly. She started performing her music at subway stops and street corners, and it's a wonder that she can ever be in one place long enough to get down to recording an album - however, Allegiance is her second (her first, Holy Road: Freedom Songs, was reissued by Warner three years ago, but I've not heard it). It's a heady parade of eloquently upfront and strikingly performed personal and philosophical experiences and views, which are set to ballsy arrangements which are informed by anything from folk, roots and contemporary Americana and gospel to hip-hop, jazz and reggae. Lizzie's backed throughout by musical collaborator and boyfriend Anthony Kieraldo (aka The White Buffalo), who also co-produced the album, and there's a few more occasional contributors on things like bass, percussion and extra vocals. And speaking of vocals, here comes the health warning: it's this aspect of Lizzie's work, rather than her songwriting, which is likely to cause the most serious division among listeners. Her singing style is, at its most extreme (and I'm not being unkind, merely factual) best described as possessing a kind of bleating, wavery vibrato that can verge on the unlistenable. For me, it's the more overtly folky tracks that work best, where the simple arrangements work really well and Lizzie's voice is at its least warbly: Portrait Of An Artist As A Young Woman, 19 Miles To Baghdad and Brooklyn Bound are particularly strong cuts, while I also liked the programmed-scratch-beat treatment of God Damn That Man, and Lizzie's eminently tasty "enhanced cover" of Bob Marley's Get Up, Stand Up (creatively extended by a poem of her own) contains some extraordinary, ecstatic ululations alongside her "normal" singing technique. I Can See The Mountains From Here works better because the cool jazz-organ arrangement complements the vocal line. But generally as the album wore on, I found myself increasingly intolerant of Lizzie's singing (though the waveriness is more noticeable on some songs than others, perhaps a reflection of the album being recorded at different periods over the past three years?), finding it rather difficult to concentrate on the content of otherwise very attractive songs like Of Course My Love and Reaching For Light and losing patience rather with her rendition of Steve Goodman's City Of New Orleans. Conclusion: the best of this CD is very good indeed, and I like over half of it a lot, but with much of the remainder I suspect you'll need to try before you buy, to see how you get on with Lizzie's singing!
www.lizziewestlife.com
www.appleseedrec.com
David Kidman, June 2006
Eric Westbury - Burnt Tongues & Blue Truths (Barreltown)
A new name to me, Westbury may be based in Calgary but he's got a soul connection right to the heart of Austin. His debut album, Walking Tracks, fell into the hands of Texas producer Gulf Morlix who was so impressed he offered to twiddle the knobs for the second as well as contribute guitar.
With four re-recorded tracks from the debut and seven new numbers, the result should go quite some way to establishing Westbury among the forefront of current Americana. Aside from being the only person I know to play a five string guitar left handed and upside down, he's got a smoky gravel gruff prowl of a voice (down to a partially paralysed vocal chord apparently) that variously evokes Tom Waits, a seedy barfly Steve Forbert, and Steve Earle at his more reflective while his songs hover around characters fighting alcoholism, depression and social injustice, not necessarily with much success but with, as he puts it on One Million Shovels, grit and gristle.
There's a bluesy Nick Cave moodiness to the stalking Hooves and Horns with its grim vision of a world gone to the devil, a burning earth atmosphere that recurs on Tanks with its hints of Cohen on a lyric about not seeing the problems around us. But he can take a swipe at the establishment and people's refusal to get involved in other musical frames too, the soulful twangy country of the magnificent title track where he advises you can't fight battles while hiding in the shadows or the jaunty rock along self-explanatory titled Knockin' The Big Man Down.
Melancholy infuses many a track; the regrets of a man whose dreams faded with his jeans on Usual Everything, a character who, like the old man of Walking Tracks, looks to the bottle to numb the pain. And on the simple acoustic Churchill's Black Dog he's created a brilliant image for the personal demons that seek you out. Yet there's hope in there too; on Next Showing of the Big Picture with its subtle theme of reincarnation and getting it right next or the time and on Nickajack Cave, dedicated to Johnny Cash, where he retreats inside himself, goes cold turkey on guilt and doubt and emerges into the daylight to move on with head up. Westbury may speak in burned tongues, but his truths are never forked.
Mike Davies
Paul Westerberg - Folker (Vagrant)
Recorded in a lo fi mindset in his basement, the former Replacement's latest outing isn't, despite what the title might suggest, some makeover as a folk artist, though there's clearly those influences filtering through into his rock n roll roots. It's something of a mixed result really, the bittersweet rumination on his relationship with his late father on Dad suffering from the song's rather plodding pop chug, As Far As I Know is tumbling 60s power pop by numbers and Breathe Some New Life borders on the painfully unlistenable. On the plus side though, Looking Up In Heaven is a gorgeous slice of Brill building pop that conjures thoughts of Aztec Camera while the country colours of What About Mine?, the hangdog 23 Years Ago and a Parsons-like $100 Groom all serve reminder of why he remains something of a legend. And if you yearn for those jangling glory days of the vintage Replacement years, then just set Gun Shy on repeat play and swoon.
Mike Davies
But if there's an air of weariness to the material, both in the material and the weathered and worn delivery (compare A Decent Man with the studio version), it doesn't dull the quality of the performances, simple (mostly) one man and a guitar recordings culled (complete with compere intros) from intimate live shows and radio sessions across America and Canada including Nashville's legendary Bluebird Cafe.
There's also two new studio tracks, recorded in free time during his travels, opening fairground waltzer The Dancing Around and a tremendous coal-dust throat cover of Townes Van Zandt's Marie. Of the live numbers, none of the songs have appeared on previous live albums and include Phil Ochs' No More Songs alongside self-penned flawless diamonds like She Is Still My Weakness, It Will End In Tears, I Fall Behind and, a personal favourite, My Heart Stopped Today. Taken from a session for LA's KCSN 88.5FM, the latter's a fuller sound and features backing vocals from co-writer Dalgleish who provides the album's previously unreleased bonus track with her own spine-tingling solo piano live performance of the wistfully regretful Cosmic Fireworks, a song from King's days fronting The Good Sons and the title of their best of compilation. Now buy this, and help grease the financial wheels to record those new albums.
www.michaelwestonking.com
www.myspace.com/michaelwestonking
Mike Davies May 2009
After the live and rarities compilation Absent Friends and his recent covers collection, finally comes the long awaited follow up to A Decent Man, a collection of new material that, with musicians that include Mike Cosgrave, Kevin Forster, partner Lou Dalgleish and long time collaborator Jackie Leven, sees King stepping further away from the Americana veined sound that's long distinguished his work as both solo artist and leader of The Good Sons, and entering the rarefied field of classic singer-songwriters.
He's not wholly forgotten and forsaken his roots mind you, as the Texicali n Cajun rocking n rolling Let The Waves Break Around Your Face with its hints of Los Lobos or the Gram-like My Heart Stopped Today where he's joined by Chris Hillman and Herb Pedersen so readily bear witness.
But listen to the opening, piano cascading Here's The Plan with its swelling chorus, the hymnal piano ballad The Last Hurrah, This Man Can Break So Easily with the shifting time signatures of a Broadway tune, brass flourished troubadour lament swayer Rosenkrantz and Kristian's Gate (I'm Dead) or the poignant domestic abuse regrets big building closer It Will End In Tears, and you'll hear a musician who's risen above pigeonholing genres to produce an album categorised only by its sheer class.
Be warned though, as you might guess from the title lyrically it's a bit of a downer with songs talking of loss, isolation, broken marriages, self-recriminations and, on the simple waltzing From Out Of The Blues, a collaboration with Ron Sexsmith and Don Kerr, a quietly crushing song about the parents of a murdered girl and her killer.
Appropriate then that the album's sole cover should be a harmonium and French horn arrangement of Gilbert O'Sullivan's hymn to sadness and loss, a song that both echoes the emptiness that informs King's own songs and, in the final verse, serves as tribute to his late mother. It's a perfect grace note to arguably the finest album of his career to date.
www.michaelwestonking.com
www.myspace.com/michaelwestonking
Mike Davies January 2007
Michael Weston King - Absent Friends (MWK)
Only available at gigs and on-line this is a live/rarities collection from the Birmingham based Americana singer-songwriter and former Good Sons frontman. Containing 12 live cuts and two studio recordings, four previously unreleased songs among them, it opens with the all new ghostly ballad I Fall Behind, a song that you'd be forgiven for mistaking for a previously undiscovered Springsteen classic and which alone would be worth the price of the album.
The second studio track is actually the Good Sons' swansong, a countrified version of Undertones hit Teenage Kicks, while of the other new material Only Seven Days harks to shades of Neil Young and, recorded in Denmark, Reserved For Me And You sees Mike and other half Lou Dalgleish kicking up the honky tonk sawdust with a perfect Gram and Emmylou.
Elsewhere there's live takes of his backwoods southern gothic Townes Van Zandt tribute Lay Me Down, a Mother Tongue recorded at Glastonbury, a rousing Celestial City, a tenderly weary cover of Tim Hardin's Black Sheep Boy that segues into his own Tim Hardin '65, An Englishman's Obsession With America #2 featuring Jackie Leven and, dedicated to everyone who loved Aztec Camera, an acoustic version of the wistful Angels In The End. The sound quality can be a bit ragged, but what the hell nothing can diminish the sound of sheer brilliance.
Mike Davies
I must declare a bit of an interest here, in that over the past few years, I've followed and supported York-based Emily and Ben quite closely as they've been steadily and reliably learning their craft and building up a strong following in the folk clubs of Yorkshire. A well-deserved booking at this year's Bedworth Folk Festival should ensure that their talents are brought to the attention of a rather larger audience, and wide distribution of this CD, their début duo recording, ought to do them similar favours. Laudably, Ben and Emily have waited until ready before committing themselves to record, and this very sensible and thoughtful approach to their art is a reflection of the stylishness and commitment which are hallmarks of their interpretations of songs both traditional and contemporary. It's probably fair to say that the former comprise the bedrock of their repertoire, and this CD mirrors this, with just two contemporary compositions (Paul Weller's English Rose and Billy Bragg's Between The Wars - a choice entirely typical of the duo's enterprising and open-minded outlook) which complement the traditional material extremely well. Ben and Emily's performances display an attractive virtuosity, yet theirs is not a dazzling exhibition of note-intensive instrumental prowess, rather a quiet virtuosity evident in the skill and intelligence of their simple yet effective musical arrangements, which are mostly centred on Ben's meaningfully deft, understated yet flexible guitar work which provides the ideal foil for Emily's vocals, not driven by pure technique but by the needs of the song. Emily has a distinctive singing style; her delivery is assured - solid and sturdy and quite hard-toned, yet with an appealing plaintiveness that almost always manages to enable just the right degree of emotional expression. (And her fine unaccompanied version of Black Dog And Sheep Crook is even better live!) The duo's sense of pacing is equally assured, and it's a tribute to their thoughtful and considered approach to their chosen material that none of their interpretations ever feels rushed or constrained. Also to their credit, Emily and Ben don't try to impose their own personalities artificially on the songs, yet they still demonstrate an individuality in approach and purpose that provides a distinctive stamp on the material; in a nutshell, they obviously really care about the songs, and are sufficiently respectful to carefully acknowledge their sources too in the liner notes. Instrumentally, there's a limited (though welcome) additional variety in texture when Emily picks up a whistle or fiddle, as on a handful of the tracks; her nascent fiddle style is improving all the time, though at the time of this recording was not fully formed. Ben can sing a bit too, although here he confines himself to some barely-audible harmonies on the final track (Adieu To Old England, the only cut not to entirely convince me for some reason I can't quite fathom yet). A sympathetic production by Alistair Russell at his own studio is the icing on this sparsely decorated but appetising cake.
David Kidman
Bill and Dave are without doubt Lincolnshire's most persuasive advocates for the traditional heartwarming folk club experience, a fact that is now at last being recognised more widely by audiences up and down the land. They possess a truly distinctive (yet wholly unpretentious) performance style with an unmistakable sound, and have an unerring ear for a good song, whether it be traditional in origin or newly or freshly composed. Having said that, the proportion of traditional songs has been decreasing exponentially over the course of their recording career, from nine out of seventeen on their first album (1996's Their Fine Array) down to none at all on this, album number five. This shift is undoubtedly in recognition of the enormous amount of quality songwriting within the folk scene, much of which inexplicably remains unrecognised outside of key connoisseurs of song like Martyn Wyndham-Read, Bram Taylor and the late John Wright - to whose illustrious names we must add Bill and Dave! (And it's probably significant that Martyn has recently recorded a song by Eric Payne, writer of Acorn To Oak's title track.)
For Bill and Dave are performers who truly enjoy singing, were born to sing, and communicate their love of the singing and the songs in everything they sing. And so Acorn To Oak presents us with a further 17 carefully-chosen songs that metaphorically plant the seeds for a blossoming appreciation of their writers' talents. Some of these writers have been represented on previous Whaley & Fletcher CDs (Phil Colclough and Iris De Ment on Old Men And Love Songs; Stan Graham, Bob Watson, Lawrence Dean and the Wright & Anderson team on Fit For Reclining), and for sure, there's always been quite a sense of "plenty more where these came from" about Bill and Dave's "discoveries" – and indeed, a sense of consistency of quality and a stylistic unity (most of these songs being written in a sympathetically traditional idiom). This latter observation may for some prove a sticking point, for on this latest occasion I don't feel the standout tracks stand out exactly, or as much – if you see what I mean. This may be partly because the disc's sequence doesn't seem quite ideal – for example, End Of The Day (an uncharacteristic but well-considered excursion into acappella delivery) would have been better exchanged with The Bard in order to form a suitably reflective call-to-arms finale for the disc. And it's an unusual phenomenon, but I find that if I adhere strictly to the programmed sequence of the CD, it takes until track 4 for any individual song to make a significant impact – simply because the first three tracks (and tracks 2 and 3 in particular) are very similar in terms of mood and key. However, another factor in the disc's uniformity is of course a huge positive: this is the tried-and-tested Whaley & Fletcher sound, constructed of those solid building blocks comprising rich and deeply satisfying concertina tones of varying hues, superb lead vocal work and well-moulded harmonies. No need to tamper with such a winning approach, I say – and so album five is much like album four in this respect, all those elements proudly and firmly in place but with a little judicious overdubbing of additional instrumental lines (less obtrusively than on previous occasions), these principally emanating from Bill's "new toy", his custom-built midi-concertina which here emulates banjo as well as organ timbres.
With regard to the actual songs, as is always the case I have definite personal favourites; this time George Papavgeris's brilliantly affirmational The Miracle Of Life, along with Dave Fletcher's own composition Sing For Me (the latter is the CD's Kleenex track for me, corresponding to Fit For Reclining's Beyond The Distant Hills and Crossing Over). And other songs that invoked a deep response in me were Stan Graham's poignant reflection Time Like The Tides; the lovingly depicted The Brambley Lane by the late Brian Ingham; and certainly two out of the three by Steve Thomason. And the pair of excellent songs by Phil Colclough and Toby Wilson, which seem to inspire Dave to give his greatest vocal performances here, exhibiting an extra degree of fire and florid passion. All told, no Whaley & Fletcher fan will be disappointed with Acorn And Oak, I'm sure; yet (and no criticism is intended here), I do find that for much of the time (and definitely more so than with its predecessors) the songs that make up this new disc may need to take their time to germinate, grow and be appreciated - rather in the manner of the naturally lengthy lifespan of that tree's growth. Oh, and I'd also like to record my strongest agreement with the sentiments expressed by the writers of the eloquent and affectionate liner notes, for clearly they fully understand exactly what Bill and Dave are all about.
David Kidman July 2008
Considered by many to be Lincolnshire's finest folksters, Bill and Dave have now achieved a healthy level of recognition for their characterful music-making by dint of several years' worth of excellent live performances (at folk festivals and clubs) and three solid CDs. They love the songs they sing, wholeheartedly, and their honest expression of that love is passionate and paramount, as anyone who's heard them will attest. Quite simply, they're among the most persuasive of present-day advocates for the traditional-style folk experience. Having said that, although their styling is very much traditional they're tending to perform markedly fewer exclusively traditional songs as time progresses, basically in recognition of the increasing number of exceptional songs being composed "in the tradition" by latter-day or contemporary songwriters (in this respect they take a large leaf out of the "gospel according to Martyn Wyndham-Read"!). They almost always seem to make a beeline for songs that suit their performing style down to the ground, and they've got great taste (and they must be right, 'cos an uncanny proportion of those songs appear in my own repertoire too!).
So it goes, then, on this, album number four, which as far as material goes is right up there with its predecessors in the excellence stakes. In many ways it's the mixture as before (no complaints there!), with further grand examples from Dave Evardson (The North Wall), Bill Meek & John Conolly (One More Before We Go) and Graeme Miles (The Drift From The Land, Westerdale) alongside Mick Ryan's Prince Of Peace and Love Is Life, Dave Webber's Parting Song and the traditional Downhills Of Life and If I Were A Blackbird. I'm also pleased to hear them tackle one of Stan Graham's songs (Days Like These), though in this case their brisk tempo took some getting used to at first. And of course there are some real discoveries here too - like Bob Watson's Autumn Song and the lovely Sophie Wright & John Anderson composition Quiet Waters. But the showstopper for me is the duo's imaginative and oh so poignant pairing of Beth Nielsen Chapman's brief I Find Your Love with the Lowen/Navarro song Crossing Over, sung with acute feeling for Dave's late and much-lamented wife Maggie and described as "an affirmation so beautiful, powerful and so personal that it almost defies comment" - I'd term it a multiplex-Kleenex model that puts the Victorian "tearjerker" Your Faithful Sailor-Boy (the foregoing track) firmly in the shade! But in truth, any one of the sixteen songs here could've been tailor-made for Bill & Dave to sing...
Here too, the duo's performance of their chosen material is exactly what I've come to expect - Dave's superbly strong and tuneful singing (they don't call him "GoldenGob" for nothing!) so very ably and aptly accompanied (that bland word hides so much artistry doesn't it?!) by Bill's vocal harmonies and his subtly expert concertina (or, on Westerdale, accordion) work. Not just any old concertina either, but those of the English, duet and bass persuasions - and now, since its tentative outings on album three, a little more of a role for the innovative "midi" concertina, which has the ability to reproduce all manner of instrumental timbres from church organ down to banjo (though not on this CD, for Bill must continue resisting, as he does now, any temptation to go overboard in experimenting or showing off!). Personally, I'd say that the unadulterated, unfettered sound of Bill and Dave on their own in full flight is absolutely glorious, and abundantly rich enough without any need for thickening of texture by further augmentation or enhancement; which is why I have reservations about their decision to bring in Chris Harvey Pollington for keyboard parts on three of the songs; his rippling, tinkling piano tone gives an unfortunate and not entirely apposite whiff of "parlour song" to the fine compositions being performed, I feel. And I'm not entirely convinced either by the extra instrumental lines (midi?) that Bill employs for the final two verses of The North Wall, which to my mind dilute (by sweetening) the impact of the lyric; or by the addition of a slightly distracting whistle counterpoint to the existing vocal and instrumental lines on a couple of other tracks. But these are minor matters, which should not deter lovers of fine songs well sung from buying this CD, whose focus is as much on the actual songs as on the perennially attractive performances. The unique "Whaley & Fletcher Experience" survives intact for this CD's heavenly length - so you can either "fitfully recline" in front of your speakers without a trace of guilt, or else go see them perform live: either way, an unforgettable experience is guaranteed.
David Kidman, July 2006
Over the past half-dozen years or so, Bill and Dave have gradually built a solid reputation on the wider folk circuit (ie outside their native Lincolnshire), yet somehow remain ensconced within the province of aficionados of fine songs and fine singing - this despite their gaining a higher profile through appearing on Martyn Wyndham-Read's prestigious Song Links project last year. Encountering Bill and Dave in live performance, you could imagine no better advertisement for the classic folk club experience or a more immediately captivating and convincing illustration of the vibrancy and longevity of the continuing folk tradition; In fact, I bet you'll wonder why on earth you'd not come across them before, just as I did! The hallmarks of the duo's style are an unbridled joy in singing (and encouraging their listeners to join in with gusto!) and a total and unflinching commitment to the songs they sing. The intriguing paradox is that due to their characteristically solid and utterly honest approach to this material they're often thought of as "traditional" performers, yet less than half of that material is strictly traditional in origin. Never mind that some of the songs have often been mistaken for traditional (Harvey Andrews' English Ale, Bob Dylan's Lay Down Your Weary Tune); they joyfully tackle compositions by Lincolnshire writers Tom Lane and (albeit from the opposite end of the county to themselves!) John Conolly and Dave Evardson alongside Ian Tupling's anthemic Come The Days and Dave's own competition award-winning Follow The Drum. The premise is always that a good song is a good song whatever its provenance. Here, as on the duo's two previous CDs, what comes over straightaway is the melodious strength of the individual and combined voices, and how distinctively well-matched this is by the accompanying panoply of concertinas (English, duet, bass and now midi too!), melodeon and harmonium. Just occasionally the incorporation of an additional (whistle) line in the instrumental texture is a mite distracting, otherwise the arrangements are admirably simple and positive. If you enjoy strong folk singing with plenty of character, I guarantee you'll not be disappointed.
David Kidman
Ever since Whapweasel's fourth singularly stimulating record (2005's Pack Of Jokers), the mighty beast has mutated some: a fiddle player has come and gone, and now (by the time it comes round to recording again) the original twin-melodeon line concept has returned (now in the shape of Saul Rose and Simon Care) while the brass section has been beefed up by adding a trombone (Joe Fowler). But lawdy, tho' this potentially unwieldy now-decet might invite a close head-count comparison with Bellowhead, it leaves the Whappers sounding more like dance-hall rude-boys than Weimar theatre-cabaret (but rumour has it they're now whapidly sneaking a few songs into their live sets!). Whatever, there's still no other English ceilidh band quite like Whapweasel, not least since their music can equally engage the feet (body) and the ears (mind). With a thrusting tightness of attack that's almost obscene (careful with that axe now, Rick!), they weave their magic carpet in bright primary colours (flying it defiantly in the face of the minimalist grey tone of the digipack), displaying a bewildering ability to change gear and ring the changes almost capriciously yet entirely logically within the space of one composition. And refreshingly, their propensity for surprising and delighting their audience (and, one suspects, themselves too!) still comes entirely without any sense of trendy impression-making or point-scoring contrivance. Their cleverly constructed tunes (all penned from within the group, and suitably pithily-titled) sound traditional but they're worldly-wise: sucked in and spat out, hoovering up the tiger moths as well as the dog in a brilliant production by the good Mr. Kemp himself that sweeps all before it. Typically, the title track's deceptively jaunty squeezebox outing gets cranked up some notches with brass cross-rhythms and chiming Afro-guitar; Brighton's funky, snarling jazz-skank riff is overlaid with syncopated minor-key morris; Moustache finally succumbs to the lummy temptation of the Stackridge yomp; Ticket carries the nutty-boys one step beyond sheer madness; Bus transports its ska with a floaty prog guitar solo; Sunday steams in on a grinding soul stomp; Vodka distils 50%-proof dub without unduly "Russian" it; while Mayday is a cool, jangly pastoral interlude. The good ol' Whaps are still as sparky, cosmopolitan and invigorating as ever.
David Kidman October 2008
Whapweasel - Pack Of Jokers (Whapweasel)
With all the brouhaha surrounding this outfit over the past couple of years, steadily building up to them most deservedly winning the Radio 2 Folk Award for Best Dance Band back in February of this year, I suppose I'd have to grudgingly admit that I'd been expecting something even more groundbreaking and brilliant than the mighty Relentless, but in that respect - and that respect only - I feel ever so mildly let down. But in absolutely every other sense this is a cracker of a record. I've had it on constant repeat play in the car and slipped the clutch more than a few times trying to avoid losing touch with the rhythms!
All the definitive Whapweasel elements are present and very much correct, but there are always those extra little details that creep out of the weaselwork to surprise and delight you on successive plays. This feature naturally stems from their recent branching out from their "super-ceilidh-band" role into a parallel concert act of equal super-ness, wowing all and sundry wherever they appear (and even inspiring a devoted legion of younger fans along the way that's almost unheard of in a band consisting mainly of shall we say relative elders!). They seem to be cornering the market with their seemingly effortlessly high-powered, seriously eclectic, ultra-energetic, supremely inventive arrangements of their own original dance tunes of all shapes and sizes; quite simply, there's no other band that's doing what Whapweasel is at the moment, nor could you imagine anyone doing it better. Honest! For the Weasely Ones have made giant strides over the years - you might say that from starting out humbly as Blame The Dog they've since "hoovered up" the opposition and cleaned up on the dance circuit!
The now familiar eight-piece lineup of Relentless - melodeon, cittern, two saxes, keyboards, guitar, bass and drumkit – breeds no contempt, but rather deep respect for spiritful grooves that this time round exceed even the "madness" of that celebrated disc. Madness is an operative word too, for there's lots more of the Nutty Boys about the assorted card-carrying weaselling to be found in the Pack Of Jokers (and not only in the context of the zany cover photo-poses!), alongside the highly addictive and often insidiously catchy trickiness of the tune-melodies (and yes, there's melody aplenty in there cheek-by-jowl with the rhythmic impetus). The sure hand of Rick Kemp is felt not just in the upfront and suitably detailed production but in his relatively new-found status as a fully-fledged band member, with some rocking yet brilliantly understated electric guitar work. And I can't praise the tight and unerringly idiomatic contributions of every last too-numerous-to-name member of the band, who exercise restraint, observe niceties of balance and create some tempting nuances of light and shade just where the ebb and flow of the music seems to demand it (sections of the CD's title track are a delicious case in point).
It's good too that the contributions of the citterns and mandolin are mixed in proper perspective, as in lesser hands they might all too easily be submerged in the ruder and altogether noisier tones of the brass, melodeons and keyboards. Pedalo and Polka Dynamo both contain sparkling examples of the excellent balance that's achieved between instrumental elements. Perhaps the replica-scratching that surfaces at times during Hanging On The Edge seems a needless concession to trendy gimmickry, but everything else on the disc gels perfectly. Intelligent ceilidh dance music for our age that's boppable and listenable - what more could you ask for?
David Kidman
Erica Wheeler - Almost Like Tonight (Live) (Blue Pie Music)
Erica's been touted as 'the next Mary Chapin Carpenter', tho' I'm not sure this tag is much help in assessing her contribution to latter-day singer-songwriterdom, at least having heard Almost Like Tonight. This, Erica's third CD release (though there were two previous tapes), comes after a five-year silence as far as recordings goes, and has been produced in response to the punters who've approached her at the merch table after a gig and asked "which one is most like tonight?"; now they can be told triumphantly, "this one!"… Hmm, a sensible gambit, and probably a good way to get to know Erica's repertoire as a whole instead of just approaching her act through her own songs. Not that there's any deficiency in that department, for Erica writes about the common human experience with finely detailed language in an imaginative combination of grace and verité depth. She takes us on a ride through life and loves, travelling out on the open roads, musically inhabiting the new-country/alt. bluegrass/small-town folk landscape. Her innate wistfulness is tempered with an engaging sense of humour and a true desire to communicate with her audience - as this collection of live recordings demonstrates. Perhaps the editing process has made the sequential pacing of the set just a little breathless, as you don't quite get sufficient space between songs and moods and the changes between them, the essential recovery and adjustment time that you'd get on a studio album (even though Erica's intros have been left in), but that's not as big a drawback as it sounds and by and large this is an accurate and representative tour through Erica's world. Interestingly, the departure point for her travels is the James McMurtry song Angeline; the other non-originals are Van Morrison's Crazy Love, Claudia Schmidt's Quiet Hills and a short throwaway fun-singalong piece by Mark Graham. Among Erica's own compositions, alongside a good selection of songs drawn from both of her studio albums, are two concert favourites that she's never gotten round to releasing commercially up till now and a fine recentish (well, 1998) studio recording of Quiet Night, a song from one of Erica's pre-CD cassette albums, with Larry Campbell on second guitar. That final item apart, the bulk of the performances on this CD are taken from a gig in Florida last February, with a small handful of excerpts from other shows, but there's also a couple of radio session tracks and a radio interview segment that culminates in a live take of Spirit Lake. But, good though this live CD is, I still harbour the sneaking suspicion that for the moment I'd probably get a better measure of Erica's actual writing (as opposed to her personality) by going back to those studio albums, for some of the songs seem a little pale to stand up sufficiently well to make a strong enough impression with such a close and sparse solo treatment - and I'm not sure why that is, even after quite a few plays.
David Kidman
It's been a while since this young south-Dublin (Tallaght)-born tin-whistle virtuoso's scintillating eponymous debut CD, which when I finally got round to hearing (and reviewing) it earlier this year I somehow got confused and erroneously labelled his second (for which I must now make an apology). But it was probably an easy mistake to make, for such, no doubt, was the level of expertise and maturity in his playing even then - and Gavin's still only 27! Anyway, there's cause for celebration now, for here's Gavin's true second CD, which is at one and the same time a continuation of the first and a major leap forward. In the first sense, Another Time delivers another excellently-chosen and well-presented sequence of not just reels but jigs, hornpipes, highlands and slow airs too: a truly rounded selection that demonstrates both the enormous breadth of the "bottomless pit" of available material and Gavin's expertise in arranging and playing in a healthy variety of moods and tempos (something which many listeners persist in believing the humble tin-whistle incapable of!). And in the second sense, Another Time takes Gavin's skills into another dimension of expertise as not only does he play even more breathtakingly than before and is showcased in at times arguably more ambitious settings (which, however, proudly retain the traditional session feel that marked the first album) but also he gets to play the uilleann pipes (hurrah!), even if only on one track!
Now the sprightly opening set of reels certainly has the "more of the same but even better" feel about it, as it's very similar in style and execution to comparable tracks on Gavin's first album. Nothing at all wrong with that of course. But it's one of the many delights of Gavin's playing, that he can make "just another set of reels" sound completely fresh, as he proves with his unhurried yet still joyous tempo for the Mountain Lark/Paddy Killoran's/Hut On Statten Island set (track 3). Once again, as the album progresses, I'm marvelling afresh on each track at Gavin's supreme dexterity, his exemplary breath control, his clean and precise intonation that never sacrifices musicality at any cost, and that delicious sense of joy in his playing that bounces back and forth between Gavin and his fellow musicians. A good example of the latter trait is the energetic hornpipe The Hunt (track 9), where the interplay with fiddler Finbarr and bouzoukist Eoín is a constant delight. For once again Gavin's surrounded himself with a tight little pool of brilliant young players, all but one of whom (keyboardist Peter Eades) had already lent such a distinctive sound to Gavin's first album: the roster comprises Donnchadh Moynihan and Gavin Ralston (guitars), Eoín O'Neil (bouzouki), Colm Murphy (bodhrán), Zoë Conway (fiddle), Finbarr Naughton (mandolin, fiddle) and Aoghàn Lynch (concertina). Zoë's wonderfully spirited duet with Gavin's pipes on the Paddy Mills/Connacht Heifers set (track 8) is tremendous, and a definite highlight of the whole album. But I also really liked Gavin's way with the slow airs, particularly his heartfelt rendition of The Yellow Bittern (definitely not a case of twice shy there!). Gavin also rings the changes from his largely traditional approach to the tunes with a couple of unexpectedly syncopated arrangements which work very well - like the hornpipe set at track 12. This is another really exhilarating, enjoyable and repeatable release from Gavin, beautifully recorded to boot, one that restores the good name of traditional Irish instrumental music to those who may have given it up after years of tediously flashy sessioner-products. I've only one complaint (and that a very minor one) - the text of Gavin's excellent booklet notes (where he's admirably meticulous in crediting his sources) is virtually unreadable in the middle panel of the three (insufficient contrast with the white print on beige background!). Otherwise, this finely-presented package is a real credit to Gavin - as is his superb website...
David Kidman
Incredibly, it's three years almost to the very month since I reviewed this sublime mother-and-daughter duo's long-awaited first album together; that eponymous release was an entirely unpretentious collection of favourite (largely contemporary) songs which showcased their uncanny empathy, one that transcends even the closeness in which the family connection inevitably rejoices. So for album number two, why go break with a winning formula? And they don't, for Too Few Songs is a further collection of "songs they love to sing" given a wholly tasteful, minimal acoustic backing (just their own guitars in the main) which allows the full glories of those two gorgeous voices to come through in the service of the songs. Immaculate renditions these may be, but there's no shortchange in terms of expressiveness: it's luxurious, but with an edge that their spontaneity of response to the lyrics brings and retains. As far as lead vocals are concerned, duties are shared equitably, the exact choice always carefully judged and yes, right. As Kellie herself has observed, their two voices, though easily distinguishable from one another when singing solo, harmonise in such a way that when singing together it's strangely difficult at times to identify which is which.
The songs themselves are drawn from all manner of quality contemporary songwriters from the fields of folk, country and Americana. High points for me this time are their wholly natural renditions of the David Francey song Greenfields, Mike Silver's Let It Be So, Lucinda Williams' Love Is An Abandoned Car, Jim Malcolm's Neptune, Richard Thompson's Persuasion, the Robin & Linda Williams classic Don't Let Me Come Home A Stranger – and the fairly showstopping acappella Baking Bread (a Michael Kennedy song that was new to me): quality songs by quality writers all the way. Oh, and things come full circle with Paul Metsers' Play It All Again – for a much younger Chris and Kellie's father Joe both sang harmony vocals on Paul's own original recording of the song well over 20 years ago! But none of their choices show the ladies at less than their best. Part of the credit for this must go to the album's producer Julie Matthews - if she doesn't have an unrivalled insight into how the Whiles do and should sound, then nobody does! Too Few Songs is a special and quietly classy set, but its title does incorporate more than a grain of truth: eleven songs and 41 minutes does leave that phrase frustratingly ringing in the ears, even though you can (and most probably will) easily decide to play it all over again.
David Kidman July 2007
www.kelliewhile.co.uk
www.whileandmatthews.co.uk
David Kidman
Having released both solo album and a collaboration with daughter Kellie, While returns to her long running musical partnership with Matthews for an overdue collection of new material, their first since the acoustic Here & Now three years ago.
By now it's a given that the duo are the country's answer to the McGarrigles, that their songs drip with melody, the sing glorious harmonies and write moving lyrics that cut to the personal and political heart. Although a rather uninspired rocky Shame lets the side down a bit, there's no change here, Matthews providing the bulk of the material, with While contributing two numbers and two collaborations making up the dozen.
The co-written title track sets things in motion, a mini soap opera pitch of folk that share a four storey building but never each other's lives, then Matthews takes up the baton for a Welcome To Your Life's celebration of a new baby. If I'm honest, it's not a particularly strong number, the lyrics following the old 'wonder what the future holds' route, but she invests it with a tender emotion that eases the cliches. Rather better, and at the other end of the age scale, is Take These Bones, a piano based almost Carole King sounding ballad (with choir) inspired by the stories of the Comfort Women, the girls and young women pressed into prostitution for the military by the Japanese government in WWII.
While's first song is A Simple Twist of Fate, a bittersweet tale of relationship wrecked on the rocks of a casual pick up in a bar and a car crash, while her second visits Old Morocco for a jaunty banjo plucked snapshot of a 12 year old and his sister trying to earn a dirham or two. Children loom large, and there's another dancing through Matthews' Little Man Jake, a song of childhood innocence that suggests she might one day do a kids' album of lullabies.
I have to say, I prefer her when there's more bite in the heart and voice, as on Single Act of Kindness, a touching tribute to those who stretched out their hands to help in the aftermath of Hurricane Katrina or on The Sum If What I Am, a stripped down piano and guitar song taken from the Radio 2 Radio Ballads where she and While trade vocals on a song inspired by the testimonies of the HIV positive.
That same naked emotion quivers too through the equally spare Blue Old Saturday Night where While takes heartaching lead on her partner's song of an abused wife, easily, along with Take These Bones, one of the album's glowing highlights and likely to prove equally so live as they hit the road promoting it through October and November.
Mike Davies September 2008
Chris is undoubtedly one of the top female singers in the UK, so rated by audiences and fellow-performers alike, and she recently enjoyed copious accolades when she took on Sandy Denny's role in Fairport's Cropredy revisit of Liege And Lief. Although Chris has been inordinately busy since leaving the Albion Band in 1997 (mostly in her ever-flourishing touring partnership with Julie Matthews, also latterly with daughter Kellie) and constantly in demand, it's still unbelievable that Rosella Red is Chris's first solo project in ten years.
She's come a long way since In The Big Room (fine collection though that was): her voice has developed and matured even since those days, of course, but also in that no fewer than eight of the ten songs on this latest offering are Chris's own compositions. (Now I wouldn't wish to undersell those, but the two non-originals are surely among the album's standout tracks: the hauntingly evocative Pennyweight Hill by Australian songwriter Michael Kennedy, and a stunning rendition of Joni Mitchell's Both Sides, Now to close the disc).
The selection of Chris's own songs presented here really does capture the impressive breadth of her artistic creativity both as songwriter and as singer. There's a real poetry in her imagery: the album's title is a depiction of the glow of the Australian landscape, taken from the love-song Safe In Your Arms, while on Falling Ashes Chris memorably chronicles the industrial decline and subsequent rebirth of her home-town (Barrow-in-Furness). The purposely enigmatic When I Watch You Sleep has a cheeky country feel, while Dark Blue Eyes is a love-song-cum-tribute to the very special bond that Chris has with Kellie (who repays the compliment by contributing some lovely backing vocals over the course of the CD). Another standout song, The Promise, is a heartfelt cri-de-cœur that forms Chris's personal take on the current environmental crisis and contains some simple yet harrowing images. The latter song is a perfect calling-card for the album too, for it contains the defining sound of a significant part of it: that of a string quartet blending and weaving with the generous but simple acoustic traceries of guitars and soft percussion. Which leads me to mention that maestro Joe Broughton is responsible for those beautiful and sensitive arrangements (remember, he'd previously collaborated with Chris on her contribution to the Rubber Folk album, Nowhere Man) and plays violin, mandolin and guitar throughout the disc. Other musicians involved here include bassist Neil Fairclough and percussionists Gerry Conway and Tom Chapman, who together provide sufficiently light textures that set Chris's gorgeous voice in due relief. Nicely complementary cover art too, by the way (designed by Swarb's wife Jill). Yes, Rosella Red forms another satisfying chapter in Chris's illustrious career.
David Kidman October 2007
If this ain't a "does what it sez on the tin" job, then I'm Jed Thoroughbudget! It's an hour-long collection - or should I say selection - of 15 of the duo's greatest songs, the criterion being as much their popularity with their live audiences across the globe as they are personal faves of the ladies themselves. I'm not quite sure why the good ladies should just now need to repackage themselves in this way tho', since the hardened Chris'n'Jools fans will already have every CD they've made - but it's a great introduction to the talents of both ladies nevertheless and if it gets folks into their music then no bad thing. It illustrates the breadth and diversity of their writing, certainly, with songs covering anything from love lost and found (Walk The Line) to the decline of the steel industry (Seven Years Of Rust), dealing with cancer (Steady Breathing) and domestic violence (Generation Game). Tracks are taken from just five of the duo's albums: five from Piecework (including the anthemic Every Desert Bears A Seed), three apiece from Perfect Mistake and Quest, two from Here And Now and just one from Higher Potential. The obligatory rarity (ie. the jewel tucked away in the crown of the collection) is a beautiful, simple version of Thorn Upon The Rose taken from the long-out-of-print Ballads EP. Full lyrics are included in the booklet, and the whole CD sounds good as a sequence to listen through in one sitting. Chris and Julie are currently touring to promote this collection; I believe its intention might be to be viewed as a line being drawn under their achievements to date before moving on to a new phase of creativity, but whatever the raison-d'être it's a very fine collection and a great place to start exploring their music, no question.
David Kidman October 2006
Released in 2005 but now getting a second wind, the latest acoustic studio collection from the UK's answer to the folk harmonies of the McGarrigles is something of a reflective mid-life contemplation affair, its songs, whether individually or collaboratively penned, concerned with transitions, either through passing over, the end of relationships or the resolve to make changes.
The latter informs the opening On My Way, a jaunty feelgood strummer about making a late starter's determination to finally go for it while mortality hovers over the sick subject of the tender dulcimer coloured Steady Breathing, So Long Old Pal concerns someone 'saddled up for going home'. Elsewhere Cover Our Eyes speaks for itself with the line "he took the gold ring from his finger, he found a drawer to keep it in".
But, there's resolve and hope here too. The softly cascading title track with its gazouki, high strung guitar and glorious harmonies serves reminder to live the moment rather than dwelling on the past, a sentiment shared by Breathe, one of the album's finest moments, a quietly, near hymnal long night of the soul number about finding the strength to carry on with Matthews's aching vocal accompanied just by minimal guitar.
Then there's Flourish, While's buoyant filigree guitar celebration of the healing, restorative powers of a decent spot of sunshine (be it from nature or love), All Around The World, a touch of soulful gospel urging people get ready for the 'wave of love' that must come soon, and the rousing appreciation of the good things that lift the spirits that is Feel Good List.
But perhaps the backbone of the album, musically and thematically, lies with the marvellous Innocent New Year. With Matthews plucking the banjo and conjuring thoughts of the more backporch flavours of Alison Krauss or some old cowboy song, it recalls the faces of 'friends strong and true" who "have carried me through" and looks to the promise of better days ahead. Owning this album would seem part and parcel of that.
Mike Davies, March 2006
Emotionally it strikes deep. Dedicated to Auntie Alice, Dancing With Angels is a touching, jazzily folk song about approaching death that embraces rather than denies, Shattered a bitter swipe at a legal profession where money is more important than justice and verdicts often create more innocent victims, while The Generation Game draws an all too familiar circle game portrait of domestic abuse. But it's the simple love songs that wound with the most pleasure; the simple guitar, piano, drums arrangement of the close harmony When You Think It's All Over It's Just Begun with its echoes of Love Has No Pride, Chris taking plangent lead on the 'your love's a rock in a messed up world' Broken Wheel and Julie pouring her heart (and gazouki) into the disarmingly simple title track where those McGarrigle comparisons really come into play (as, for the more obscure buffs, so do thoughts of Bonnie Koloc) for what is, without question, one of the best things they've ever recorded. You really should make an effort to see the error of their ways.
Mike Davies
With the release of their last album - the excellent live collection "Stages" - Chris While and Julie Matthews said it was the drawing of a line under that stage of their career. The next stage would see them treading new paths, looking for new inspirations and creating a new soundscape. Well, the arrival of "Quest" is tangible - and audible - proof that those were not hollow words. These 13 tracks, while unmistakably the work of this most talented of female duos, shows the pair stretching out and firming up their songwriting, as well as presenting a fuller, richer sound to the recordings.
A major factor in the latter is, undoubtedly, the drawing into the While and Matthews musical family of Kwame Yeboah. The Ghanaian multi-instrumentalist first came to my notice with last year's re-emergence of good-time fusion band Edward II as E2K and the album "Shift". Another new member of that revamped group is While's daughter, Kellie, and it was through that link that Yeboah came to work with While and Matthews. After meeting him and seeing him play, the pair realised that his was an influence they needed and signed him up for "Quest". And what an influence he's had. As well as leaving his instrumental mark all over the record - he plays on every track - he took on production duties and must take credit for the full, roundedness of the sound. His presence is felt from the first note of the album's first, and title, track as his percussive skills are put to incredible use. Apart from the bodhran (an Irish, hand-held drum) of Aimee Leonard, his is the only backing to the vocals of While and Matthews. As the two women sing of a search for freedom, Yeboah coaxes an incredibly melodic backdrop from his array of skins, blocks and bells.
Track two, "Walk the Line" - the first of two While solo contributions, Matthews has five - gets us back on to more familiar instrumentation with While and Matthews strumming acoustics and Matthews also adding piano, the guitar of Howard Lees and the bass and percussion of Yeboah. Matthews' "Money Money Yeah! Yeah! Yeah!" treads a well-worn path as she notes: "It's an age-old story and that's for sure, when you get a little you want some more." Her vocal is set against a mid-tempo lope featuring trumpet and flute from Neil Yates, harmonica from Rory McLeod, bass, keys and percussion from Yeboah, piano from Steve Brookfield and cash register from an unnamed shop assistant.
"Bruccianni's Café" is a potted history of the music Chris While listened to growing up as she uses a host of soul classics ("Dock of the Bay", "Heard It Through the Grapevine", "In the Midnight Hour" and more) as reference points to tell the story of a favoured teen meeting place. "Blind Faith" uses last winter's floods as a warning against the folly of ignoring offers of help and "Distant As the Poles" is a wonderful song of the love of a parent for their growing child. The album winds up with a two-song note of optimism: "Freedom Song" and "Quest Reprise", the latter heavily featuring Yeboah's piano and some rousing gospel-flavoured vocals. "Quest" is a tremendous album which shows, as they'd promised, a progression in While and Matthews' music - full of memorable tunes, great hooks and lyrics that make you sing along and then think. If you're stuck for a late Christmas gift for a music-lover this is the one to go for.
Fred Hall
THE footsteps Kellie While chose to follow stood out as clear as tyre tracks in the snow. Mum, Chris, has, for a number of years, been the partner-in-crime (and song) of Julie Matthews with whom she's released three albums. Before that she was (again with Matthews) a member of The Albion Band and a solo artist. The possessor of a finely tuned voice, she's passed that quality down to Kellie, the current lead vocalist with the Albions - like mother, like daughter. In fact, While splits her time three ways, for, as well as a now-blossoming solo career and singing with the Albions, she fronts Afro-Anglo-Celtic-folk hybrid E2K, whose album Shift was reviewed in the Croydon Post back in January. Where does she find the time?
Tenacious is her first solo album and it's an impressive introduction to the lady's skills. Of the 11 tracks, she's written or co-written all but three and that trio of covers reflects the diversity she shows in her own writing.. Possibly the bravest is Jimmy Campbell's "In My Room", which she strips back to the barest of bones, singing it unaccompanied and really carrying the sad, reflective song purely on her own vocal ability, getting to its core without being at all maudlin or overwrought. Ron Sexsmith's "Riverbed" is taken at a gentle pace against a backdrop of her own acoustic guitar and some beautifully restrained violin from fellow-Albion Joe Broughton. Julie Matthews, in addition to co-producing and engineering the album, gifted While the title track and it's a wonderfully boisterous rocker in which all the instrumental stops are pulled, with particular mention due to the distinctive smokey slide-guitar of Little Johnny England's PJ Wright and melodeon master Simon Care, of E2K. "Cherry Stone King", the album's fist track was written with Nigel Stonier (whose recent "English Ghosts" album has been criminally overlooked by the record-buying public) and proves a lively opener with a memorable chorus and telling melodeon from Care. While's vocal on "Making a Mess of It" never fails to remind these ears of Eddi Reader, one of this country's most under-rated singer-songwriters. The song is also worthy of note for possibly the first sighting in song of a phrase which has grown in the popular vernacular when she sings: "It's not enough to say it'll all be OK 'cause it might just go pear-shaped." "Man in the Crazy Game" is a slower-paced song on which While's voice is carried along on her own skilfully picked acoustic guitar. Along with the Campbell song, ". . . Crazy Game" best illustrates the depth and feeling she injects into the words, her phrasing emphasising or sitting back whenever the lyric or arrangement requires. There's a broad spectrum of songs and emotions to be had on this record and While ensures that each is given the attention it deserves. She displays a maturity born of many hours on many stages and has given us a debut album of which she - and Mum - can be proud.
Fred Hall
This landmark (yet often overlooked) late-70s art-rock band, which comprised Colin Newman, Bruce Gilbert, Graham Lewis and Robert Grey, may have been short-lived as a unit, but during the course of what's been termed their "accelerated development" between 1976 and 1979 Wire produced three astonishing and seriously challenging albums that have both stood the test of time and proved enormously important and influential. With hindsight, it's perhaps most indicative of that forward-reaching influence that Wire's three albums came out on the Harvest label, which had been an icon for almost all things truly progressive just over a decade previously. The first of the triptych, Pink Flag, is an uneasy alliance, kindof an uncertain compromise between pop and punk that however proves strangely satisfying, although for most of the time it seems to deliberately refuse to hang together as an album. In its continuous 35-minute span it throws into our ears a mixed bag indeed, with half-a-dozen ultra-brief "buzzsaw/oi"-mode angular punk cuts thrusting queasily in between a mod-power-pop gem (Mannequin), gloomier guitar-based indie (Champs) and some more interesting, more extended (well, 3- or 4-minute) nouveau-psych adventures like Strange and the VU-like cataclysmic buildup of the title track. There was more than enough potential in Pink Flag to ensure that its followup, Chairs Missing, would be braver and more successful, but nothing could have prepared us for the iconoclastic originality and diversity of that followup, incorporating a giant leap forward into an ambitious musical palette which vigorously embraced its antecedents in an altogether more radical way. Chairs could be termed one of the first albums to exhibit a genuinely post-punk sensibility, and you could say it traversed the "whole wide world" with its riff-heavy Heartbeat, while paraphrasing for a new age the sinister psych of early Pink Floyd (French Film Blurred), alongside nervy psychosis (I Feel Mysterious Today), gutsy essays in vintage electropop (Another The Letter), beautifully turned, abundantly tuneful pop nuggets (Outdoor Miner) and the towering onslaught of the brooding Mercy, with but the occasional nod to the acknowledged punk blueprint (Sand In My Joints, Too Late) - albeit filtered through Buzzcocks perhaps. The impact of this classic collection was both developed and fragmented by the 154 album, which came out in 1979 at a time when the band had become artistically disunited; like any release by a band in the throes of self-destruct, it can be heard as a frustratingly inconsistent album, a bit of a rollercoaster ride through a burgeoning array of different styles and approaches. But whatever the pressures and difficulties, it's still somewhat of a tour-de-force and contains plenty of splendid moments, from the defiant, confident new-wave pop of The 15th, the wonderfully epic early-Floydian breadth of A Mutual Friend and the doomy, cataclysmic A Touching Display through to the shattering theatricality of Once Is Enough and the weirder experimentalism of The Other Window. All three albums have been freshly remastered, and any partial impression of thinness gained from the original vinyl issues is completely dispelled by the excellent sound of these new editions. My only complaint is the absence of bonus material (I can't believe there's none lurking in the vaults?).
David Kidman, June 2006
Witches Of Elswick - Hell's Belles (Selwyn Music)
Hell's belles indeed! These four feisty lasses have now been "out of bed" quite a while, and so they've had time to "bed into" the scene more naturally after the initial splash they caused when they appeared fully formed with their strikingly characterised renditions of often unusual material, mostly but not exclusively traditional folk. Mind you, they still make an enormous splash wherever they perform, with a knockout of a live show. All 13 of the songs on this their second CD are performed acappella, but the lack of instrumental accompaniment causes no problem since there's such a rich diversity encompassed by the Witches' individual vocal timbres and singing styles that ensures no boredom sets in. There's also a good variety among the largely traditional pieces the Witches tackle, always credibly whether saucy or solemn is the mood. The vigorous Jan Knuckey is a good choice for opener, and the Witches' harmonic zest brings just the right element of sadness to their retelling of Our Captain Calls. Saucy becomes spicy in the case of the Baring-Gould version which the Witches adopt for Saucy Sailor, and Jake Thackray's "sheepish" Old Molly Metcalfe is superbly turned, as is the "absolutely miserable" Must I Be Bound? Perhaps even more successful are the final four tracks, where the "bewitching" tale of The Squire's Daughter and the lasses' spirited reworking of Billy Boy give way to an impressive version of Lullay, Lullay (The Coventry Carol), which effectively combines passion with poise, and a nicely controlled rendition of The Parting Glass to round off the whole experience. The only track where I felt that the Witches' mannerisms and occasional vocal histrionics got the better of them was their rendition of the Coppersong Shepherd Of The Downs, which though "grown-up" and toned down a smidgen for the recording, is still too overtly theatrical to bear much repetition. But mostly, in the words of Sandra Kerr, the Witches "can enchant, engage and excite"; I'd add "enthral" to that list, especially after seeing them live (though thankfully, the occasional over-indulgent girliness that can sometimes afflict their live act doesn't get a look-in on CD), and their sense of fun is conveyed intact in the freshness and healthy upfront liveliness of their performances.
David Kidman
Featuring the twin female vocals of Morgan Nagler (dubbed her favourite songwriter by Jenny Lewis) and Vanessa Corbala, the LA based four piece shifted some 3000 copies of their self-released debut, catching the ears of Gillian Welch and David Rawlings in the process, who duly made them the first signing to their new label.
You can see why they struck a chord, sharing a traditional American folk sensibility while prepared to push the boat out and see where the waters take them. Thus, No Dope is strung out croaked and creaky indie folk that makes Cat Power sound like Kylie whereas Ebb And Flow features throaty bass, funeral beat drum beat, dissonance, growly blues-metal guitar and a sort of Waitsian beatnik jazz. It doesn't make it a comfortable listen, but it's certainly an interesting contrast to the backwoods country shuffle of Old Times. At times, you suspect they may be trying too hard, for example with From The Start/Jamboree, a harmonica blowing hillbilly stomp that sounds like they've mixed LSD in with the moonshine, or Erase The Lines which mashes up electronica, guitar noise, spare revival meeting folk, spoken passage, whibbling otherwordly whistle, and a crunchy climax.
All this may underscore their cool indie cred, but they're at their best when they just strip it to the core for the lazy country blues jug band feel of 103, the simple strum and harmonies of Pushing Oars, Mexican tinged twangy lope Done With Love and piano ballad Atlantic that sees Nagler and Corbala joined on harmonies by Welch and Lewis.
Not an easy record to love by any means, but just like that mean streak lover you'll likely find yourself returning again and again despite yourself.
Mike Davies February 2009
Midlands-based Alan, a veteran of the Middle Bar singarounds at Sidmouth Festival and latterly at other folk and maritime festivals, has waited sensibly long before recording and releasing his first CD. It's a representative mixture of songs with just a few tunes interspersed, fully reflecting Alan's predilections and playing to his considerable strengths as both performer and informed enthusiast of song. Just over a third of the songs are sung by Alan accompanied on one of his own English concertinas, a further third enjoy chorus vocals by two of Alan's good friends, and the remaining three songs are performed solo unaccompanied. What comes across above all else is Alan's total enthusiasm for the music: the playing, singing and researching alike; this extends to the quest for accuracy in crediting his sources within the booklet notes, which are a friendly and attractive mix of information and (where relevant) anecdote and informed conjecture. As for the actual performances, Alan has a singing voice of real character, and an often individual approach to phrasing that betrays his uncompromising commitment to forging his own interpretation, never content to perform a carbon copy of that of any other singer - and good for him, I say, for that's what it's all about after all! The material is two-thirds traditional, the remainder in the traditional style; the latter category includes two by Dave Webber - Blackbird and his setting of Cicely Fox Smith's Limehouse Reach - Cyril Tawney's Grey Funnel Line, and Ken Cockrell's Borneo, so Alan clearly appreciates good writing. Alan turns in lovely, expressive versions of Lark In The Clear Air, Bright Fine Gold and Linden Lea (the latter to the gorgeous strains of his Wheatstone Baritone concertina), while he equally evidently relishes the element of fun in such pieces as Legger's Song and Lincolnshire Poacher. Singers' session staples like Green Grows The Laurel and Country Life - and even The Leaving Of Liverpool - come up fresh here too, while Parting Glass proves the very aptest closer for the disc. Well done Alan.
David Kidman December 2006
Amelia White - Blue Souvenirs (Indigrrl Records)
Michael Mee
Recorded live in Canada with musicians that include members of Be Good Tanyas and Neko Case's band, the songs are also mostly co-writes, among them contributions from Stephen Fearing and Po'Girl's Allison Russell.
With the exception of the semi-spoken reincarnation themed When I Come Back (which mixes the playful with the political) and the lamentable twangy rock Turn Up The Temperature On The Machine Of Love (which is every bit as awful as the title and of which Fearing should be thoroughly embarrassed), there's nothing to have you exercising the skip function. Indeed, you could even well find yourself putting the opening Celtic infused country ballad The Valley Of My Heart on repeat play along with the Russell co-penned Kathleen, a hoedown meld of political and personal that romps along in a Pogues stylee.
With its malt and barley blues mandolin and piano boogie, Twelve String Man is another lively uptempo bouncer while more mellow memorable moments come with the Van-like soul of Why Don't You Stay, the lilting Faithful Heart and Russell duet piano ballad First And Discovery. Not one to introduce White to a new audience perhaps, but a respectable addition to a generally impressive canon.
PS: Check out his MySpace page to hear new political satire la la la singalong strum Gordon Brown ("it's over now you're going down").
www.andywhite.com
www.myspace.com/andywhite
Mike Davies September 2009
Although drawn from a relatively short time-span there seem to be 2 distinct Andy Whites on "Rare". There's early, angry, Dylan-inflected (but not derivative) Andy spitting acrimony & venom about the troubles in Ireland & religious intolerance ("Walking Wounded", a re-recorded "Religious Persuasion"). Then there's mature, smart, quiet Andy writing songs so simple & effective that you might miss their power at first listening ("I Wouldn't Lie for You").
Both Andys display a characteristic wry wit, most notable in the blackly humourous tale of a postman jailed for running down his partner "2nd Class Deliverance" & the exceptional, poignant "England Died with Bobby Moore". Despite being a collection of b-sides, demos & outtakes "Rare" hangs together as a reasonably cohesive whole. A few songs don't work or needed further work but that's the nature of the beast; the reason why the collection is so fascinating. Comprehensive sleeve notes enhance this experience.
The effectiveness of White's approach to songs & arrangements & his occasionally almost deadpan, half-spoken delivery is particularly evident on the 2 covers here, Lennon & McCartney's "Cry Baby Cry" & a live recording of "There Were Roses" by Tommy Sands. The White neophyte might be wiser to start with angry Andy's debut "Rave on Andy White" or mature Andy's sublimely understated "Destination Beautiful" but even so, there is plenty here for any aficionado of fine songwriting.
James Hibbins
Not a swift follow-up to Transnormal Skiperoo but rather a six track live album of 'roadside rarities', an intimate set featuring White with guitarist Patrick Hargon and bassist Fiona McBain helping out on four of them. There's no information as to when or where they were recorded, but they do provide a useful snapshot of White's music. Three numbers come from Skiperoo; a plaintive slow swaying Jailbird, the funky Counting Numbers In The Air (sounds like a band but is actually a backing track with White playing guitar) and a reworked take on the self-accusatory Plywood Superman. The spare solo ghostly blues Alabama Chrome stems from Drill A Hole...., but the other two numbers would seem to be new material; a spooked and lyrically disturbing Southern gothic Stranger Candy and the wittily insightful honky tonk waltzer Jim 3:16 where he observes that "a bar is just a church where they serve beer." In addition, you also get his between song banter and, by way of a bonus, 15 Years: A Story which is just White in raconteur mode spinning a moral fable about when he worked nights in a surf board factory and the strange phone call he received from a mystery caller who just kept saying 15 years. If the music doesn't make you want to catch him in concert, then that surely will.
www.jimwhite.net
www.myspace.com/officialjimwhite
Mike Davies October 2008
When Jim White raised his head on the musical scene with 'Wrong Eyed Jesus', it was clear that he was ploughing a lonely furrow. Musical comparisons were few and far between and I'm pleased to say that's still much the case with this new release, 'Transnormal Skiperoo'. He may be able to wave across the field at that other lone ploughman, Johnny Dowd, but it remains a singular path that he scatters his musical seed along.
Produced by Joe Pernice and Michael Deeming, 'Transnormal Skiperoo' opens with the surprisingly sing along and accessible 'A Town Called Amen'. Indeed, it's just the sort of tune that would have reviewers rushing to pigeonhole Jim as a Country/Americana artist. That's before they've heard the slinky funk of 'Crash Into The Sun' made with contributions from Laura Veirs and her pals, Tucker Martine, Karl Blau, Steve Moore and Eyvind Kang. That slinky, almost blue-eyed soul continues with 'Fruit Of The Vine' which wouldn 't be out of place in an Ibiza chill-out zone. The same might be said of 'Diamonds To Coal' but don't let that fool you. Tracks like 'Take Me Away' bring you back to that Southern Gothic that has pervaded Jim's work. It tells the tale of a boy sat on the train line watching the oncoming train while his momma watches religious TV from dawn to dusk. Rather like Ringo's contributions to The Beatles albums, 'Turquoise House' then lightens the mood with its humorous tale of a character obsessed with the bluish green colour. A trick to change the mood used by Jim to good effect with 'God Was Drunk When He Made Me' on the earlier album, 'No Such Place'. Working up the musical side of this record are Olabelle but, elsewhere on the new record, 'It's Been A Long Long Day' has Jeff and Vida providing a laid-back blue grass feel to a slow song that is just made to hear while watching the sunset. To add to this, another of Jim's ace cards is the imagery he creates with the lyrics. Take 'Plywood Superman'; here, the simple image from an advertising board translates into the inadequate feelings of the character in the song who suffered from a father who always told his son he was useless. A touching tale that typifies a record full of beautiful music and beautiful words.
Steve Henderson November 2007
A recent BBC Arena documentary, released with extra interviews and songs, this sees cult alt-country singer Jim White take a skewed musical and spiritual roadtrip through the South in a beat up Chevy with a wooden statue of Christ, revealing the eccentric worlds of its marginalised po' white folk as he stops off at swampy everglades, car graveyards, barber shops, diners, bars, prisons, and Pentecostal churches looking to find "the gold tooth in God's crooked smile."
The Lord and Southern gothic loom large, especially in the tales of novelist Harry Crews, but everyone's got a story of death, sin, redemption and personal demons to tell while the likes of The Handsome Family, Johnny Dowd, old time banjpo player lee Sextorn former New York Doll David Johansen, and David Eugene Edwards from 16 Horsepower join White to provide complementary performances. From guitar playing frenzied gospel preachers to a gnomic old crone spreading the word on radio, it's utterly beguiling, headily atmospheric stuff.
www.myspace.com/jjjimwhite
www.luakabop.com
www.searchingforthewrongeyedjesus.com
Mike Davies, February 2006
For all of his dark lyrics, Jim White records still come into the world like shining stars of individuality. In a typical contradictory style that Jim would appreciate, I've found myself struggling to describe his music to friends but point out that he can turn out songs that should be Top Ten hits. The sublime opening track 'Static On The Radio' is a prime example with its 'chorus to die for' delivered in the most delightful way by Aimee Mann. She's not the only guest of note with Joe Henry returning to do some production work and Oh Susanna, Mary Gauthier, Ralph Carney, Barenaked Ladies, Bill Frisell, Tucker Martine, etc adding touches here and there to make a very satisfying whole
Jim's lyrical approach comes from the same angles you'll find on earlier records. He mixes the eerie Southern US, gothic feel of 'Borrowed Wings' side by side with the humour of 'If Jesus Drove A Motorhome' and, as in the past, religion is never too far from the surface. The musical styles with their atmospheric moods will be familiar to his fans and, indeed, 'That Girl From Brownsville Texas' has featured live for some time. However, tracks like 'Objects In Motion' shows an increasing sophistication to the production and jazz flavours pepper a number of tracks like 'Buzzards Of Love'. Jim White is a man possessed with an odd take on the world but one that should be cherished for the very reason that he has something more than the usual fare to offer us. After supporting David Byrne earlier in the year, he returns to the UK with his band in June. Not to be missed.
Steve Henderson
Joy Lynn White - One More Time (Thortch Recordings)
If anyone doubts that Joy Lynn White was born to sing the kind of emotion-twisting songs that appear on One More Time, they should go straight to Love Sometimes or the album's final and title track for absolute proof. If you are not deeply affected by the intensity of them, then I'm afraid your soul is in more danger than Joy Lynn White's and that's saying something because she's released an album that can only be described as up close and personal.
Be warned, One More Time is an intense, draining experience. The tracks on it are not the product of some pleasant afternoon spent in a songwriter's circle, they are ripped bloody and bleeding from the very centre of a broken heart. Like all true artists Joy Lynn White has chipped away at the edifice of her life and offered the results up for public scrutiny. One More Time strengthens the suspicion that musicians like White are certainly different from us and probably a little madder. What on earth drives them to reveal as much as I'm Free does and then make it known to all and sundry, I have no idea but I'm damn glad she did.
If you're looking for label then One More Time is a country rock album but it's what Joy Lynn White has woven onto that bald label that creates the magic, although perhaps magic is the wrong word because One More Time is an album wracked with pain, White's voice closes around the heartache and cossets and cuddles it.
The thumping intro to the optimistically titled Keep This Love, flatters to deceive because this is a searing song of angry resignation and sets the tone for much of what follows, 'All the leaves are turning colour and you're a leaf that's turning too' tells a different, darker, truer story. Even I'm Free has the air of a woman trying to convince herself and others that all is well and not being too successful at it, while the 50s diner rock n roll of Certain Boy ends with a twist, 'What's his name?' is answered by 'Can't tell you', she can't tell you because she doesn't know, and the suspicion is left that these may be the dreams of a spurned lover.
Joy Lynn while is an open and honest writer, Girls With Apartments in Nashville lays bare the romantic notions that non musicians have of the life of an artist. Fiction: They go to Nashville, get a contract and all is set fair. Fact: 'they drive beat up old cars, ride around with their guitars in the back seat, they have their dreams'. Throughout One More Time Joy Lynn White places herself fairly and squarely on the front line.
Although she skilfully reaches in and places your emotions in a vice-like grip, Joy Lynn White is no crumbling, tragic heroine sitting at home with tissues and old episodes of Oprah, the album slowly, subtley and surely turns winter of discontent into glorious summer. Looking For You, Looking For Me is a gentle song full of hope. It conjures up images of looking through a steamed-up, rainy window. The images it casts back may not be all happy ones but it has a certainty that better times lie ahead and Good Rockin' Mama speaks eloquently and passionately for itself. Sit it on the shelf next to I Am What I Am as twin bastions of fresh start and defiance. |As a country singer Joy Lynn White will have her equals, although I doubt whether she will have many peers. As a writer her equals will be fewer and further between and her peers non-existent.
Michael Mee
Kenny White - Symphony in 16 Bars
While Kenny's keyboard work is present on every track (mainly piano with variety coming from Wurlitzer, Hammond, B3 and harmonium), this is a disc full of top quality musicians and a wide range of instrumentation – guests include Larry Campbell, Duke Levine, Merrie Amsterburg and Marc Cohn. 'Symphony in 16 Bars' has an urban, 'big city' feel that you don't often see on traditional East Coast singer/songwriter discs, and while it's the combination of lyrics and excellent production that give this sense of location, it's White's expressive and varied playing that really creates the atmosphere. Lyrically strong, musically sophisticated and an excellent and individual singer/songwriter disc. Highly recommended.
www.fishrecords.co.uk
www.kennywhite.net
Neil Pearson
Fish Records are suppliers of singer/songwriter, folk & acoustic music based in Shrewsbury, England
Dr. Michael White - Dancing In The Sky (Basin Street Records)
I don't play clarinet but my daughter does and when I played this to her all she said was WOW! White opens with Algiers Hoodoo Woman and this is New Orleans jazz played by a virtuoso. And Nicholas Payton's trumpet just speaks to you. This takes you back to the 30s and what you may have expected the sounds of the speakeasy to be. Dancing In The Sky (Reflections) is maybe what you would think New Orleans jazz bands would sound like, up-tempo, rhythmic and having a good time. Add in some smokey vocals from Gregory Stafford and you are there.
The Truth Of The Blues is sheer class and White makes his clarinet sing on this sleazy blues. The band return to 30s style again for Give It Up (Gypsy Second Line) and Lucien Barbarin is a standout on trombone. There's almost non-stop playing on the impressive The Hag's Rag and it is followed by the vaudeville-esque Angel In The Day (Devil At Night). The vocal by Thais Clark is excellent on this jazz/blues. Jambalaya Strut gives the whole band a chance to shine and is good time jazz.
There are some slow songs on the album and When The Mighty Mississippi Sleeps is precise and gives the impression of the river rolling along. It's back to the up-tempo foot-tappers on New Orleans Bounce (Out Of The Woods) before a return to the slow, almost funereal Creole Nights. It's hard to explain but it's like the type of song that you hear played when they are showing a New Orleans funeral on TV or film - you know, the ones with the guys dancing with umbrellas at the front. The good Doctor then serves up a slice of ragtime on the old classic Down By The Riverside before giving us Amazing Grace, played with much aplomb. He finishes with Dancing In The Sky (Transition) and this is even slower than Creole Nights at the start but stick with it for the Doctor goes out with a bang.
David Blue
Written by drummer, Juan Van Emmerloot, the instrumental Discoveri is an atmospheric start to Melting, White's 1998 album. It builds to Snowy's guitar which pierces the sub-conscious. I can't help thinking of Dire Straits when I hear Long Distance Loving. Of course, this is not the first time that this has been said. That aside, there is a good riff, the guitar playing is excellent and bassist Walter Latupeirissa is on top form. I'll Be Moving On is bluesy with a pronounced vocal. This is superb and is really all about the guitar. The More You Live highlights a rock guitarist in full flow with top backing from Van Emmerloot. The often covered Hendrix classic, Little Wing, comes up with one of Snowy's better vocals. It is difficult to compare his guitar work with the other versions of this song so I shall just say that he excels in his own way. That's When I'll Stop Loving You is a grinder and Latupeirissa's Terpisah is a moody, atmospheric and short instrumental of a high calibre. The First Move has gentle vocals over a standard rock riff but you can always rely on White to throw in the odd twist. Like The Sun is nothing special apart from the progressive rock middle. You will just rock on to That Ain't Right before going into the title track's bluesy, prog rock finish. This instrumental allows White to turn in a virtuoso performance and the synthesiser fading to the end makes for a great conclusion to the album. There is one bonus track, Love, Pain & Sorrow, which includes a guest appearance by Dave Gilmour. As you would expect, the pair turn in a festival of guitar but the one thing that I did not expect was the inclusion of harmonica - a good surprise.
www.mysticmusic.com
www.lightyear.com
David Blue July 2007
Snowy White - Restless (Hypertension)
Snowy White's credentials are second to none. He has been a member of Thin Lizzy, a touring member of Pink Floyd and played with Peter Green, all this in addition to being a solo artist. He is probably best remembered for the classic Bird Of Paradise from the eighties. On this, his latest solo offering, he manages to give us some melodic guitar rock infused with the blues.
The opening track, Blues Is The Road, with John 'Rabbit' Bundrick on Hammond organ, is a blues rocker in the vein of Santana. The Time Has Come, as with the rest of the album, is self-penned. It includes some sharp guitar but maybe this ballad will suffer from being compared to the afore-mentioned Bird Of Paradise. Snowy treats us to a little progressive rock on Restless Too and Soldier Of Fortune sounds as if it's from a 'concept' album. The title track has an excellent bass line from Walter Latupeirissa. Both he and drummer Juan Van Emmerloot excel throughout the album. You Can't Break My Heart slows the pace down and is another fine ballad. There are some clever lyrics and this is one of the best tracks. It's Your Life is a standard rock track with Snowy's guitar on top form and Softly is a very relaxing instrumental. The album is rounded off with the atmospheric New Day …Maybe and the longest track on the album, Too Far Away. This slowly takes you into an excellent ending guitar solo which showcases his guitar to best effect.
Snowy White may not be a chart regular but he is still one of Britain's foremost guitarists.
www.snowywhite.com
www.hypertension-music.de
David Blue
Tony Joe White – those three words should say it all. Deep Cuts is the new album from one of the greatest songwriters of all time and it features a number of titles that aficionados will be familiar with. With such a large back catalogue to choose from, accusations of complacency could easily be levelled at him and there will be those that just say, "oh, it's just another greatest hits album". However, he has allowed his son, Jody access to the songs and his choice has been measured plus he has a couple of writing credits in there too. He has certainly added to the songs with the inclusion of funky drum loops but some purists may still be running for the hills. Songs such as Willie & Laura Mae and Soul Francisco dramatically gain from the snappy drums and the 21st century, in your face attitude that Jody has inspired. Other highlights include the expansive & world weary Aspen, Colorado and Swamp Water which is a down & dirty instrumental which sums up Tony Joe White and shows his raison d'etre.
There is no mistaking Tony Joe White's contribution to popular music. This selection of songs confirms his sublime songwriting talent and Jody's involvement has fine tuned them for a new audience.
David Blue July 2008
Swamp Rock = Tony Joe White. Blues-earthy, raw and funky, Tony Joe White gets into his groove and his rich bass tones breath hidden secrets, stories and dark dreams.
Snakey is his latest trip into the Louisiana bayou in a album career that commenced with his 1969 Black and White and the classic tracks Willie & Laura Mae Jones and Polk Salad Annie. More recently his Steamy Windows was a worldwide hit for Tina Turner. There have been a couple of dozen (?) albums and several label changes but now Snakey comes to Europe on TJW's own Swamp Records label via the excellent Munich Records. This is a laid-back and pared-down production of ten co- but mostly self-penned songs. The musician credits are Tony Joe White on Harmonica, Percussion, Keyboards; Little Troll Forrest on bass and Boom Boom Cohen on drums. TJW and Chet Hinesley produce. The album is proof, if ever it was needed, that it's not just JJ Cale who's king of the of the mellow, chugging roots vibe.
TJW has a wicked sense of humour and every song is a fertile seed sown in the mind. He's a rock legend whose lyrics will make you shakey. Listen to this from the opener Feeling Snakey.
I was feeling snakey this morning
All my thoughts were covered with mud
And I feel like biting somebody
Feel like poison
Running through my blood
Good grief - that was some hangover! Bayou Bleus - a Sultans of Swing visit to the Big Easy. Dark Horse Coming? - the ominous biblical reference, followed by Organic Shuffle - what might seem to summarise the TJW groove is in fact a worrying but hilarious story about a health-food store visit. And Living Off The Land is not so much Deliverence as weekends roughing it in cashmere socks. Or that snake-supper finale, Taste Like Chicken? Of course the man's a genius!
Sue Cavendish
Jenny Whiteley - Hopetown (Black Hen)
A Canadian folk-bluegrass singer-songwriter, Whiteley's been making a name for herself back home, winning a Juno for her eponymous solo debut back in 2000. Her second album should go some way to spreading the word beyond her native Toronto with its expansion into Deep South country and blues territory, her seductively weary voice easing its narcotic ennui across The Circus Is In Town (part lullaby, part outtake from One From The Heart) but also jiving round the Lucinda Williams barroom on Drive Anywhere and Hallelujah, and getting crackerjack for the banjo plucking Needle In a Haystack.
It's the slow waltzes and last dance shuffles that stand tallest though, the heartbreakers that are Burning of Atlanta, Spin It Round, I Never Knew and the unaccompanied folk purity of Day To Day, though unquestionably the album's finest moment is the yearning country Halls of Folsom, an achingly sad song about institutionalisation sung by a prisoner scared to leave the bars behind for the uncertainties of life outside its walls. A bit of a stunner really.
Mike Davies
If, as it is said, we're all in the gutter, then the stars that some of us are looking at include The White Stripes. Get Behind Me Satan confirms the band as one of the most original and innovative of this, or many other eras. There's a laser-like sharpness to the opening track that acts as the perfect curtain raiser for the flamboyance of what follows.
The White Stripes epitomise everyhting we want musicians to be, colourful, strutting and musically extraordinary in the truest sense of the word. As The Nurse and My Doorbell unfold like acts in some weird and gothic opera, you just can't imagine either Jack or Meg sitting in jeans and t-shirt plucking away at guitars. Red Rain is the expression of the grandeur of Jack White's fractured imagination, what's the point in having rock musicians who think like we do. Part of their appeal is that they take us to places we can't go by ourselves.
And in that theatrical excellence lies the rub. The White Stripes are so far removed from the ordinary world that at times it's difficult to emotionally connect with the music. You admire the passion poured into the bluegrass-flecked Little Ghost and there's no question that The White Stripes are sincere but there remains a curtain between listener and artist. That the band has it in it to be anything it chooses to be, is illustrated by the blistering Instinct Blues. Experimental or traditional, it all comes the same to Meg and Jack but Get Behind Me Satan is memorable more for the brilliance of its parts than the impact of the whole. It's a challenge to hang on to the coat tails of music that continually moves at right angles. The White Stripes are in danger of carving out a niche for themselves and then being condemned to remain in it.
Michael Mee
This album was recorded seven months before Chris Whitley's untimely death due to cancer and it is a fitting piece of work to remember him by. Vocal flits between wispy and pronounced power on the opener, Stagger Lee. This is a slow, brooding version of the famous song with acoustic backing, electric slide and a throbbing drum beat from Ashley Davies. Twelve Thousand Miles is a gutsy blues with excellent, equally gutsy guitar. Bob Dylan's When I Paint My Masterpiece is a wall of sound with Whitley and Lang both on form with this grinder. Rocket House is country blues at the start but runs into a contemporary urban blues. There is some excellent slide guitar from both of them and what a loss Whitley is - hypnotic. The Road Leads Down has, quite simply, superb. They manage to get the ethos of the pre-war Delta and bring it slap bang up to date on the eponymous title track.
Forever In My Life has, as with the rest, a broody undercurrent. The use of Dobro on the album has been a masterstroke, none more so than on Velocity Girl. Unfortunately, the vocal on this is not as good is has been on others but the jagged guitar makes up for that. Ravenswood is airy but the voice goes a couple of times. Underground is completely different from those that have gone before. Electric, grungy guitar with a fuzzed vocal, it is almost demonic. Their voices differ but compliment each other and this is highlighted on the second Dylan cover, Changing Of The Guard. The breathless quality of the vocal is counterbalanced by the snappy guitar. Motion Bride is the last noted track and starts off in a sea shanty style with banjo to the fore. However, there is a short silence and then the guitars take over for a very ethereal rendition of Robert Johnson's Hellhound On My Trail. This is followed by another, Kick The Stones I believe it to be, and the whole thing lasts over 11 minutes with a live track at the end. Not altogether unnecessary but it would have been good if they could have listed these tracks.
David Blue October 2007
Chris Whitley - War Crime Blues (Fargo)
David Kidman
Tragically Chris Whitley born 31 August 1960 - died November 20, 2005 - due to complications from lung cancer.
William's another of those unlikely musical heroes: a latter-day crooner-cum-songwriter steeped in the deep-dark, whose performing style at various points recalls the twisted whimsy of Tom Waits, the growling eccentricity of Captain Beefheart, the innate raw soulfulness of Ray Charles and/or Van Morrison, or the keening hjllbilly inflections of Hank Williams – yet at the same time remains very much its own animal. For William's singing goes beyond mere throat-abusing grind, and he's clearly also studied the singing of the above and other notables from the blues and soul traditions, while also displaying resonances of other inspirational singers through the years. I'm a mite staggered that William's music hasn't hitherto figured on my radar, actually, for Animals In The Dark is his seventh album (the first, Hymns For The Hopeless, came out in 2003!). I can't make any kind of comparisons with any of those earlier records yet, but taken in isolation Animals In The Dark is a sufficiently uncompromising set of self-penned songs that makes a strong impression. Its clarion call is the opener Mutiny, an awesome call-and-response chanted to a pounding snare-drum tattoo, while the ensuing Who Stole The Soul could not be in greater contrast, a slice of deep anguish in the shape of a cracked, heartfelt guitar-and-cello-backed ballad. Another ballad, the tale of Johnny Law, brings the pace up a notch, then we get a clutch of more rested tracks, at the still centre of which is There's Hope For You, which could easily be taken for an authentic soul-gospel number from the 50s till it builds into its fuzz guitar riff coda and segues into Hard Times, a rougher-hewn electric dust-bowl lament. The passionate Let The Rain Come In could almost have come from the Safe As Milk sessions, with its Cooderesque slide and rumbling, insistent bass. Throughout the album, backings are sparse and tightly controlled, yet retain an edge of raw spontaneity; William's own guitar or banjo is augmented sparingly by a handful of other musicians playing organ, cello, accordion, E-bow, bass and drums. At the end of it all, though, and curiously, the small but significant final taste that lingers is that the sum of the album is less than greater than the unquestioned power of each individual part…which I can't quite figure. But the good Mr Whitmore's music is still mighty addictive - I'm sure hooked, and I'm up for more.
www.williamelliottwhitmore.com
David Kidman April 2009
Imagine for a moment how refreshing it would be to hear a largely spartan recording with a huge slug of sinister Deep South Country-Rock verve, a splash of Tom Waits' burred voice, an edge of insane half-frailed banjo & stomped foot percussion, natural unpolished textures, a hint of haunting open acoustic guitar & a strong line in direct, unaffected words. Now stop thinking about it & go buy this record.
www.williamelliottwhitmore.com
James Hibbins April 2007
A humble title for an album with nothing to be humble about. Whilst Jason Whitton will no doubt find himself bracketed alongside other young Americana stars with Thriftstore Cowboy, he shows that the older, more traditional country song is also in very good hands.
Without wishing to unduly burden the young Texan-born musician, there is much of the same openness and warmth that characterized Glenn Campbell's early career. And before we get totally carried away, as good as the songs are, there's no Jimmy Webb here either.
Whitton resembles Campbell more in spirit than anything else, his slightly velvety voice with an aching heart never far away, caresses songs like I Still Believe In Love - a song that relies on a country staple, unbreakable hope triumphing over adversity - and Madagascar.
There is also a much simpler pleasure to be derived from listening to Jason Whitton, he is obviously enjoying himself and the lack of pretension or naked ambition for his songs is very attractive, his music retains an intimate small town outlook.
Born in the Texan town of Bryan, before his family moved to Houston in the early 70s (a fact that makes him older than his music makes him sound), he now lives in Los Angeles and here he combines the best of the two cultures.
The tradition of pure country runs deep in Dandelion Girl and Whitton possesses an integrity that creates an immediate empathy with the listener.
However, he just doesn't mine the past for his gold, Jessica Drive and Lucy owe as much to the sunny energy of the West coast as anything else. In fact Whitton nods affectionately in the direction of John Mellencamp on Fingernail Moon and in truth he could just as easily do the same to Jackson Browne.
It would be easy to be seduced by the easy rhythms and melodies of Thriftstore Cowboy into thinking that it is nothing more than a pleasant stroll through some equally pleasant country rock, but Jason Whitton writes, plays and sings songs that bury themselves under your skin. Beware the power of the comfortable hook, its grip is just as tight.
Michael Mee, March 2006
I've been thinking for ages that it's high time this gap in the Who discography were plugged by a decent CD release of the band's explosive debut album - and here it is, stretching out over two CDs. This deluxe edition represents the first time the tracks have been remixed into stereo from the original master tapes. Disc One presents the original album in its entirety, with the eleven tracks common to both UK and US versions supplemented by the two alternates (I'm A Man from the UK release and Circles from the US release), then rounded off with three bonus tracks (the hit single I Can't Explain and its B-side Bald-Headed Woman, then a B-side from a later 45 Daddy Rolling Stone). There's no argument that the original album contained some of the most noteworthy music committed to disc by any band of the time - not just My Generation itself and the anthemic Kids Are Alright, but also underrated cuts like The Good's Gone and the blistering 12-bar surf-inspired instrumental romp The Ox (a vehicle for bassist Entwistle's pyrotechnics). Alongside, it must also be admitted, some less inspired covers of soul and R&B material. Disc Two brings 45 minutes of additional bonus tracks, which include the familiar mono mixes of My Generation and A Legal Matter with guitar overdubs and newly-unearthed fuller-length versions of two of the album tracks, alongside further B-side material, session tracks, relative disposables and welcome rarities like an unusual example of a-capella Daltrey (Any Time You Want Me) and the version of Anyhow, Anywhere, Anyway (sic) that was originally released on an obscure French EP. All very useful, but why on earth did the compilers omit the classic UK single version of that latter track?? That inexplicable oversight aside, this is virtually the definitive edition of this admittedly uneven but still quintessential mod-era artefact, which here also benefits from some insightful notes and an attractive presentation.
David Kidman
Wholehearted are Pete Luscombe and John Oke Bartlett ("Barty"), founder members of the erstwhile (and celebrated) wall-of-sound acappella folk foursome Ramskyte. Pete and John are now performing as a duo, and on this CD they present us with an honest and accomplished 16-track collection that (maybe subconsciously) centres around six of Barty's fine original compositions: these range from the catchy chorus song Taro Fair to the evocative White Horses (written staring out to sea), the poignant homage Kindred Spirits (posthumously written for fellow-Ramskyte founder Brian Ingham) and the almost too painfully aware Close The Door (a deep response to the suffering caused by the concentration camps).
The remainder of the disc is comprised of quality traditional-flavoured contemporary compositions (penned by Peter Bellamy, Graham Pratt, Barrie Temple, Mick Ryan and John Tams respectively) and an 1833 hunting song, these then being topped up with a handful of good-to-middling trad-arrs, some benefiting more than others from the duo's straightforward harmonic approach and lusty delivery. Some songs are taken a touch too briskly perhaps, losing their expressive import a touch, but for the most part things work just fine.
Pete and Barty are suitably wholehearted in their attitude and delivery, so they certainly live up to their name – and "ripe and bearded" can be taken as a further qualification (and recommendation!). Their singing is attractively robust, suitably direct, and consistent almost to a fault. Which arguably turns out to be the only real potential drawback of this well-sung set, for the duo's method of delivery and general approach to that delivery, though attractive in its own right, doesn't in the end vary much from song to song, and a greater measure of expressive variety may well be welcomed by many listeners who are unaccustomed to this kind of singing. And I'll admit I find the sequencing of the disc a mite curious, with a majority of the self-penned songs placed towards the end, leaving a less balanced impression than perhaps was intended. But this disc was definitely worth making.
www.myspace.com/wholeheartedduo
David Kidman October 2009
The Why & Wherefores - Alright (Dusty)
It's been four long years since a CD from Emily last graced my player: this was her rather fine duo album with Steve Jones, Songs From The Silver Band Room, on which she displayed a new maturity of outlook and expression overlaying her already impressive grasp of the delta-blues idiom and country-blues and roots picking styles. No criticism intended, but Emily's writing and performing partnership with Steve would since appear to have outgrown its sonic space (if not her own modest ambitions), with the result that the duo has since last year been creatively augmented into a full-blown five-piece following the addition of Martin Wydell (sousaphone), Marc Layton-Bennett (drums) and John Barker (lap steel and guitar) to flesh out the tasty grooves. This is an interesting development, producing a supremely confident sound that's quite unique among roots combos and which enables both better nuances of shading and more stylistic versatility than might otherwise be possible with a more standardised roster of available sounds.
It's indicative that during the course of the album's 42 minutes or so, Emily puts her crack-tight band through their paces on anything from retro-rockabilly-shuffle (the title track, which kicks off a bit like Roman Holliday) and smoochy swing (The One I Left Behind) to Cooderesque blues (Black And White), heavy-duty funky garage (Rev Gal) and the "electric mud" vibe of I Thought I Loved Someone Else. And the musicians prove their complete and exciting mastery of any of these styles and much else besides.
The arrangements are cleanly defined, and the recording exceptional in deftly yet positively pointing up both Emily and Steve's intense feel for the music's roots and the more unusual aspects of the scoring. Rough Diamond is a special case in point, where Emily's brilliantly characterised vocal is cocooned in an intriguing, gently sumptuous setting where a string section casts a spellbinding and sultry veil and the sousaphone lends a resonance and cast-iron firmness to the bass line. Rollin' & Tumblin' has a vibrant, and suitably onomatopœic, Latin-style rhythm, while Illuminated brings a touch of melody-rich bossa-nova to the mix. Way Out West slouches in like a lost Little Feat number, with a particularly gritty soulfulness in Emily's singing complemented by rough-house violin interjections. And I just love the way Emily wraps her voice round the jazzy dub swagger of Last Go Round: you could say she's "lively-ing up herself" nicely in preparation for the disc's chunky closer, its lone cover (the Bob Marley classic of almost that name).
Maybe at times the pace of change, the switching between modes, can seem a mite relentless, especially early on the disc, but hey, you can always hit the pause button to give yourself a breather and let each mood settle in. Oh, and I realise I've gone this far without commenting on the sheer excellence of the songwriting - Alright contains no fewer than eleven compellingly sparky and thoroughly idiomatic new songs from the increasingly masterly Druce-Jones writing team. No sir, this CD is vastly more than "alright"... if ever there was an understatement!
www.whyandwherefores.com
www.emilydruce.co.uk
David Kidman December 2008
If your bag is radio-friendly, accomplished Americana with easy hooks and time-tested kind of melodies, then hey, go give an ear to Joe. First time round, Joe brought out an album in 2005, The Lower 48, which coincided with live appearances at the Carlsberg Rhythm & Roots Festival in Kilkenny, where he opened for Son Volt among others. So now, in a similar gambit, Joe's follow-up full-length CD is being released here to coincide with a handful of dates he's playing in Ireland, Scotland and London very shortly. Most of the time there's an upbeat and optimistic uptempo gait to Joe's music, with a straightforward backbeat and attractive electro-acoustic setting, but I warmed more readily to the more stripped-down cuts like No More and the plaintive Out Of Tune and Ring Around The Moon. Generally tho', Joe's music is that of a true all-rounder in terms of appeal: he's a real good singer, he's got a solid backing band (including Brian Bassett, Jason Cade, Dan Nachimson and Dan Marcus), he's obviously totally committed to making music, and his songs slip down like a good session beer – consistently tasty and suitably thirst-quenching, but not so strongly-flavoured or heady as to get you drunk and maybe spoil things. Can't fault that - right?
www.joewhyte.com
www.myspace.com/joewhyte
David Kidman October 2007
Todd Widell - Late Night Saturday (Widell Publishing)
Mike Davies
A power pop/rock trio, Canadians Wide Mouth Mason are inevitably being dubbed the modern day Police or Nirvana. While they still have some way to go to emulate those two they have built up a solid following with their high impact live performances. They have toured North America with The Rolling Stones, AC/DC and ZZ Top so they are no small thing. Shot Down Satellites, their fifth album, opens with I Love Not Loving You, punky pop/rock and an energetic start. Unfolding keeps the pace up with a great riff thrown in. If they can reproduce anything like this live then they will be a force to be reckoned with. Everybody's Right is top class modern rock and these boys are easily chart material. There's some good guitar on this and the singer shows that he has a vocal talent also. Really Wrong is not as powerful as the opening trio although they introduce slide guitar and the high standard of chorus' are becoming the norm. Phantom Limb shows that they can write a good song and the title track is another one off the conveyor belt.
They maintain their own high standards with guitar prowess and a grinding rhythm section. Worse Than Before is as good as anything put forward by the modern power pop bands. Rust is a concession to the ears and shows that they can produce more sedate songs too. It does build up though – they just can't help themselves. Simply put, this is great. Moment That You Came is grungy power pop and Wide Eyed has a blues influenced, fuzzed vocal intro before going off into the same power pop as before. There's some more good guitar work but they may have been better staying with the intro and building on it. Eleven is track 11, surprisingly, and is more pop than the rest. It does still confirm their talent of writing a good chorus though. Please Go Home confirms their Green Day styling and is yet another powerful, catchy song. They finish with the Beatle-esque It's So Bad, a short, strange ending to a powerful album. Van Morrison once said of them "the best band that I've seen in a long time", not a lot to add to that, really.
www.widemouthmason.com
www.curvemusic.com
David Blue June 2007
Fiona is an outstanding singer by any standards, of that there's absolutely no doubt. Although classically trained, she embraced Celtic music from early on, rapidly becoming soloist with Anúna and then the Riverdance show, and The Last Rose is an ambitious solo project which represents her own individual take on the Celtic music heritage. In many respects it's precisely what you might expect from the above description, with distinct elements of what one might term "staged-Celtic". Inevitably, the focus is squarely on Fiona's angelically pure, soaring voice, which is beautifully recorded with state-of-the-art and sensitive backing courtesy of a small handful of musicians. Keyboard player Cathal Synnott is Fiona's principal collaborator and co-arranger, while other young musicians involved in the recording include Cora Venus Lunny, John McGlynn, Des Moore, Andreja Malir, John O'Brien and Robbie Harris. Fiona's singing is peerless: faultless almost to a fault, crystalline and gorgeously glossy-toned, very much at the smooth end of the spectrum away from the rough edges of the traditional singer. But it's not as empty or shallow as that might imply; Fiona's personal response to the texts is certainly genuine, even if the character and timbre of her delivery are unlikely to please the sean nós enthusiast. Fiona's choice of material for the album is wide-ranging, with sufficient variety in mood and plenty of imagination in the settings. Highlights come on a beguilingly sinuous habanera-style treatment of She Moved Through The Fair and a stunning (virtually) a-cappella My Lagan Love (the disc's centrepiece and emotional core), while I also really liked Sigma (composed by Rolf Lowland and David Agnew), a beautiful Gaelic prayer with a tasteful and restrained orchestral arrangement. Fiona also has a keen compositional involvement in the proceedings, on several tracks including Romance Of The Rose (inspired by Chaucer with snatches of La Rotta!). It's good to find an example of Paula Smith's writing here too, represented by A Blessing, although the major-mode lushness of the setting is perhaps a little too sweet for my taste. Similarly with the following takes on Ave Maria (rather amusingly credited as a joint composition by J.S. Bach and Gounod!), The Last Rose Of Summer and The Water Is Wide - for these have a hint of Celtic-by-numbers about their inclusion which compromises the integral originality of so much of the rest of the CD. There's excitement here, but it's a cool excitement, unquestionably carefully manufactured rather than entirely spontaneous. Basically what I'm saying is that if your personal taste doesn't demand a more immediately raw and "rootsy" listening experience and you're able to embrace Fiona's astounding vocal skills and more considered musical vision on their own terms, then fine, you'll be well satisfied with this disc (except that, like me, you'll doubtless think it ends far too soon, after only 36 minutes!...), for it's a classy product and a superior example of its kind, of that there is no doubt.
David Kidman March 2007
While you have to question whether, to judge by some of the material, this means they were intended to sound like The Eagles' mellower cousins (it's an observation not a criticism), in covering the gamut of the band's styles and with songs addressing survival, dogged determination, and mortality, it is, essentially, a reader's guide to Wilco.
With walking bass and chugging guitar, the Velvets-like self-titled opener and the piano barrelling rock n soul You Never Know rep their uptempo rocking side. And if the latter has you thinking of George Harrison, then mid tempo piano ballad Country Disappeared and the closing Everlasting Everything (with its swelling piano chords and vocal styling conjuring A Day In The Life) also pointing up the self-confessed Beatles fan's Lennon influences.
His fascination with existentialism informs the skittering Deeper Down where he sings "I adore the meaninglessness of the this we can't express" to a dreamy tropical melody and harpsichord trills while, accompanying the tale of a murder told from the killer's perspective.
the nerve jangling staccato guitar and single prodding piano note of Bull Black Nova (sounding like Television having a breakdown) remind you of their past excursions into sonic experimentation just as lines like "I can't calm down, I can't think" recall his past addiction to prescription drugs.
On the gentle side, they invite in Feist to duet on the summery acoustic You and I and float across blue skies (with the occasional noiur guitar twang cloud) for One Wing, Sonny Feeling harks to the powerpop 60s (Beatles yes, but Big Star too) and Solitaire wanders warmly among leafy folk ferns with a keening guitar suggesting the occasional alt-country bud.
It is, perhaps, a little too secure in its own strengths and self-awareness to summon the edge of their best work, but as an album that shows Tweedy finally comfortable with who he is and the music he's had running around his dead for the past decade and a half, it is, as the song puts it, "an aural arms open wide, a sonic shoulder for you to cry on."
www.myspace.com/wilco
www.wilcoworld.net
Mike Davies July 2009
Three years on from A Ghost Is Born, Jeff Tweedy and co return in similar relaxed, pensive 70s mellow mood, still tinged with Neil Young shades but this time without any sudden eruptions into growling guitars, feedback or 10 minute electronic drones.
With the languidly dreamy Either Way and You Are My Face setting the pattern, the music here is a limpid soundtrack to lazy afternoons by the river, laying back in sun hazed fields and (as Tweedy's prone to do) musing on love's bliss and bruises.
Not that this doesn't mean they're also content to let the songs just drift on by, here and there they turn unexpected corners with jazzy tones taking over from the country colours, or Beatles (Side With The Seeds), Stones (Hate It Here) and even Randy Newman (Shake It Off, Walken) influences peeking through.
It may disappoint those who were hoping for weirder sonic experimental progressions, but it's hard to imagine anyone begrudging them the swaying pedal steel waltzing Americana of What Light, the piano melancholy behind On And On And On or the languid Oriental hued soft rock ripples to Impossible Germany. Lay back and float the dream with them.
www.wilcoworld.net
www.myspace.com/wilco
Mike Davies November 2007
Hot blues guitarist David first made his name as a good-time live performer back in the mid-70s with a band, before stealing the show on record from the 80s on in; to date he's released a long series of albums that have embraced every style from deep blues to rock'n'roll, synth-rock, gritty jazz and country, so you might be forgiven for asking where his true musical loyalties lie. This latest set is mostly, though not exclusively, a funky take on the blues. Despite the unity that David's driven and accomplished playing gives the album, his desire for showmanship can be excessive as can his quest for diversity of expression, so not all of the cuts turn out equally successful. At two extremes we find the raw punk energy of Professional Victim and the gentle shuffle of Shuckin' Sugar (an adaptation of a Blind Lemon Jefferson number), both of which work really well; elsewhere, Flip, Flop And Fly has some really tasty mandolin work upfront of the principal axework, Buddy Boy's Blues ably showcases the gentler side of David's talent, the instrumental The Groove contains some interesting twists and turns, and the bump-and-grind of Natural Born Lover just about makes it over the line, but some of the funkier items sound quite laboured, and the often overt theatricality of David's performance style (as opposed to his consistently brilliant playing) may deter the more purist blues fans seeking even a fairly straight-delivered electric blues set - certainly I don't feel inclined to repeat the experiences of Catman and Feel Like... too often. Even so, this release will no doubt readily achieve its intended aim of bringing the house down for David's fanbase.
www.myspace.com/davidwilcoxrocks
David Kidman March 2008
The intriguingly-named Wildbirds And Peacedrums comprises Andreas Werliin and Mariam Wallentin, a husband-and-wife drums-and-vocals duo from Sweden. However, their music embraces much more than those two obvious aspects, not just in matters of basic texture.
Sure, the drums and vocals are at the core of their heady, fierce - and fiercely individual - sound, and thus vital energy is a hallmark of W&P, but it's not just a case of pounding rhythms battering you into submission - in fact, the opening track, Island, is two and a half minutes of mysterious brooding voices, a brilliantly atmospheric prelude to the complex rhythms of the ensuing There Is No Light. For there's a real sense of light and shade within the bold diversity of those percussion parts, not to mention the deployment of non-standard (ie non-drum) textures such as xylophone, marimba, steel drums, and even piano and Rhodes, added to the expanded-drumkit scenario: for although Mariam's is for much of the time the only singing voice you hear, she also brings a significant amount of varied instrumental input to the mix. Rather than mere thrashing and driving, much of W&P's music is more gently motoric and sometimes neo-minimalist in character, enabling the words to be heard (it's true that sometimes the more repetitive of these lyrics could be seen as the textual equivalent of a battering drum rhythm, but that particular charge can be levelled against a lot of other music too!).
Whatever, the music of W&P is well listenable and yet stimulating and challenging. It can also sometimes seem deceptively laid-back, notwithstanding both the pagan nature of some of the beats and the concentrated precision of Mariam's vocal expression. This latter characteristic, often described as "psychic muscle", while complementing the drum rhythms can also propel them forward, as on Places. There are times when this key combination is quite reminiscent of the Siouxsie/Budgie (Creatures) collaborations, but there are also passages of more conscious "letting loose", and a cathartic Janis Joplin-like soulfulness breaks through (on Today/Tomorrow, for instance). The most musically adventurous track is probably the opulent Liar Lion, in contrast with which Who Ho Ho Ho ushers us into an altogether bleaker landscape, an almost oriental-cum-Harry-Partch experimental use of exclusively plucked-string textures, and the closing track, the seven-minute My Heart, is a persuasive gospel-Motown-styled workout taking what sounds like a clappy Supremes riff as its basis, with chiming gamelan figures pitted against the indicative chant "I'm lost without your rhythm" that forms its hypnotic mantra.
The closely-knit partnership of Wildbirds & Peacedrums has produced an invigorating CD that demands to be heard, but does so surprisingly undemonstratively: just jettison any prejudices and let The Snake weave its sinuous magic into your bloodstream.
www.wildbirdsandpeacedrums.com
www.theleaflabel.comDavid Kidman December 2009
A four piece from Edinburgh, the Strawberry are fronted by Gordon Macdonald who, on his own admission, spent far too much time as a youth listening to Jacques Brel. Certainly you can hear the influence, albeit as channelled through such past interpreters and fellow devotees as Scott Walker, Bowie, Ian McCulloch and The Tindersticks.
Produced by Boo Hewardine the band's sophomore album throws up an interesting stew of reference points that would (in the light of Be My Muse) probably also have to include The Doors while the opening track, Faster, sounds like a hybrid of gypsy folk, Al Stewart, 60s psychedelia and ABC.
Scottish pop sensibilities are well in evidence too on the crooning Home Falling Star and But That Was Not The Best Part which soar above the same aching heart 3am rooftops as The Blue Nile while Long Time Man summons thoughts of early Deacon Blue. Boolean Boy shows the rockier side of things with a juddering riff that's pure Velvets mixed with shades of Bolan glam, Don't Met My Dreaming turns down a country highway, Here Comes The Honey Man is surely on nodding terms with a copy of the Rebel Rebel sheet music and it wraps up with the title track's big Mid-West hellfire preacher dramatics. It's a variegated punnet but there's some fulsome fruit flavours here.
Mike Davies
21 year old Dani Wilde hails from Brighton and this is her debut for Ruf. Don't let her lack of years lull you into thinking that she can't sing the blues. She has a voice that suits a gritty blues and a crystal clear delivery that can deal with the most intense ballad. Bring Your Loving Home is a driving blues rock with a jazzy chorus and label mate Ian Parker on guitar. Will Wilde also chips in on harp. Heal My Blues has a strong vocal and she certainly knows her way around a fretboard too. It's just what British blues needs - a young female who can play as well. Come Undone is a swinging blues with mucho power from such a small frame and Parker weighs in with some telling guitar. I Love You More Than I Hate Myself is an expansive slow blues that draws out all the emotions. Could it become a classic? I Want Your Loving, another pulsating boogie, is a vehicle for the voice this time although Parker is there to help out again.
Testify is punchy with a gritty vocal. In The Mood is the old John Lee Hooker song and she gives it a slightly different treatment to those that I'm familiar with but well played. Norman Whitfield's I'm Going Down is piano led and a powerful ballad with her strong voice betraying some emotion in parts. Slow Coach is a jaunty country blues and she swings up the classic Junior Wells song, Little By Little. She gets a big help from harmonica player Will Wilde on the latter. People Like You is an acoustic finish. Low key but a very good song indeed.
www.myspace.com/daniwildemusic
David Blue April 2008
The birth of her first child rather put the squeeze on finding time to get back into a proper studio for the former Sixpence None The Richer guitarist's third solo album. So she improvised, recording in the small apartment in Geissen, Germany she shares with husband Christian Roth (who wrote the German sung Anette), using an upholstered armchair as a bass drum, keys in a metal cup for snare and a wine glass as glockenspiel. She also made good sonic use of her son's toys too.
Of course, she did also manage to find room for proper instruments too and even managed to shoehorn in a three piece choir for a couple of tracks. The result's actually rather charming in its intimacy, putting extra emphasis on Wiley's gentle ache of a voice and bringing out the emotional layers of such reflective, sad tinged songs as Crying For You and, featuring some of the loveliest lyrics you'll hear, Tenderness & Love.
Along with some obvious references to motherhood, the Christian element of her old band is here too with Messed Up Everywhere Blues while Raise Your Hand should bring a smile of recognition to those smarting over the way the media imposes its own views on the sort of music you can hear.
Mike Davies, Sept 2007
Two years on from his debut album, the Coventry born singer-songwriter returns with this sophomore offering. Again it's a simple set of acoustic numbers with Wilkes' guitar augmented by strings, brass and woodwind, but you can hear a further maturity and confidence to his music and lyrics and although his references remain cloaked in shades of Drake, Dylan, Martyn his voice seems to have lived a couple of extra decades between albums.
There were Eastern European gypsy violin flavours on his debut and you'll hear them again here on the instrumental Intro and the haunting title track itself, a wistfully resigned song where, singing 'freedom is a soldier, with blood on his hands' and referencing the Spanish Civil War and the French Revolution he conjures thoughts of Al Stewart's history themed early work.
Further illustration of the rich mix of textures can be found on Black Rider where brass and woodwind pain burlesque colours over a canvas of the spurned, exiled son returning 'like the devil' to 'rectify what's owed' or perhaps 'meet them with forgiveness'.
Or there's Alien, a guitar and violin acoustic country blues waltz steeped in self-examination and feelings of alienation, failure, and an unarticulated hunger and need to become something more.
And on The Making Of A Fool, he sets out on the path of a simple campfire lilt before taking a sidestreet to a French cafe chanson while Django jazz guitar picks away behind As It Comes.
It's clearly a collection of songs hewn from personal depths and doubts, at times circling black holes in his self-confidence and relationships (In Many Ways I Am Losing), at others (as on England's Scheming or Garden Of The Night) wrestling with political disgust or ambivalent feelings towards the land of his birth, bending the knee to America. And, on The Trouble I've Seen and The Dust Song sounding like a man old before his time as he considers loss and transience.
But then, on arguably the best track, as he look back on roads travelled, wild youth and a blue eyed love affair with that gypsy wayward girl, he sings If I Could Change Everything, I Wouldn't Change Anything. Which pretty much encapsulates how you should feel after listening to this.
www.joewilkes.co.uk
www.myspace.com/joewilkes
Mike Davies January 2008
A singer-songwriter from Coventry whose dad was district secretary for the Community Party in Birmingham and Coventry, Wilkes spent part of the 90s living homeless in London before decamping to Paris in 2002 to play the bars and cafes. He's back in London now where he's been making a name for himself on the acoustic scene, playing in pubs and bars, as well as landing a Bert Jansch support slot.
It's an unfussy affair, Wilkes's finger-picked acoustic guitar augmented by drums, sax and the odd string quartet, his throaty, smoky voice sounding as stained by life as you might expect from someone twice his age. He cites Dylan as a major influence, but there's no suggestion that he's trying to be a clone. Instead you might hear hints of Jansch, John Martyn (especially on Easy Talking), Nick Drake, John Prine. and maybe even Don McLean on these 10 songs about life, love and the world around. He writes songs worth bending an ear too as well, Too Late To Pray, with its almost gypsy hued intro and hot club sax, a response to the post 9/11 paranoia of America, The Castle a portrait of world weariness and resignation, Say Something a self-examination of intent and purpose, Tomorrow Whatever a simple celebration of life.
"I wish I could sing a good song for you" he says on the encouraging This Time Won't Last Forever. These will do for now, Joe, these will do.
Mike Davies, April 2006
The first would be correct because Walt sings beautiful country; the second would be arguable because Mustang Island is a million miles away from what you would reasonably expect.
As a singer and writer he stands alongside comparisons with Guy Clark and Kris Kristofferson and both Ricky Skaggs and Kenny Rogers chose wisely when they covered his songs because he fits right in with the intelligent, unpatronising, storytelling school of musicians that includes Pierce Pettis and James Taylor. When There's No Money Coming In shows the same unsentimental objectivity that is a Pettis trademark, it's harsh and hard but the effect is startling.
When you say the right things as often as Walt Wilkins does on Mustang Island, there's no need to shout or indulge in theatrics. His style is understated but the message hits home with the force of a hammer blow. There's a natural ease about him, when he sings Grand Ennui for instance, he is completely comfortable in the skin of his music.
Musically Mustang Island is wonderfully warm and relaxed, however you don't need to be a child prodigy to recognise that Mike Daly, Ron Delavega, Mickey Grimm, Tom Lorsch and Rick Plant are musicians at the very top of their profession. They go about their business in such an unfussy way, providing the perfect setting for some rare jewels.
And what precious jewels they are, apart from Grand Ennui, written by Michael Nesmith and a cover of Kevin Welch's One Way Rider, Mustang Island is all Walt Wilkins, although the album's songs are co-written, in truth they belong body and soul to Walt Wilkins. What you get from his voice as he sings If It Weren't For You is the god's honest truth.
Mustang Island rips the guts out of you with Someone, Somewhere, Tonight, then freezes your blood with Long Winter, while Wrapped is the kind of love song any man would be proud of.
But always, always on Mustang Island all roads lead back to the magic of the lyrics, each one conjures up an image that becomes a fond memory. Under the tender care of Walt Wilkins, Mustang Island is a hypnotic, mesmerising and very special place to be.
Michael Mee
Those still recovering from Let It Roll's startling departure from expectations with its nine minute sonic storms and feedback tumult and Robert Fisher's occasional transformation into Nick Cave, will be pleased to hear that, working with Scottish composer Malcolm Lindsay (best known for the soundtrack of Young Adam), things have settled back into more familiar mode.
So, that'll be warm melancholic brass coated old time American folk-gothic filtered with dust dappled jazz moods and interleaved with violin, cello, and pump organ as songs of death, despair, repentance and salvation soak through the soul. If you find yourself thinking of Jackie Leven, you won't be too surprised to discover he's also one of the guest musicians.
The opening Lost Souls is instant reassurance that, as Fisher sings, less is again more, his rich world weary cracked tones sounding like a less gravelly Tom Waits before moving to share the microphone with Iona MacDonald on The Great Deceiver, an acoustic gospel duet (with massed choral backing) about seeking salvation that is easily one of the best things the band's ever recorded. So good it even comes with two reprises; once at the end of the track and again at the end of the album.
The biblical mood ensconced in the album's title embraces the spare Jerusalem Church Bells with its fretless upright bass and the slow waltzing The Pugilist where, backed by pump organ and a heavenly choir, Fisher sings of being 'bowed out and broken, shot full of holes.'
From the semi-spoken Painter Blue with its plucked strings, singing saw and spidery chamber music ambience through the piano and horns blues Water & Roses to the Cohen-like appropriate end of journey closer Vespers, sung to just a mournful violin and a gathering wind, this is Fisher in total command of his strengths.
And, just to add the icing, there's two mid-album covers too. A simple piano hewn Appalachian folk music reading of Lal Waterson's Phoebe and a six minute bluesy and booze fumed avant-folk lurch through American Music Club's Miracle On 8th Street that begins with percussive beats and builds on a spine of intoned piano, a steady brushed snare rhythm, muted trumpet and Chris Eckman on a persephone analog synthesiser to the emotional catharsis of a man seeking faith.
It's a dark, troubling road, but you really should walk beside him.
www.willardgrantconspiracy.com
www.myspace.com/willardgrantconspiracy
Mike Davies May 2008
Thus both Painter Blue and Vespers from the previous album now present themselves in stripped down, raw form alongside songs from Let It Roll (Mary of The Angels, Lady of the Snowline, From A Distant Shore, Skeleton), Regard The End (Ghost Of The Girl In The Well, Soft Hand, Fare Thee Well), and Flying Low (No Such Thing As Clean) plus two new numbers, Scars and a cover of Tom Waits' The Ocean Doesn't Want Me. Given WGC can make Nick Cave sound like Mary Poppins, you'll be pleased to know that both sound every bit as infused with doom hung bleak gothic bleakness as their usual cheery ditties.
www.willardgrantconspiracy.com
www.myspace.com/willardgrantconspiracy
Mike Davies September 2009
If, after five albums, you thought WGC weren't about to change their spots, here's a turn up for the book. It's not as though they've suddenly turned into thrash metal or anything and they still make a fine companion bookend with Tindersticks, but with the departure of co-writer guitarist Simon Alpin, mainman Robert Fisher has taken sole control of the creative and production helm, inviting in guests such as Mary Lorson, Steve Wynn and Chris Eckman and unleashing those Nick Cave and Lou Reed influences he'd kept bottled inside.
Bizarrely, with Denis Cronin's trumpet flourishes, the opening Distant Shore, a zeitgeist song about a soldier on the eve of battle ("I landed here in country with my nations guns and flags"), sounds like something Cave might have recorded with a Yorkshire brass band. But that's nothing compared to the following title track, a nine minute sonic epic that preludes its dark, religious imagery lyrics with a boiling three minute tumult of violin, keyboards and guitar, a storm of sound that returns towards the end before the song fades away on a dying piano. Studio time clearly wasn't a worry because there's another nine minuter in the rather more meandering Breach while the slow waltzing, violin melancholy of Dance With Me clocks in at seven and the desert noir slouching blues cover of Dylan's Ballad of a Thin Man stretches to just past six.
The width's matched by the quality though, the Wynn co-penned Flying Low an optimistic, chorus friendly number steeped in a gently rolling melody, Crush a raucous rock n roller with parping brass and Velvets swagger, and Mary of the Angels a lovely hymn to love custom built for some backwoods church.
Fisher closes up with the shortest number, Lady of the Snowline, the brass returning to burnish the simple acoustic guitar figure and its spiritual lyric of open acceptance of "these days filled with grace" as Fisher sings 'roll me down to the water, lay me down by the shore, let the water hold me over till I find my way home." Roll with it, indeed.
www.willardgrantconspiracy.com
Mike Davies, March 2006
Willard Grant Conspiracy - Regard The End (Loose)
Songs concerned with death, misery and mortality, hued with doleful violin or mournful melodica and delivered by Robert Fisher's sorrow hung melancholic resonant throaty rumble of a baritone that can make Nick Cave sound like S Club Juniors - it's not exactly a recipe for a knees up.
But strangely the presiding mood is upbeat, even River in The Pines trad tale of two young lovers, a drowning and a grave manages to come out the other end celebrating their devotion while the self-penned Beyond The Shore sees passing as the end of life's woes and a passage to Glory.
Of course, it's hard to find too much sunshine in Ghost Of The Girl In The Well, a murder ballad (featuring Kristin Hersh) about a plantation girl who died trying to escape the man "who owned my family" or The Suffering Song, a magnificent though not entirely optimistic saga of a dysfunctional disintegrating family which reminds us that 'sufferings gonna come to everyone someday'. It's a sort of negative zone version of the gospel worksongs about heaven's mercies the slaves used to boom out to ease their toil. And talking of which, of the four traditional numbers among the eleven songs, you'll find a transfixing version of Another Man Is Gone (aka Another Man Done Gone) that etches its mood on piano and slide guitar as Fisher booms out with a bellowing howl of anguish and indignation designed to shake the almighty's throne.
It says much of Fisher's work and influences that unless you know it's almost impossible to separate the trad from the self-penned, as easy to mistake Twistification for the latter as it is The Trials of Harrison Hayes for the former.
Working with the usual array of guest musicians (17 of them this time including Jeff Klein and The Walkabouts' Chris Eckman) and partly recorded in Slovenia (which may explain the Eastern European folk ambience here and there), it may turn over the rocks to explore the human failings that scurry below but there's redemption and hope here too. On Soft Hand basic human contact of skin on skin brings a smile and while death peers over the shoulder on Day Is Past And Gone and Fare Thee Well finds a man alone in a rented room ruminating on a wrecked relationship, there's a sense of peace and acceptance rather than anger. One to have you reaching for the Rizlas rather than the razors then.
Mike Davies
Allison's got an interesting singing voice: dark with experience, slightly worn and croaky at times, and possessing an authentically hard mountain edge that sounds really well against her striking clawhammer banjo playing. Said instrument naturally features prominently on the cover pic of Give Me The Roses, Allison's debut solo CD (which in fact came out last autumn), so we might expect at least a good modicum of oldtime-inspired music therein I guess. Which ain't quite what we get, actually. Not that there's a problem, it's more a case of strength in diversity, although first playthrough may be a touch disconcerting. So, just to prepare you ...
There's five exuberant, medium-to-hard-driven (and quite brilliant) covers of oldtime string-band numbers, on most of which Allison's backed by a crack little combo comprising Tim Gardner (High Windy Band), Dom Flemons (Carolina Chocolate Drops), Matt Kinman (The Little Hobo) and Joe DeJarnette (Wiyos) - the last-named being responsible for the album's production, by the way. Allison happily credits her sources (Tennessee Ramblers, Rick Ward, Tilman & Molly Pyeatt, Carter Family, Georgia Organ Grinders), but she's