A to Z Album and Gig Reviews
Quite rightly, Bill's regarded as one of the key songwriters of his generation, with a truly distinctive writing and performing voice and a career which thus far spans three decades, from the mid-70s (Oller Boller) to Y2K (The Writing Of Tipperary), and his output is renowned for its extraordinary consistency and quality. Bill's exhaustive CV includes stints as a solo performer and with the Albion Band and as founder member of The Home Service, also authoring TV and radio music and famed for his long-time work with the National Theatre in collaboration with John Tams. For a long time now, though, whilst other artists have continued to record his songs, virtually none of his own performances have been available for some years, the original vinyl issues long deleted of course, so until now 1995's excellent Winter With Flowers album (Fledg'ling) formed Bill's only CD entry in the current catalogue (aside from the appearance of John O' Dreams in last year's Acoustic Folk Box.
Technically, Unicorns is a new release, but it actually also serves as a retrospective collection. Confused? - well, don't be. In response to the constant stream of requests for recordings wherever he appeared, Bill took himself and his guitars into a remote cottage for three days to record a selection of his songs (chosen by himself and his fans) for CD posterity. What was initially intended to be a single-CD "greatest hits" quickly became a fulsome double (lasting well over two hours) - an instant measure of just how many unequivocally fine songs he's written over the years, some of these all too often still (inexplicably) unheralded even by those who choose to cover them! Genuinely timeless songs that were originally released on classic albums such as Rough Music, Sunny Memories, The Wild West Show and Urban Legend are here dusted down and performed by today's Bill with an immediacy and total freshness of commitment that's completely devoid of auto-pilot cash-in. The passage of time has, inevitably, occasioned some minor changes to a few of the songs since those earlier versions (as Bill himself so evocatively puts it, "songs leave you like children leave home"). He's in absolutely great voice too, while I marvel anew at just how damned fine and individually stylish a guitarist (6-string, 12-string or slide) he is. Compelling ain't the word! And there are five songs among the 36 recorded here that, incredibly, Bill's not recorded before (these include Rainbow Waistcoat, Aqaba and The Old Man's Song).
Anyone familiar with Bill's oeuvre will realise that his songs cover a wide stylistic gamut, from distinctly English-trad-idiom to country to ragtime to neo-music-hall to contemporary chanson. You may not like every one, but you can't fail to admire Bill's consummate craftsmanship as an intelligent, and strikingly effective, wordsmith, whatever the idiom; a real gift for memorable and poetic observation is his hallmark. This superb and very realistically-priced set (not much more than the usual cost of a single CD) is an absolutely essential purchase - no cliché intended.
www.workingjoe.co.uk
www.billcaddick.co.uk
David Kidman
Andrew's a founder member of that vibrant young Northumbrian trio Roll A Penny (see review of their CD Swingin' Hinnies in the NetRhythms archive). Here after several years of studying traditional music, he's produced a more contemporary-sounding solo album, which is an extremely accomplished effort presenting a thoughtful yet admirably spontaneous-sounding set comprising both tunes and songs. The tunes are all self-penned, and are suitably perky, quirky and sprightly in character - some, like the strathspey-inflected Seven Streets, even turn out to be insidiously catchy too! It's the songs, however, that predominate; all but three are self-penned, and these turn out to be outstanding, with a deft feel for both economy in construction and expression as well as a mature appreciation of tradition. The opening Emigrant's Song has the kind of leaping melodic compass that I associate with the songs of Bernie Parry, while O My Lady takes the Keel Row into gentler Steve Tilston territory and Widow's Walk is a minor masterpiece of evocative poetic writing. Of the genuinely traditional songs, Andrew's arrangement of Sandgate Wife's Dandling Song, to the sole accompaniment of fiddle, is attractively managed, and (perhaps against all the odds) even his choice of an unusual, tripping jig-rhythm treatment of Jock O' Hazeldean works, while Andrew clearly feels no shame in utilising Tim O'Brien's gorgeous old-timey-styled setting of Love Is Pleasing as a basis for his own. Playing fiddle, guitar, Northumbrian pipes, whistles, trumpets, bass and percussion over the course of the album, Andrew achieves an exciting and satisfying instrumental blend by judicious multitracking without overegging the pudding, although it must be stressed that Andrew takes great pride in pulling out as much emotion and interest as possible from just two "voices" (ie singer and guitar or fiddle) wherever practical, and the feeling of spontaneous interaction he's striving for is clearly paramount - and successfully achieved. This is a very appealing CD, although due to its sheer abundance of gently inventive ideas it may not reveal all its treasures absolutely immediately - but when it does hook you in, you can't stop playing it ...
David Kidman
If Eric Clapton calls you 'one of the masters' then you must have a little something about you. If, on top of that ringing endorsement, you're responsible for two of EC's hits, After Midnight and Cocaine then you are definitely a musician to be taken seriously.
However, old 'Slowhand' isn't the only one to appreciate the talents of 70-year-old John Weldon Cale. Such diverse acts as The Band, Johnny Cash, Santana, Spiritualized and Band Of Horses have all covered his songs, while Mark Knopfler, Neil Young, Bryan Ferry all cite him as an influence.
While all that is something to be proud of, it's also a bit of a millstone, ordinary just won't do. Thankfully, Cale's latest release Roll On is definitely in the extraordinary category, almost without trying.
Cale's first solo album for five years, shows that there is definitely no substitute for talent. Always a pioneer in the studio he has built this album upon something far more fundamental, the ability to express honest emotion, backed by a lifetime's experience.
But JJ is still able to spring a few surprises, the album's opening track Who Knew is a glorious slice of easy, scat jazz. Even at this stage of his career, he is not ready to be easily pigeonholed. Listening to him meander his way through the country blues of Cherry Street is the musical equivalent to being handed a piece of old leather, there's a comforting, solid smell and suppleness about the song.
While there's been a lot of love and affection poured into Roll On, the beauty of tracks like Fonda-lina is that they appear effortless with Cale's understated vocals sinking easily into the mix. Everything about JJ Cale's music flows along quite naturally.
As you'd expect of a musician of this standing, the blend of Roll On is just right, no one facet of the album overrides the other, all are equal and that gives the album a sense of completeness. It may be presented simply, as if Cale were entertaining friends in his kitchen, but there's also nothing you could think of to add.
Roll On is an example of what happens when talented, grown up musicians ply their trade. There is nothing brash or flash, no gimmicks or trickery, a masterpiece doesn't require a gilded frame and with Roll On, JJ Cale offers up a dozen of them.
Michael Mee March 2009
This is the second record to be released by self-styled bluegrass iconoclasts Cadillac Sky, the Texan quintet led by songwriter and mandolinist Bryan Simpson. The band's speciality is taking the soulful mountain sound of traditional bluegrass into the 21st century by using the genre's traditional instrumentation and vocal harmonising as a vehicle for songs that tackle deeper modern-day issues like relationships, domestic abuse and alcoholism. Virtuoso musicianship that's never in any doubt, with accomplished singing and playing that's lodged firmly in the tradition of the genre, allied to often pensive songwriting with a strong sense of social justice and keenly observed storytelling: now there's a winning combination. A genuine concern for humanity and all its foibles and vices is apparent in the writing, whether discussing the plight of a wife faced by an abusive husband (Bible By The Bed), the impact of a momentary lapse in behaviour (Baby Don't Cry), the process of denial that a rejected lover goes through (It Won't Be Over You), or the more general life's-journey (Carousel). A couple of instrumental tracks provide a further bonus for fans of well-oiled newgrass. With thoroughly credible musical chops from Bryan's fellow band-members (banjoist Matt Menefee, fiddler Ross Holmes, guitarist Mike Jump and bassist Andy Moritz), there's nothing to dislike, and everything to admire, about Gravity's Our Enemy; there should be no argument about filing this disc under "bluegrass – reliable, thoughtful, satisfying".
www.cadillacsky.net
www.skaggsfamilyrecords.com
David Kidman April 2009
David Kidman
Rewind compiles together 14 tracks originally recorded by J.J. during the 70s and early 80s (we don't have exact dates), but the title is mildly misleading 'cos it's not a revisit of previously released material but a first-time airing for some tapes that had lain in storage under the care of producer Audie Ashworth for the best part of 25 years. The eight Cale originals here are absolutely typical of his distinctive sound and approach, the laid-back easy-rolling bluesy rootsiness of the "Tulsa Sound" that characterises his early years, absorbing influences from country, jazz and rock'n'roll, and which was arguably to prove so inspirational for successive generations and especially so in defining the sound of artists like Dire Straits. Songs like Seven Day Woman could've come off any of those classic early albums from Naturally onwards, fitting like a glove into Cale's recorded canon and sounding utterly timeless and fresh today ...
Unusually for Cale, these tapes also contain several cover versions, which are presented in a block towards the beginning of this CD: Cale has only rarely recorded other writers' material, but he sure puts his personal stamp on the six non-original songs here; these include Randy Newman's Rollin', Waylon Jennings' Waymore's Blues and Eric Clapton's Golden Ring (repaying the compliment of Clapton's championing his work generally and covering his own After Midnight in particular). Other musicians appearing on these tapes include Spooner Oldham, Richard Thompson, Glen D. Hardin, Tim Drummond and Jim Keltner - so we're not being palmed off with half-baked session outtakes here I assure you, but it's solid-state archetypal Cale all the way (shame the total playing-time's only 37 minutes tho', leading me to wonder if there's gonna be more where these came from). Either way, Cale devotees will need this CD, for it's both an essential supplement to the early albums and a valuable collection in its own right.
www.jjcale.com
www.myspace.com/jjcale
David Kidman September 2007
From the get-go one knows this is a goodie! Danger fits like a comfortable well-worn favourite. This is going to be a kick back, chill and let the music flow over and around ~ a total immersion of the senses ~ album. Heads In Georgia is a beautifully mellow number, lyrics make me think of those halcyon days of Capricorn soulful blues but transplanted to southern California. As one would expect the playing is immaculate throughout but not in the sanitised synthetic style of so much 'modern' music ~ they are just all so darned competent that it is spot on all the time and yet feels so loose. Shut your eyes and you can all but see the odd nod and smile being exchanged in the studio because it feels soooo good and right.
When This War Is Over clicks along the tracks with all the feel of the old days riding the railroads ~ relentless and unforgiving but with the vocal very under- stated and yet so strong ~ it would be a weird sort of joy if it were not the blues. But it is. And somehow it is. A feeling of 'togetherness' and solidarity knowing that there are others who feel the same way about war. Some brilliant bass riffs on this track that manage to sound the anger at the concept of war. It is weird how soothing to the soul this is despite the lyrical content, it lowers the blood pressure, maybe it is the endearing familiarity of the form but Sporting Life Blues, the Brownie McGhee song, does just that.
The pathos in Clapton's vocal on Hard To Thrill plucks at the soul's strings, evoking a primeval maternal urge to hold out both arms and a box of tissues - which is patently ridiculous. Then the piano player subtly demands the same response. The deft and delicate mixing of this CD is incomparable. There's a more cynical edge with Anyway The Wind Blows and instrumental breaks with lots happening but oh so cleverly, like watching the majesty of a high wind on the tree tops. And then floating gently back down to earth like a leaf on a hint of a soft breeze into Three Little Girls. I almost feel as though I am intruding into a private space ~ but then that has always been one of Clapton's strengths ~ that ability to suck you into his world with his music. And indeed with the music and lyrics of JJ Cale's as well. As though we have managed to somehow sidle round the door and quietly sit in on their private jam.
The guitar work, combined with the lyrics, of Last Will And Testament, are making me gently weep. Maybe it is our ages that bring with it both a sense of our own mortality, along with a profound gratitude for living. We have all made it this far. There is more to come for most of us. How much we do not know, nor where we will go with it, but there is some master plan. What a fitting tribute the dedication to the memory of Billy Preston this CD is. Who Am I Telling You? How beautiful and apposite.
And so the curtain starts to fall on Ride The River. I had not expected this CD to be quite so much of a spiritual experience for me. Nor to provoke quite so much reflective thought. It had to be good ~ that was a given ~ but this good? Proof again that the whole is greater than the sum of all the parts and Cale and Clapton form an amazingly strong but gentle and formidable team. Eric certainly knew what he was doing when he followed his instincts and set about doing this CD. Something, I for one, would not have missed for the world. A must have. No. Essential. If it were vinyl it would have to be two copies - it is going to be played so much! Clapton is God? Close!
www.jjcalemusic.com
www.ericclapton.com
Miranda Ward May 2007
www.myspace.com/mirandawarduk
J J Cale - To Tulsa and Back (EMI)
I needn't have worried. From the first beat of the opener "My Gal", I was in familiar territory. A wonderful, laid-back JJ Cale world where the roads are empty, the beer is cold and life hums along to the lazy burble of a big V8. The problem is that the more I listened, the more I was convinced that it wasn't quite firing on all cylinders. Not that the album is in any way poor, it's just that I have one or two minor niggles about what could have been a really top-notch CD.
I like my blues to be played by real musicians not machines. Half of the songs on "To Tulsa and Back" feature a live band and the other half are solo efforts by Cale himself. This is a mix that he has used successfully since his 1972 debut "Naturally". Thing is though, the unaccompanied tracks on this album are backed by the slightly synthetic sound of a drum machine. For the most part, this didn't matter. "Stone River" in particular was well played and the essential feel of the music combined with Cale's legendary gravelly voice meant that I barely noticed the band weren't there anymore.
Unfortunately, it wasn't to last. Things came to a head with "Rio". I was on holiday at the time and every bar on the island featured a keyboard player belting out karaoke versions of old chart hits with a synthesised Latin beat and pre-programmed instruments. "Rio" was just like that, complete with manufactured "brass" section. The familiar cracked and croaking Cale vocals were there as usual, yet even this couldn't disguise the fact that the music sounded not only false, but also out of place on what was for the most part a blues album. To me it just sounded wrong.
Luckily for me, I didn't give up, because from Jim Karstein's first real brush stroke on a real snare drum, "These Blues" got me right back in the groove. What a relief. After the temporary misfire, things smoothed out and just got better and better. "Motormouth" was excellent and when you listen to the words of "Blues for Mama", you won't fail to be moved. In the end, I was left feeling that the final banjo picking track "Another Song" came around way too soon.
Incidentally, has anyone else noticed the similarity in guitar and vocal styles between JJ Cale and Britain's own Mark Knopfler? Take a listen and you'll see what I mean.
Andy Pearson
This is self-effacing, Tulsa-born JJ Cale's first 'live' offering in an album career which commenced in 1971 with the wonderful 'Naturally' on Shelter and has remained consistently excellent throughout. Nowadays playing a Gibson L5 (if the album cover is to be believed) rather than his old $50 expensively-customised Harmony and living in a house in southern California rather that his Airstream trailer in a trailer park, JJ's music is still a benchmark for simplicity, style and elegance.
'Live' tracks are taken from concerts in USA and Europe from '90 to '96. The whoops of joy from the audience, captured on this album, were echoed by me writing the review. Oh my! did this one push my buttons. His songs may be better known to some for being recorded by 'great and good' Eric Clapton, Santana, The Band, Lynyrd Skynyrd, Mavericks and more, but no one does it like JJ Cale; the effortless perfection of that laid-back and rhythmic blues shuffle, that confidential mumble - like he's telling you stuff you'll really want to know - and those flashes of understated guitar brilliance which have influenced better-known guitarists such as Eric Clapton and Mark Knopfler.
From the opening track, an outstanding solo acoustic After Midnight, bass player Bill Raffensperger joins him for Old Man, and the full band come on for Call Me The Breeze and Sensitive Kind (from Cargegie Hall '96) for one of the greatest recorded live performances I can remember. These four perfect tracks are worth the cost of the album in themselves - and then they are are joined by memorable versions of Cocaine, Money Talks, River Boat Song, Living Here Too, Mama Don't Allow, People Lie, Humdinger, Thirteen Days, Magnolia, and Ride Me High - the distinctive style of the legendary guitar genius sounding as fresh as ever. More than "highly recommended".
Sue Cavendish
Paris 1919 was the (outwardly) gentle-as-the-Welsh-accent record that occupied a kind of no-man's-land between Cale's two post-Velvets Columbia albums (bold experimentation with Terry Riley on Church Of Anthrax then the rockist surrealism of Vintage Violence) and his arguably even more maverick Island recordings. Its elegant gentility and supreme musical accessibility turned out to be deceptive; indeed, Cale himself has even described it as "an example of the nicest ways of saying something ugly". As the writer of this reissue's booklet note posits, the album title's timeline (the Versailles Conference) was after all a harbinger of future bloodshed, and even the most luxurious melodies can't hide the rivers of blood - and acute sense of loss - running through the intelligent, knowingly literate (if at times cryptic) lyrics of these songs. The album therefore repays much more than just a superficial rosy-tinted revisit, and its latest reissue fittingly expands the original nine tracks by the addition of no less than eleven "sketches and roughs" for the album. These inevitably vary in interest, from a beautifully dark, viola-rich Hanky Panky Nohow and a more chansonnier yet strangely satisfying solo-piano-backed version of the title track (with a rather lovely Brian-Wilson-inspired vocal bridge passage) to a poignant yet curiously enigmatic previously-unreleased song, the country-waltz-tinged Burned Out Affair. Listening to these "roughs" did have another intriguing benefit too: that of re-focusing on the effect the contributions of Cale's diverse backing crew (Little Feat members Lowell George and Ritchie Hayward, Jazz Crusader Wilton Felder and members of the UCLA Symphony Orchestra!) had on the final mixes - for instance, A Child's Christmas In Wales makes a more direct impact in its "rough" state, with a more prominent organ part in place of that slide-guitar riffing, and the more opulent yet sensitively-scored fuller-orchestral setting given to the second alternative version of the title track gives a fabulous sense of panoramic scale to the enterprise. In truth, I actually prefer many of these "rough mixes" (the majority being anything but rough in fact), where the ambiguity of the lyrics is in my opinion better complemented by the fresher yet paradoxically more considered settings. Even the messy, out-of-tune piano on Graham Greene has a certain charm! In all, this is a fascinating and enlightening reissue.
David Kidman July 2006
Recorded in September 2006, shortly after the release of Garden Ruin, this shows the band in a transitional period, reflecting on their earlier experimental, atmospheric ambience but moving towards the more structured song oriented and often pop inclined approach to their craft that now defines their work, their Tex-Mex border cinemascope mariachi sound informing both.
With singer Joey Burns in relaxed, chatty form, it's a fairly evenly balanced set list, opening with a pared down Convict Pool and including such past nuggets as a crowd rousing, trumpet soaked Across The Wire, El Picador and the superb rock edged Not Even Stevie Nicks alongside then new numbers like subdued ballad Cruel, the muscular rock fire of Letter to Bowie Knife and Roka.
For the latter they're joined by Salvador Duran who also hangs around to lend his rich Mexican baritone to Guero Canelo and He Lays In The Reins. That, of course, was written by Iron and Wine's Sam Beam and the live set delivers a terrific reprise of the studio collaboration between him, wife Sarah, Duran and the band.
The influence of Arthur Lee is often evident in Calexico's music, so it's fitting too that one of the highlights of the set is a superb cover of Love's Alone Again Or that does full justice to the original. If, you happen to have seen this as a tape of the TV show, you'll also be pleased to know that the DVD features the extended full version of the show with no less than eight songs that weren't included in the broadcast.
www.casadecalexico.com
www.myspace.com/casadecalexico
Mike Davies April 2009
Calexico - Feast of Wire (City Slang)
Always providing a welcome blend of bluesy Mariachi desert rock Americana and border stories, this is easily their finest album yet with its mix of cinematic epic and atmospheric sparsity. Peppered with instrumental interludes, it scuffs its dust blown heart through such downbeat visions as Sunken Waltz and the plaintively sad Not Even Stevie Nicks -where Joey Burns shows off his rarely heard falsetto - and the hushed spook of Woven Birds. But while Across The Wire may be a typical brass hued Calexico TexMex number they also pull a few rugs from under the feet of expectations with the jazztronics Attack El Robot! Attack!, the parping jazz blast Crumble and the self descriptive Dub Latina. They've also just lifted one of the album's stand outs, the string drenched , heavy limbed melancholy of Black Heart, for an EP of reworks and remixes that include a jazz dub version of that, a 3am smoky cellar sax mourning retool of Robot and the Go Tan Project's samba lurch of Quattro.
Mike Davies
Harp player Alvin 'Big Al' Calhoun and guitarist Henry Townsend get together for this August 1979 session that was recorded in Townsend's home in St Louis, a fact that only adds to the charm of the album. The session, recorded by Arcola founder Bob West, was suggested by Townsend after West had recorded him earlier that month. The result was Harmonica Blues and it is a great example of the art of harmonica playing. Calhoun takes on the vocal duties for the first half of the album and his smokey voice compliments his harp and Townsend's, sometime sparse, yet effective, guitar style.
Black Panther is a good, powerful opener with both guys on form and is followed by the often covered and probably not too politically correct nowadays, Good Morning Little Schoolgirl - good version though. The instrumental Al's Boogie-Woogie shows all of the facets of Calhoun's playing and his songwriting skill is shown on Buy Me An Airplane, the only track on the album written by him although if he could write this good then why aren't there more of his tracks present?
Shake Your Boogie sounds as if he's going to blow his lungs out as he powers his way through and this is followed by his homage to Little Walter, It's Too Late/My Babe, on which he does not disgrace himself. Calhoun said that if he could pick any guitar players to play with then he'd choose the Meyers Brothers who were, incidentally Little Walter's men. The last track sung by Calhoun is That's All Right, which is a wailing blues in the classic mould with Townsend's guitar twanging away in the background.
Henry Townsend and his wife Vernell take over the vocal duties for the rest of the album and the style changes from Calhoun's raw delivery to the Townsend's more polished vocals. Betty Lou is standard fare but Can't You See has the Townsend's in harmony on one of the highlights of the set. Townsend writes the final six tracks on the album and he shows his class with Love Was In Our Hearts and Wake Up Old Maid, allowing Calhoun to express himself fully but he saves his best for Tears Come Rollin' Down. This is the track of the album and Vernell takes the lead vocal. She sings the song perfectly, Henry delivers the guitar fills with venom and Big Al plays understated harmonica brilliantly.
The final two tracks are Tin Pan Alley and Old Story Blues, the former sang by Vernell and the latter by Henry. The closing song is the more upbeat but Tin Pan Alley wins the contest of the singers. Calhoun is not to be outdone and produces some of his best work on Old Story Blues. If this is an indication of what is in the Arcola archives then hopefully they'll be opened again soon.
David Blue
This fascinating 72-minute disc is rather unassumingly subtitled "folk songs and spirituals". It contains vital and committed performances of authentic spirituals, shout songs from the Sea Islands, prison ballads and rare secular songs from the African-American folk tradition. Andrew's own excellent rootsy singing is found to be ideal to the task, and he's augmented by the individual and combined voices of around a dozen other singers, including within their ranks Bruce Soper, Tony Dale, Sue Demel, Katherine Davis, Darwin McBeth Walton, Richard Shindell, Valerie Carter-Brown and Runako Robinson (and most of these get a solo!).
The beauteous richness of these voices is given a perfectly sensitive amount of instrumental support (guitars, banjo, cello, fiddle, trumpet, piano, harmonica and sundry percussion) that lends a brilliance and power to the vocal contributions, throwing them into relief without ever overwhelming them. Bound To Go is the fruit of Andrew's extensive research into old songbooks and collections, and he's unearthed some fabulous music (quite a bit of it unfamiliar to me). The majority of the disc's 35 tracks are quite short, but such is the nature and diversity of the selections that the listener neither feels shortchanged nor gets the chance to be bored.
The accompanying 24-page booklet contains exhaustive notes, bibliography and discography, all prefaced by what amounts to a mini-thesis by Andrew which does so much more than merely expound his motivation for the project - for it's a labour of love which has its roots in his mother's own involvement in activism. In accordance with Andrew's opening statement "folk songs carry the emotional truth of our history", every piece on the disc (whether a concise, pithy rhyme or holler, or the extended chain-gang lament No More Cane On The Brazos) is sung with entirely appropriate integrity, authentic expression, sympathy and affection, and an infectious intensity.
Aside from Andrew's own spine-tingling near-acappella rendition of Brazos (accompanied only by some rudimentary drum-banging), highlights come thick and fast: the bleak slave-song O'er The Crossing, Big Llou Johnson's deep-felt plantation-song Way Up On The Mountain, a sterling group rendition of Lost John, Sue Demel's wonderfully sturdy Michael Haul The Boat Ashore, and Tyisha Williams' tender lullaby Open The Window, Noah. No sir, there's none of yer vacuous happy-clappy here - this is a tremendously powerful album with a great sense of atmosphere and the deepest possible commitment that shines through both in the performances themselves and the exceptionally fine recording and presentation. Prepare yourself for a heap of neck-prickling moments. This is a landmark release, I'm convinced.
www.waterbug.com
www.andrewcalhoun.com
David Kidman April 2008
This is a kind of sidestep for Waterbug label founder Andrew - whereas all his other releases thus far have concentrated on his own fine original songs, this is a foray into exclusively traditional sources, in this case folk ballads from Scotland. But actually it's not aeons removed from Andrew's own work, for it's still shot through with his trademark thoughtfulness of execution and his signature warm vocal tones. Also, close listening will reveal how closely Andrew's experience of those traditional ballads informs his own writing: not least in the poetical impact, and the keen sense of structure and development, and onward progress within a song - that's in every sense, not just in how to tell a story and keep listeners' attention.
We learn from Andrew's pithy yet informative booklet notes that he grew up listening to Ewan MacColl's recordings, and he has clearly taken on board the very principles behind Ewan's interpretations of these age-old tales. He recognises the ballads' unique role in the oral tradition, and has taken pains to ensure, through careful translation and occasional rewriting, the effective communication of their timeless preoccupations and morality and thus convey their continuing relevance today. His actual choice of ballads is an interesting one; though his selection is taken exclusively from the Child collection, he intersperses some of the celebrated "heavyweights" that we know and love (King Orfeo, Glenlogie, Clark Colven, Hughie Graeme, Eppie Morrie) with more well-known fare (Two Sisters, The Unquiet Grave) and some less often heard items (The Battle Of Harlaw, Telfer's Cows).
This is not a CD of unrelieved doom, gloom and murder either, for there's the delectable "Chaucerian farce" of A Shake In The Basket for light relief - and several of the ballads are taken at a sensibly brisk tempo without a trace of lugubriousness! Andrew has creatively and credibly reworked some of the original published sources - for example, Kinmont Willie (one of many Child ballads collected and then extensively rewritten by Sir Walter Scott) has been brought closer to the historical record of the events, while Clark Colven brings in some information from a Danish variant.
Andrew's readings are without exception intelligent and scholarly, sufficiently intense without sounding offputting, not in any way forbidding and always musical, accessible and listenable. Four of the twelve ballads employ just Andrew's guitar, with accompaniment stylings ranging from simple but effective rippling bardic chords (Clark Colven) to more intricate yet undistracting embellishment. Two are sung acappella - Hughie Grime (sic) solo (a measured yet suitably intense highlight), and the lively Battle Of Harlaw with Bob Soper and Rob Stroup in tow. Andrew's own voice is rich and his delivery and phrasing wholly pleasing; although he uses and respects the original sources, he suffers neither from his natural accent nor from any forced Scottishness in his diction. On the rest of the tracks Andrew has enlisted Tracy Grammer (violin), Elisabeth Nicholson (harp), Joe Root (accordion), Donny Wright (bass) and the aforementioned Bob and Rob (fiddle, mandola) in various permutations, except for the stirring tale of Eppie Morrie which enjoys a wonderfully full-on (and fulsome), driving treatment courtesy of the admirable William Pint & Felicia Dale.
My conclusion is that this vital and enterprising release ought to appeal to the serious enthusiast of traditional balladry as much as to the lover of quality contemporary songwriting who's keen to gain an insight into a writer's inspirations by exploring his sources in his own company.
David Kidman
Founder of the esteemed artists' cooperative label Waterbug, Connecticut-born Andrew's also a prolific singer-songwriter and poet in his own right. To date he's brought out nine solo albums (six on CD) and two books of poetry, and achieved a high degree of artistic consistency over the 22-year timespan covered by these releases. For a good ten years prior to that first album (1983's Water Street), though - in fact, since the early 70s - Andrew had been busily writing songs; when in December 2004 Andrew moved back into the house where he'd written most of them and started looking at them again, he realised that he still knew them all by heart and decided to get them recorded afresh for posterity, hence this new CD. And it proves to be a fascinating disc, a journey through Andrew's formative years as a songwriter that displays his talent as being well-formed virtually from the start. Perhaps some songs, such as Atmospheres (dating from 1973), aren't as confident melodically as Andrew's later work, but they're still interesting pointers to what he calls the "psychic" strand of his songwriting - as is Broken Boundaries, which concerns his uncanny premonition of a car accident. The 16 songs on Staring At The Sun date from between 1973 and 1981 (the title of this collection coming from a line in History), and contain examples of most of the strands that have since defined themselves within Andrew's writing: image-rich poetic journeys, atmospheric portraits (John's Wife), simple yet emotionally-charged little lieder (like From Time To Time and I Have Run And I Have Crawled, both of which prefigure later classics such as If..., and the haunting Deliver Me), and fun comic observations where lines tumble out over each other (like on the breakneck A Seat In The Mezzanine). Andrew's songs exhibit a masterly economy and a highly developed sense of literacy, and his warm, resonant, individual baritone voice and gentle yet fulfilling fingerpicking style prove the ideal vehicle for his creations. Maybe this release isn't the first-choice for an Andrew Calhoun album to buy if you want an accommodating introduction to the very best of his writing, but nevertheless it comes close to being representative in terms of his unique songwriting personality, all the while proving that even Andrew's early work is inspired and far better than mere juvenilia, providing a valuable insight into his subsequent artistic development.
David Kidman
Califone arose out of Red Red Meat, from whence came founder members Tim Rutili and Ben Massarella; their approach to music-making has always been one born of a love of experimenting with sparse and unusual instrumental textures. Their latest offering, Roots And Crowns, follows a particularly intense period of activity after Quicksand/Cradlesnakes, during which they recorded four albums in three years. However, the new album betrays no sign of drying-up of inspiration, in fact quite the reverse, for it draws much of its white-heat inventiveness from the situation the band found itself in when its equipment was burgled during their last tour and they were forced to stretch the sound envelope with increasingly limited resources. Although the uniquely atmospheric qualities of Califone's previous work are retained, there's a new freshness about this latest album that seems born more than anything else out of a revitalised attention to minor detail, a willingness to take time over it, that informs the overall texture. Folk-psych meets alt-, you could say, on cuts like Burned By The Christians, whereas the Califone cover of Psychic TV's Orchids (the album's only non-original) seems as natural as twilight blending into the dark duvet of its twisted nu-folk bedfellows. From the eccentric fractured rhythms of Black Metal Valentine to the layered organic experiments of Spider's House and 3 Legged Animals, mixing traditional with modern sound-sources, the fibrous tendrils of the various and different instrumental strands weave into and through the music like the roots and crowns of the album title, an apt metaphor if ever there was one. What these guys do with just a violin, banjo, guitars, a smattering of percussion and a sensitively restrained modicum of electronica, is all pretty creative stuff. There are countless intriguing touches, too many to comment on here - you just need to listen with an open ear. Me, I think this is Califone's most immediate and persuasive album to date.
David Kidman March 2007
Lynchpin of Smog and married to Joanna Newsom, Callahan's first solo album is only really a departure in as much as he's abdicated production, design and arranging duties to focus on his playing, writing and singing. So, basically a Smog album then with its free flowing train of thought lyrics, chugging country flavours, and a low baritone that frequently paints him as a young Lenny Cohen. It's a comparison that's particularly striking on the talk-sing opening piano led track From The Rivers To The Ocean, a meditation on time passing where lines like 'have faith in worthless knowledge' and 'I could tell you about the river or we could just get in' sound like something Cohen might have penned with Bill delivering them in much the same fashion. The Cohen touch is evident too on the funkier marching rhythm Diamond Dancer but elsewhere it's Lou Reed that comes to mind on the sunny lollopping Honeymoon Child. the shimmeringly lovely summer breeze Sycamore with its Baptist choir backing and a pulsing staccato rythmed carnival feeling Day. And then Johnny Cash and Willie Nelson are surely the guiding spirits behind the chirpy hiccuping train rhythm A Man Needs A Woman Or A Man To Be A Man and the country gospel The Wheel where, like some travelling preacher leading his congregation, Callahan speaks the lines before singing them. But, while there may be reference points, Callahan is undeniably his own man and now, trading with his own name, this is an small but individual pleasure.
www.dragcity.com/bands/callahan
www.myspace.com/toomuchtolove
Mike Davies April 2007
Ben Calvert - The Leafy Underground (Bearos)
Following on from his EP of three years back, Birmingham singer-songwriter Calvert (not the Vex Red drummer, ok) recorded parts of his debut album at the Royal Academy of Music and a small church in native Moseley. That gives you a rough idea of where he's coming from. A mix of solo numbers with just acoustic guitar, some fleshed out with flute or piano and some featuring the band he recently toured with, it's firmly in Nick Drake/Ben Watt/Syd Barrett leafy English post folk territory though there's also hints of Pete Atkin, Nico (especially on Counting Carriages), Robin Williamson, Noel Harrison (on No Lullaby) and early Roy Harper in there too.
Starlight sounding almost like a traditional troubadour number, it's dreamy, reflective sadness veined romantic stuff, Calvert's finger-picking guitar trickling like raindrops after the storm. Images of autumn gardens, wooded lanes, potting sheds, allotments and all things quintessentially old fashioned England tumble into the head as he sings of sitting watching ducks on Sunday morning while, with just voice and piano accompaniment, the haunting Ides of March sounds what you might image English spirituals to sound like if such things existed, while with big orchestration and a bigger budget Last Orders could easily translate into the sort of stadium sweller beloved of Coldplay. He's happier though to shoot for more modest targets. I'd say the new Tom McRae would be about right.
Mike Davies
Paul Camilleri - Another Sad Goodbye (Zyx Music)
I don't know if Paul means to be prophetic on Let My Guitar Talk but, believe it or not, he actually turns in one of his better vocals on this shuffling blues. It's Too Late is middle of the road soft rock and doesn't really get going but things change for the better on the slinky and smooth When The Night Comes - this is one of the album's highlights. The theme stays on the slow side for All Went Wrong so get your lighters out for this and sit back for the scorching guitar. There's some Kansas style swing blues on I Can't Wait Until Tonight and Paul turns in some snappy guitar as he really pings those strings. Ain't Givin' Up is a funky blues, driven by drummer, Steve Holley but the guitar outshines the vocal again. The album finishes with a radio edit of the earlier Lady Luck. Paul Camilleri certainly has talent as a guitarist and songwriter but it may be some time before his voice grows on you.
David Blue
Alex Campbell - Been On The Road So Long (Castle)
Widely heralded as one of the most influential and lasting of the folk singers of the European revival, the mighty and irascible Alex Campbell (who died in 1987) was the quintessential wandering troubadour who earned a reputation as a hard-travelling, hard-drinking, hard-living man, despite which he was unarguably a phenomenal live performer of traditional and contemporary material alike. It's been said that Alex cut more than a hundred albums during his 30-year singing career, many of which were one-off, one-take affairs recorded live, and often of uncertain and erratic quality. It's widely accepted, though, that the cream of his recorded output, representing his peak as a writer and performer, was the handful of releases he cut for the Transatlantic label in the mid-60s, some of which featured support from the likes of Louis Killen, Martin Carthy and Cliff Aungier. These albums (along with the largely autobiographical EP My Old Gibson Guitar, the title track of which appears here) presented sparse, earthy and committed renditions of traditional songs like I'm A Rover, The Overgate, My Singing Bird, Night Visiting Song and The Unquiet Grave (one of the picks of this side of Alex's repertoire was Glesga Peggy, which for some inexplicable reason didn't appear on any release at the time). A good number of these songs were even then folk club standards, and others have since become such, but these passionate, distinctively burring performances have rarely been surpassed, although one or two (eg Bruton Town) seem decidedly dour. In addition to the traditional songs, Alex was wont to feature a sizeable contingent of original songs, which included evocative personal numbers like Don't You Put Me Down, and touching performances of choice contemporary material like Woody Guthrie's Plane Wreck At Los Gatos. Additionally, Alex's protegée, a young nurse called Alexandra ?Sandy? Denny, appears on the final selection on this anthology, a second version of its title track that's taken from the Alex Campbell And Friends album. This new compilation, which benefits from hindsight-filled notes by David Wells, claims to draw together each and every track that Alex recorded for the label - three LPs' worth - although I'm unable to verify this as I'm ashamed to admit that I never actually owned the original LPs (though I'm aware that many LPs gave distinctly short measure in those days). Whatever, all of the songs already mentioned in this review are included on this handsome single-disc anthology, which stretches to 79 minutes and thus represents a real bargain. And when you've invested in this excellent anthology, you'd do well also to purchase the fine mid-90s two-disc set of recordings taken from the Alex Campbell tribute concert which was masterminded by Allan Taylor (still available from Allan on his own T Records label).
David Kidman
Fil Campbell - Songbirds (CD and companion DVD) (Glenshee Records)
The Fermanagh-born singer/songwriter has changed tack for her latest project (and fourth album release), on which she looks back at the music of her childhood and pays tribute to the songs of the past and the women singers who performed them. Its genesis lies in Fil's desire to make a CD of folk songs that she had grown up with and that had first been recorded in the 1930s by Delia Murphy, but that basic idea has since evolved further to also embrace the lives of four other women who had also recorded this material (Ruby Murray, Bridie Gallagher, Mary O'Hara and Margaret Barry), eventually blossoming into a six-part series for Irish Television – entitled Songbirds: The First Ladies Of Irish Song – which was first shown in autumn 2005.
The DVD (which is available separately from the CD) presents the actual TV programmes in their entirety. What comes across more than anything else is that the project has been a real labour of love for Fil: her unreserved affection for her subjects and their songs, and her ability to get to the heart of the singers' stories and communicate it lovingly to her audience. The series is also strongly unified both in style and format and in terms of design and presentation, and looks and sounds extremely attractive, with archive film extracts and interviews sensibly balanced and integrated. Each programme seems just about the right length, and no individual element outstays its welcome - and yet I also felt I learned a significant amount about the ladies and their personalities from these brief portraits. The basic biographical information is fleshed out by reminiscences from an array of respected and experienced musicians, writers and broadcasters (these including Mick Moloney, Colum and Tommy Sands, Phil Coulter, Reg Hall, Steve Cooney and Ron Kavana), all of whom display an evident warmth, regard and admiration for the ladies (and a keen appreciation of their talents) and a relevant depth of informed knowledge with often some very interesting stories to tell. Finally, a number of excerpts from the recording-studio sessions (where Fil and a select few master musician friends performed key songs associated with the singers discussed) set the actual biographical studies into relief and give them an interpretive context. The first programme introduces the series' concept and rationale, while presenting a thoughtful overview: its tempting and plausible central thesis is that women singers weren't recognised as important in the performance of Irish repertoire (and moreover, all Irish singers were almost ashamed of their own heritage) until the emergence and subsequent popularity of these five singers; each in her own way has been deemed to contribute significantly to the ongoing folk revival while defining a specifically Irish repertoire that nevertheless encompassed both indigenous songs from the true tradition and songs from the music-hall or even Tin Pan Alley that idealised "the motherland" for the benefit of emigrants exiled in other countries (especially the USA). Each of the remaining five programmes in turn is then seen to concentrate exclusively on the life and work of one of the "first ladies of Irish song". Some or most of the five singers may at times have had songs which were common to their individual repertoires, but it's important to note that they performed in often diametrically opposed styles. While noting that all five ladies were in their own way popularisers of Irish song (and their semi-traditional way of singing even non-traditional material ensured that this got fed back into the tradition almost by default), the series also points up the contrasts between them, from the raw, but completely natural street-singer Maggie to the soaring, classically sweet bel-canto soprano and elegant harpistry of Mary; the wild, unbridled charm of Delia to the lift-the-stage persona and come-all-ye inclusiveness of Bridie and the all-pervading purity of tone and Hollywood-style artistry of Ruby.
Now, one may initially be disappointed that the series (and therefore the DVD too) contains no complete performances of individual songs, either by the original artists or by Fil herself - although it's perfectly understandable in view of the programmes' remit and the necessary time constraints of the format. The companion Songbirds CD, being available separately, should thus by rights be the answer to one's prayers, and to a large extent it is. The first thing to note is that it is indeed both entirely complementary to, and a logical development from, the DVD. To be sure, even if you've not viewed the DVD it stands alone as a totally lovely collection of songs, affectionately performed by Fil in her characteristically warm, sensitive yet commanding vocal style (someone once dubbed Fil "a third McGarrigle", and not without some justification). The songs all suit her down to the ground, and she luxuriates mildly in the expression of these old-fashioned sentiments (the DVD extracts show just how much she revels in singing them, but you can hear it on the audio tracks too). Fil also benefits enormously from the gently-conceived and ultra-sympathetic musical accompaniment courtesy of a worthy crew that includes her percussionist-husband Tom McFarland, James Blennerhassett (bass), Brendan Emmett (guitars, mandolin, banjo), Seamus Brett (keyboards) and Brendan Monaghan (uilleann pipes, whistles). There are some special guests too, notably Sean Keane who duets with Fil on Love's Old Sweet Song (Just A Song At Twilight) and Tommy Sands on What Would You Do Love?, with star instrumentalists Steve Cooney, Finbar Furey and Laoise Kelly providing key contributions to individual songs. I might well single out Steve's embellishments for special mention, but truth to tell they're all exemplary in their taste and ambience. Fil can through her own masterful reinterpretations justifiably lay claim to being a contemporary equivalent of the celebrated "first ladies", you might say.
However - and here's the rub - although all of the 15 songs on the CD occur in brief snippet form during the course of the six TV programmes, there are several more songs (including My Lagan Love, The Bonny Boy, Johnny The Daisy-O, Farewell But Whenever and Seoladh Na nGamhna) of which extracts are tantalisingly performed on the DVD, but which don't appear on the CD at all. I realise that the CD is over an hour long already, but it's a glorious length and I for one would easily have welcomed extra tracks. More in the way of a missed opportunity though, surely the bonus-material space on the DVD could better have been used for these additional songs (instead it presents five audio-only tracks taken from two of Fil's previous studio albums and unrelated to the Songbirds project).
One other, more minor point regarding the CD: although all the songs included therein are taken from the repertoires of the various singers portrayed, the booklet notes don't always specify which singer is primarily associated with which song. We all know of Delia's recordings of If I Were A Blackbird, What Would You Do, Love?, The Connemara Cradle Song and The Moonshiner; some of us will remember Mary's recording of The Castle Of Dromore; The Spinning Wheel was recorded by both Delia and Mary; and Ruby's Softly, Softly was but one of her five Top 20 hits in just one week in 1955! But as for the remainder, well without having seen either the TV series or the DVD we're left guessing just a bit (tho' you won't necessarily think that matters a lot when several of the songs were common to more than one of the singers). In any case though, Fil's own lovingly-turned performances are likely to inspire listeners to investigate the original recordings of the "first ladies".
The above reservations notwithstanding, the whole project (DVD and CD) has proved immensely worthwhile; the discs are great value as they stand, and all credit to Fil and Tom for their initiative and skill in producing what amounts to such an intensely rewarding and treasurable experience: both highly charming and uniquely comforting, and perfect fireside entertainment on all counts, I'd say.
David Kidman December 2008
Grant Campbell - Postcards From Nowhere (Luna)
Glasgow born but with his spirit clearly raised in the mid-West, Campbell's debut solo album shows he's clearly picked up a few tricks and influences from years supporting the likes of The Handsome Family, Mary Gauthier and Johnny Dowd. He's never opened for Springsteen but you'll hear Bruce ringing out in there too, most notably on the Nebraska flavoured The Day Your Luck Ran Out where he seems to be going in for a soundalike contest.
Elsewhere his weary waltzing and Texas desert dustiness might find yourself thinking of a Celtic infused Steve Earle or Tom Pacheco but, strangely, also Mark Knopfler.
Though his tendency to try and bring a throaty American twang to the double tracked vocals sometimes sounds overdone, it's an impressive first outing that, with such songs as Church House, Restless Blues, Last Standing Renegade and the brushed waltzing Broken Jukebox King marks him as a voice and writer to watch.
Mike Davies
Following her collaboration with Mark Lanegan, for her new label debut the former Belle and Sebastian cellist has come over all folky, looking to recreate that leafy, cobwebby pastoral sound on a collection of self-penned and traditional numbers. It's suitably sparse and spectral with arrangements employing percussion, flute and cello, at other times leaving her vocals exposed and naked, but, as is quickly made evident by the opening O Live Is Teasin' and Willows Song (previewed on the soundtrack to the Wicker Man remake), her fragile voice isn't necessarily best suited to the pagan darkness of trad English folk.
Take that old standard Reynardine, a song long associated with Sandy Denny, where her fey, wispy reading robs the song of its dark sensuality while Hori Horo cries out for something of less gossamer persuasions.
However, that's not to decry the whole album. Imbued with grace, there are some fine moments here. Her self-penned Yearning, with what sounds like a crumhorn in the background, is a lovely medieval courtly dance number, James a frisky instrumental tumble on the acoustic guitar while the title track offers a fine instrumental showcase for her cello playing, complemented by tinkling harp.
Likewise, the original Cachel Wood is a lovely apple orchard scented summery romantic frolic by the waterside, while her whispering a capella Loving Hannah has a rough edged innocence that compensates for the limited vocal colours and is offset by the album's closing brace of tracks, the stormclouded ominous dissonant instrumental Over The Wheat and the Barley and the narcotic haze of Thursday's Child. It works better as the "hobby album" she's called it rather than an attempt to compete with the current masters of the tradfolk revival, but there's certainly some twisted beauty in its roots.
Mike Davies November 2006
Formerly of Belle & Sebastian, the feathery voiced Scottish chanteuse has joined forces with rough-throated ex Screaming Trees/Queens of The Stone Age singer Mark Lanegan. Given the strong Americana flavours of the album, it's not much of a surprise that their mix and match of honey and gravel plays like a latter day answer to Lee Hazlewood and Nancy Sinatra. Well, no problems there then.
It's a moody, desert nights on the border album, The False Husband sounding a perfect fit for some David Lynch movie with its snaky melody, breathed vocals and the balance between twangy guitar and light strings that counterpoint each of their verses while a clattering shuffle cover of Hank Williams' Ramblin' Man as she whispers in your ear over his dusty moan is clearly on the lookout for a Tarantino soundtrack.
It's also darkly atmospheric, wreathed with twisted folk shadows and cracked country vines (Black Mountain marries a Parsley, Sage melody line to Appalachian gothic textures) with Lanegan's recent immersion in Johnny Cash's American Recordings apparent on the likes of the title track, his own new song Revolver and the closing The Circus Is Leaving Town.
It's not all bottom of the boots stuff though, (Do You Wanna) Come Walk With Me is a lovely summery two step love song and Honey Child What Can I Do opens the door to let the breeze, light and a hint of 60s Motown in to a hopeful sad heart. The problem is, of course, that Lanegan's voice is so mesmerising and Campbell's so airy, that she's almost invisible on her own album.
Mike Davies, February 2006
Apparently written on the hoof as ideas struck rather than her usual approach of mulling themes over before committing them to paper, Campbell's twelfth album - and striking affirmation of her American folk roots - comes with a parcel of literary, historical and spiritual inspirations.
Backed by scraping fiddle, with references to Moses in the wilderness and drought struck farmers, and sounding like it should have been a centrepiece on the Oh Brother soundtrack, Falling Out Of Heaven borrows its title phrase from Langston Hughes poem Daybreak in Alabama, tender love song More Than One More Day was inspired by Joan Didion's The Year of Magical Thinking and the plaintive hymnal Sorrowfree (featuring Spooner Oldham on piano) has its origins in Harper Lee's To Kill A Mockingbird.
That book's setting in turn finds a thematic connection with the bluesy spiritual Color Of Love, a song commissioned by Gene Cheek to accompany the audio version of his book of the same name, an autobiography of growing up in the Jim Crow South. There's resonance from American history too in the aching Fordlandia where, with Nanci Griffith on harmonies, she recounts Henry Ford's failed attempt to build a tyre factory in the Amazon. It's no thematic accident that it follows directly on from Welcome To Ray, a banjo dappled elegy for a smalltown "bulldozed into clay" where all that remains is the welcome sign.
Another American icon fuels the church organ backed gospel Everybody Knows Elvis which links Presley and Jesus in a meditation on loneliness and the unknowable. The latter makes a repeat appearance on Looking For A Jesus which, in a duet with John Prine and featuring a clarinet solo, addresses the blurring of the spiritual and the commercial in the contemporary quest for faith.
Keeping religion in view, the upbeat, uptempo twangy Americana of Shining Like The Sun (with producer Walt Aldridge's ringing 12 string in shimmering form) is based on the epiphany of Trappist monk Thomas Merton while, revisited in band form from 2006's For the Living Of These Days (which also included a Merton-inspired song), Dark Night of the Soul is informed by the writings of Saint John of the Cross and Teresa of Avila. Oh yes, and lest I forget, the title track's musing on the relative importance of what we need and what we desire derives from a quote by New York Presbyterian author Frederick Buechner. With Back To The Moon, a witty but disposable observation on American consumerism, the only blip, this makes a persuasive argument for being Campbell's finest recording since Monuments.
Mike Davies May 2009
The greatest gift of Kate Campbell's For The Living Of These Days is that it's so well played and simply produced, that it becomes all things to all men. With it, Kate Campbell has recorded a celebration. It's a celebration of her faith, a celebration of her spirit and it's also a celebration of the power and effect music can have. Even for those who perhaps don't follow the album's core message, Kate Campbell is a passionate artist and, with the legendary Spooner Oldham alongside her, she will enchant and move you, whatever it is you believe.
If this were 'merely' a collection of folk songs the strength of Campbell's voice, magnified by the clarity and directness of the songs, would be enough to make it a great one. But it is a gospel album and as such it is a slightly humbling experience. Faith to Kate Campbell is not just a set of rules to live by, Without Him is a cry from the heart, completey open, completely honest and utterly compelling. But, as it should be, it is also a thought-provoking album, Woody Guthrie's Jesus Christ, Kris Kristofferson's They Killed Him and Would They Love him In Shreveport pose disturbing and fundamental questions. Kate Campbell's religion is challenging and direct not wide-eyed and 'happy clappy', one sad conclusion to be drawn from those three songs is that, 2,000 years on little has changed.
As a spiritual album For The Living Of These Days works beautifully, as a secular album it questions. What more can you ask of it.
Michael Mee, Editor Hawick News, October 2006
Kate Campbell - Blues and Lamentations (Large River Music)
Having revisited her back catalogue for acoustic versions of live favourites last time round, for her tenth album Campbell's finally back behind the pen producing new material for a musical journey through the emotional state the blues represents rather than any geographical route map. As she says on the opening Miles of Blues, "the delta ain't the only place you might find sorrow on some face".
No gutbucket stuff here then (though she does sing 'that's all right mama' at one point on Genesis Blues) , rather her familiar mother lode of folk, Southern country, gospel and pop recorded in one takes with strict acoustic instrumentation to deliver a potent organic feel that's well attuned to Campbell's rich, loamy voice.
Filtered through songs of folk surviving hard times and their relationship to the land, the roots of blues in slavery finds expression in Freedom Train which moves from an image of Moses guiding the Israelites from Egypt to runaway slaves seeking the promised land, hounded by dogs and inspired by Harriet Tubman while Free World yearns for an acre of ground of one's own to plough.
Three covers flesh out her own material; the trad Pans of Biscuits with Guy Clark helping out on vocals, Trixie Smith's jazzy Mining Camp Blues and, unaccompanied save for a tambourine shaker, Jessie Mae Hemphill's chanting gospel Lord, Help The Poor and Needy.
Not that her own work needs bolstering. Peace Comes Stealing Slow which closes the album in fine form and features harmony from Maura O'Connell, is inspired by the WB Yeats poem, prayers by a young soldier and a homeless girl to find salvation from the world's trials and tribulations while the quietly soaring Fade To Blue describes a man who, every night, caresses the photo of his lost love.
The best though are Shallow Grave and Wheels Within Wheels. The former is a haunting lament and prayer for payback by woman whose heart has been left dead and buried by her callous lover while, underpinned by a good old Dixie slow march melody, the latter, surely destined for staple status and a wealth of cover versions, is based on the true story of Burrell Cannon. A Texas preacher in 1902, inspired by the Bible, he allegedly pre-empted the Wright Brothers by inventing a flying machine, Ezekial's Cannon, that flew once before being demolished en route by rail to the World's Fair leaving Cannon to determine God never intended man to fly. I'm not sure that, as an album, it's quite up there with her defining Monuments, but it's only shade away.
Mike Davies
Kate Campbell - The Portable Kate Campbell/Sing Me Out/Songs From The Levee (Compadre)
Campbell devotees had better have deep pockets because here's not one but three new albums. Well, two and a bit if we're being accurate. Marking a move to her new label, the bit is a remastered reissue of her 1994 debut with four bonus acoustic mix versions that includes as Trains Don't Run From Nashville and Bury Me In Bluegrass plus an alternate take of Like A Buffalo. Nice to have, but not essential. The other two albums though are much more significant. It's not new material but, produced by Will Kimbrough, they contain re-recordings of songs that have proven live favourites over the past 10 years, one with a band and the others wholly acoustic. Actually there's more to it than that.
Portable is a musical photo album of the South, a tangle of contradictions, memories and landscapes that offer the empty mansions and hillside gravestones of Wrought Iron Fences, of widows and lonely dogs (Moonpie Dreams), beloved old cars (Galaxie 500 with Nanci Griffith on harmony), crazy dreams (Bud's Sea-Mint Boat) and childhood confusions about segregation and civil rights (Crazy In Alabama, Bus 109).
Here are songs of the South's lost promises (Visions of Plenty, an achingly hymnal Look Away), yearnings for more innocent times (a Southern funky blues When Panthers Roamed In Arkansas), regrets (a lonesome Elvis looks back on his days back home in Tupelo's Too Far), the security of love (Rodney Crowell duet A Perfect World), wistful stories of bruised souls seeking escape (the girl off to See Rock City before it's too late, the cigar factory girl in Rosa's Coronas) and, most personally, poignant recollections of mom and Rosemary Clooney (Rosemary).
Sing Me Out, on which she's backed by Kimbrough, Dave Jacques, Pat Buchanan and Chris Carmichael on assorted stringy things and the odd harmonica and harmonium but no percussion, is less specifically themed in terms of landscape and location, but remains firmly reflective and rooted in songs of hope, faith and belonging.
Here then are the uplifting Heart Of Hearts, the burping Jesus and Tomatoes, Older Angel's prayer for guidance from someone who's been round the block, Ave Maria Grotto (a lovely story of devotion about a man who built a grotto from shells and broken china), the prodigal daughter welcomed home In My Mother's House, bluegrass preacher tale Signs Following, the man following God's calling and his mama's wishes in Would You Be A Parson, and Delmus Jackson, an affecting account of the simple, honest black custodian of the local church content in knowing he'd one day be welcomed by the Lord.
Death's here too in all its pain and loss; on the bluesy gospel Sing Me Out a man still mourns the death of his wife's illegitimate young daughter thirty years earlier while on the heartbreaking Who Will Pray For Junior a recently widowed mother worries about who will care for the child she more late in life when she passes away, and the jauntily closing Funeral Food notes how somehow a funeral nosh up always seems to attract those friends and relatives that never managed to pay a visit in life.
Superbly played, throughout, Campbell's achingly honest voice rings clear with the sense that these are folk and places that she not only knows, but which are a very part of the blood and history that runs through her veins and keeps her heart beating. It's enough to make you start checking the property prices.
Mike Davies
Kate Campbell - Monuments (Evangeline)
The arrival of Gillian Welch has somewhat overshadowed Campbell's Southern Gothic brand of storytelling with its roots in the tradition of Faulkner and Flannery O'Connor (and musically speaking Mickey Newbury), but as this, slightly more electric guitar driven album ably demonstrates it hasn't dulled her muse.
Inspired, most specifically on the opening William's Vision, by the folk-carvings and monumental sculptures of William Edmondson, the first African-American artist to have a solo show at New York's Museum of Modern Art and veined with images of the South and her formative years as a Baptist minister's daughter spent amid the civil rights movement, this isn't as dark as some of her earlier work despite the frequent allusions to death.
Progress doesn't impress her much, Corn In A Box an ironic comment on cloning and genetic engineering, New South a cynical observation on the 'improvements' brought by the likes of Disneyworld, Coca Cola and Italian loafers set to a New Orleans march. The past - and its passing - though clearly rings an ache in her heart as evidenced by Petrified House, the emotionally affecting Joe Louis' Furniture and Walk Among Stones, a tribute to Muscle Shoals where "for one shining moment they made hit records for the world." No coincidence that among the musicians featured on the album you'll find the legendary Spooner Oldham.
Her voice (at times akin to Kathy Mattea) crystal pure, her storytelling resonant, her heart woven from compassion, pride, dignity and spirituality, Campbell remains one of the most important voices and writers of her generation and birthright.
Note: while you're ordering a copy of this you should make it a double blessing and grab a copy of her last little publicised album, Wandering Strange (released via Eminent), her gospel album that features four of her own songs, including Bear It Away about the four girls killed in the Sixteenth Street Baptist Church bombings in Birmingham, alongside covers of Gordon Lightfoot's The House You Live In and such gospel stalwarts as Jordan's Stormy Banks, William Cowper's There Is A Fountain.
Mike Davies
That energetic young Scottish piper, flautist/whistle player and singer can always be trusted to produce something brilliant, and this time his solo album is especially well named, for it's an exciting and yes, somewhat intrepid (in the sense of ultra-adventurous and often unexpected) collection of vocal and instrumental tracks that always feels like it's going somewhere purposeful and draws you effortlessly in with its flow. Rory's a busy guy right at the moment, being a key constituent of the mighty band NUSA of course and also now a fulltime member of Old Blind Dogs alongside guitarist Jonny Hardie - fellow NUSA man who, coincidentally, along with NUSA/Mystery Juice drummer Donald Hay, guests on this very album. The identity and known musical character of the personnel involved in what might otherwise seem just a basic trio lineup will give more than a clue to the extraordinary character of this record, fantastically light and airy with plenty of room around the players and yet lacking in neither nuance nor depth of feeling. The record's biggest ear-opener for me was the discovery of just how attractive - and versatile - a singer Rory is, capable of tackling anything from Gaelic song (and at a fast lick too!) on Song Of The Moccasins, to Björk's intriguing Jöga, via two (I think) songs of his own. And then of course there's the purely instrumental tracks, on which Rory and his gang cope equally easily and felicitously with Corinna Hewat's funky Bass Strathspey set, a medley of Breton gavotte with Northumbrian polka, a Galician muiñeira and pasodoble, and a somewhat strange variation on bluegrass (Cotton-eyed). The arrangements neatly yet flexibly straddle the divide between traditional and contemporary, with the lithe textures giving both the music and the musicians ample room to breathe. And (here's a bonus for some!) the pipes are never overbearing. So Rory's bravery has really paid off here, producing a great showcase for his energetic music-making.
www.rorycampbell.co.uk
www.nusa.co.uk
David Kidman February 2008
www.nusa.co.uk
www.verticalrecords.co.uk
David Kidman
Shelley Campbell - Blue Ridge Reveille (Nettwerk)
Originally released in Canada two years ago under the name of Auburn, it's now been rebranded for a UK reissue to put the spotlight on frequent Radiogram collaborator Campbell. Based in Vancouver but born in rural Ontario, raised on mixture of evangelical Christianity and Native American culture (her missionary father was an honorary chief of the Mohawk nation) and music that included Tennessee country as well as soul, African and the gospel of the regular revival meetings they attended.
It's all come out the other end as a Lucinda, Dolly and De Ment like blend of bluegrass and backporch country, Campbell's achingly pure crooning (and occasionally world wearily smokey) vocals over songs of lost loves, truckstops, Civil War graveyards, and backwoods nights, complemented by strummed guitar, banjo, fiddle and pedal steel.Drivin' You opens the set in fine form, setting the album's dominant slow waltz tempo and melancholic yearning mood as things move on through the Appalachian ambience, Is It You? (which also appears in a bonus duet version with Radiogram's Ken Beattie) adding a flicker of honky tonk torch while the likes of Unsatisfied (a definite hint of Parton here), Beautiful Child (Texicali flavoured), Porchswing and the warbling title track chime with the sort of old school traditional country musical values upon which people like the Louvins were raised.
She may not arrive in the UK accompanied by the same buzz of recent country songbirds, but once ears latch on to the simple gems it contains, the excellent bittersweet waltzing New Year's Eve At The Legion in particular, she's going to find herself lauded up there with Laura Cantrell.
Mike Davies
Harking back to the 70s folk tradition and apparently designed to evoke old British vocal traditions such as church hymns, communal singing and folk ballads, the trio's fifth album takes rather more work than usual. Partly this is because the tracks, themselves rarely longer than three and a half minutes, are punctuated by three brief 'field recordings' of guitar instrumental fragments and the unaccompanied sea shanty Wesley that, while delightful in their own right, feel awkward in the overall structure. Likewise, touches such as the mingling of Eastern rhythms and drones with bluegrass shades that percolate through When The Rose From The Weeds, The Everlasting Arm, Tiny Tim and Avro No 1 seem at odds with their prevailing English trad folk colours.
That said, there's moments of immediate loveliness. An upbeat, catchy meeting place between CS&N, Simon & Garfunkel and Don Partridge, Amsterdam is a banjo picking love song to the joys of backpacking freedom while Cast Into The Storm is a nigh acapella sea shanty hymn with handclaps and hurdy gurdy psychedelia fade out.
Persistence also brings rewards with Tiny Tim slowly revealing itself to be a delicate broken hearted song that could have Snow Patrol fans in a swoon while the opening Furlough is a soaring dark folk lullaby and both the gently waltzing Harryhausen and Swear It Will Snow splice English pastoral moods with country sways and West Coast harmonies. Oddly, the breathily acoustic Marie Alexander calls to mind nothing less than Floyd's Dark Side of the Moon album. Those looking for other touchstones might hear shades of Matthews Southern Comfort to On Every Stone.
On the penultimate, slightly hippie-like anthemic The Sky, they turn into The Polyphonic Spree and sing 'we're wasting our time again, but we make beautiful stuff. And that might be enough'. For those prepared to spend the effort looking, it might just be.
www.candidatesite.co.uk
www.myspace.com/candidateband
Mike Davies, Sept 2007
Candidate - Under The Skylon (Snowstorm)
Following up an album based around the Wicker Man was always going to pose a few problems, wanting to hold on to the swell of interest it had created but not wishing to restrict themselves by repeating the thematic concept. So what they've done is to use the skyscraping South Bank's sculpture that featured prominently in the 1951 Festival of Britain (hence the instrumental intro May 4th, 1951) before being dismantled by the new government as inspiration and metaphor for the construction and destruction of a relationship.
Looking for a bigger sound than the simple arrangements of Nuada, using Neil Young, Big Star and The Hollies as their inspirational guidelines, the result is, perhaps inevitably, a ride through emotional ups and downs on songs that variously afford country jangles, 60s pop harmonies and surges of sonic guitar storms.
They set a high standard for themselves from the outset with Going Outside, a marvellous train rhythm psychedelic folk number that calls to mind Men Without Hats, and then proceed to not only maintain but exceed it with such tumbling nuggets of clearwater effervescence as the jubilantly in love Gardens, the acoustic strummed Moving An Oil Rig and the Young-like Lay Me On The Line.
You want soaring anthemic crescendos, try Nothing Between Us But Sky or A Lifetime From Now; feel like a witty use of imagery for fading love, that'll be Mountain Snow; trad folk sounding despair? - here's Falling Leaves; want to put a goodbye song on repeat play until your heart recovers, select Glass Skylon. In short, another fine album from one of the still most criminally undervalued bands in the country. They get my vote though.
Mike Davies
As movie buffs will realise, the title comes from the name of the sun god worshipped by the islanders in cult 1972 British horror film The Wicker Man. With the depressing news that a remake is afoot starring Nicolas Cage, here's something to cheer, a concept modern folk album inspired by both the film's themes and Paul Giovanni's haunting score.
Immersing themselves in the film's atmosphere by staying in the same hotel used by Edward Woodward's character, meeting the locals and recording in such scene setting west Scotland locations as a deserted church and between the legs of the wicker man prop on the brow of a cliff, they returned home to assemble their musical thoughts and sufficiently impressed Bert Jansch to have him contribute a guitar solo on the instrumental Burrowhead.
The result's a pastoral earthy folk album but one veined with hints of darkness, evidenced from the start with Barrel of Fear and later on the in times of trouble hymnal Save Us, and reflecting the film's pagan themes on the three part vocal structured fertility ballad Sowing Song. They know how to craft folk music these boys. Listen to the instrumental Tomorrow's Tomorrow where haunting flute plays against the finger-picked guitar with its aural images of leafy glades and running streams. Beautiful Birds is a wholly successful attempt at writing a modern day middle ages lament for a distant lover (what the band terms of a medieval Wichita Lineman) while Song of the Oss (named for Hobby Horse that features in Padstow's Mayday revels) is another instrumental, a joyous celebratory folk dance tune, before moving into the sexual awakening themed Circle of Ash, a number that begins with ominous trepidation but slowly swells with added harmonies, to become a song of exultation.
The gently crooning Rain On The Roof switches traditions somewhat with its banjo/guitar structure, although the use of harmonium brings it home from Appalachia and into age old English churches. Island 34 is another guitar instrumental, bracing with coastal salty breezes and the taste of loam, and the whole thing comes to the end credits with Modern Parlance, a simple stomping slow frenzy clump around the dance hall with more guitar and banjo, horns, one long unending bass note rumble, woozy chorus vocals (inspired apparently by a drunken session singing Creeque Alley) and ending on the same three held notes as in the film's origial score.
Like all good folk songs, the lyrics speak as much of living now and of the writers themselves as the ostensible subject matter that inspires them, and while there's not a Carthy, Waterson, Rusby or Lakeman in sight, it fully warrants being up there in the running when it comes to considering the genre's finest achievements. The album also comes with a CD-Rom documentary detailing the band's visit to the Wicker Man's locations and their thoughts on the project.
Mike Davies
Noddy Holder famously said - It's Christmasssssssssssss" and each year we get a raft of Christmas related albums and singles to listen to for a couple of weeks before discarding. Blues rock legends Canned Heat are no different to most bands and have released an album that spans history. There are two versions of the band here with three tracks from the original, and best loved, line-up. The bands first delve into Christmas records happened when Skip Taylor met Ross Bagdasarian of Chipmunks fame in 1968 and they decided that it would be a good idea to have The Chipmunks record with The Heat. The result was The Christmas Song and it is so surreal. It has its humorous moments as the Chipmunks butt in and I think that by not using this song, the advertising people have missed a great opportunity with the new Chipmunks movie coming out for the holiday period. However, they did not miss the chance to use Christmas Blues for a Heineken advert from 2003 to 2005. There are three versions of the song on offer, a standard 12 bar blues, a painfully slow, grungy alternative version with harmonica on form and Dr John on piano and a more upbeat bonus live version with Eric Clapton guesting on guitar and John Popper from Blues Traveller on harp and vocals. Other tracks include seasonal favourites Deck The Halls and Jungle Bells, both given the Canned Heat treatment. Nothing is sacred as the boys turn their attention to Boogie Boy (Little Drummer Boy) and the Christmas cheer is spread with lines such as 'children need to guns when we got the boogie'. Another well known track is Santa Claus Is Coming To Town and this is turned into a swinging instrumental but they also give us Santa Claus Is Back In Town, which is a rousing boogie. Add a classic Heat boogie on Christmas Boogie and a tearful barroom blues, I Won't Be Home For Christmas, and you've just about covered all of the holiday emotions. Don't Worry, Santa will soon be here.
David Blue December 2007
David Kidman
Canned Heat - Friends In The Can (Ruf Records)
"Don't Forget To Boogie!" said Fito de la Parra (drums, vocals) band leader of Canned Heat. Canned Heat certainly haven't. Despite the untimely deaths of three members of the band - Alan (Blind Owl) Wilson in 1970, Bob (The Bear) Hite in 1981 and Henry Vestine in 1997, Heat have stayed true to their mid-60s roots and have cooked up regular servings of timeless boogie and blues. No one will ever forget their joyful scene-setting and era-defining Goin' Up The Country from the film Woodstock but - as is often the case when a band keeps on going - some albums are more memorable and satisfying than others. Friends In The Can is in the memorable and satisfying category.
It's a surprise package - it comes in a very collectable tin can. The German 1st edition from Ruf Records comes in a square one and the US version in a circular one. Inside is the music - driving boogie/ blues moved along by the band - now consisting of Stan Behrens (flute, saxophone, harmonica, vocals), Greg Kage (bass, vocals), Dallas Hodge (vocals, guitar), 'J.P.' John Paulus (guitar, slide-guitar) and the aforementioned Fito. Vocal and guitar leads are alternated between band members and some good friends and ex-band members (John Lee Hooker, Taj Mahal, Walter Trout, Corey Stevens), Robert Lucas, Henry Vestine, Harvey Mandel and Roy Rogers). Larry Taylor guests on upright bass and Mike Finnigan on organ.
There're some of the tastiest guitar solos I've heard in a long time - nothing really flamboyant, just straight-up quality with everyone and everything working together. It's a collaboration which celebrates 36 years of Canned Heat and pays tribute "to the band's major, musical influence ... John Lee Hooker" (listen to John Lee talking about Canned Heat on I'll Never Get Out Of These Blues Alive). There's their old favourite Let's Work Together (Wilbert Harrison), JLH's essential Little Wheel and plenty of original songs which sound like they've been around a long time. All wonderful stuff and bound to end up on my Top 20 list at the end of the year.
www.cannedheatmusic.com
www.rufrecords.de
Sue Cavendish
Laura Cantrell - The Hello Records (Spit & Polish)
It's good to see that Cantrell's profile and following is sufficiently established here to warrant the release of these 1996 recordings, produced by John Flansburgh of They Might Be Giants and originally only available through the subscription-only Hello Recording Club. It's just five tracks long, but provides a useful blueprint for the old school bluegrass and country albums that would eventually follow. Cellar Door, one of the first songs she wrote, jogs along like an old-tyme barnyard crooner with plinking mandolin, while the bluegrass again blooms on Roll Truck Roll, penned as an answer song to Red Simpson's same titled truck driver's tune. No Place For Me was initially begun as a female perspective country pop song for Garth Brooks, though, possibly because she decided he'd probably not record what sounds like a tale of emotional cruelty sung by a honky tonk devil and set to an old hymn tune, it never made it to his ears. Inspired by a friend's teleplay about a cursed high school, The Curse of Hook Mountain is probably best described as the theme tune to a 70s teen horror as written by the Be Good Tanyas. Finally, recorded live at a 1993 radio show broadcast from the presenter's back porch, Lee Harvey Was A Friend Of Mine is a cover of a song she found on a Homer Henderson single, a Guthrie-ish contribution to the who shot JFK debate as seen from the perspective of a young guy from Dallas who Oswald used to take fishing as a kid. Not essentials perhaps, but great to have around to provide a little formative history. It's also being released as part of a twin pack with When The Roses Bloom Again.
Mike Davies
It's been two long years since Cantrell made her debut with Not The Tremblin' Kind, prompting John Peel to pronounce it possibly his favourite album of his life. While this may have a bit impulsive, I'd certainly put it up there with the best albums I've heard in the past decade. Now the Nashville born, NYC based performer and regular host of weekly country show Radio Thrift Shop on Jersey City's WFMU returns with a second collection of covers and originals that prompt a case of the raptures all over again.
Working with many of the same musicians who played on the previous album, it's further evidence of her fondness for vintage country and a no fuss, no frills approach to socking it across. She's possessed of a pure and vulnerable voice that's part buttermilk, part crystal mountain stream and part sitting on the haystack with your best sweetheart as the fireflies flicker in the night air, and when she sings its like she's strumming the strings of your heart.
The covers range from the work of contemporary New York writers to a clutch of old timers. All The Same To You is a tumbling slice of breezy twangy pop from Joe Flood that features the great line "I'd like to buy the world an aspirin and slip it in their Coke," Don't Break The Heart with its ringing pedal steel tips the hat to Amy Rigby, the infectious Byrdsian Vaguest Idea with its cascading waterfall 12 string guitar comes courtesy of Dan Prater while Dave Schramm provides the slow swaying anti-war protest song Conquerer's Song.
Moving to the old timers, the war theme's picked up by the title track which buffs may well recognise as the old folk-hewn 'soldier singing to the girl he left behind' number attributed to A.P. Carter and recently recorded for but not included on the Wilco/Billy Bragg Mermaid collaboration Avenue under the belief it was a Woody Guthrie lyric.
Then Yonder Comes A Freight Train sees her kicking up a fine pair of bluegrass heels riding the rails of the old Jim & Jesse tune in a manner that just makes you want to shout out yeehaw.
The album closes with Oh So Many Years, a fabulous honky tonk waltz around the tearstained C&W ballad originally immortalised by Webb Pierce and Kitty Wells. It's Wells, of course, to whom Cantrell has been much compared, a point underscored by her own Broken Again.
As with her debut, while the covers may be quite magnificent, it's her own songs that are the brightest jewels. A disarmingly simple love song, the opening Too Late For Tonight musically reprises I'm Not The Tremblin' Kind as she sings "I've been sitting all night listening to my records...", then Early Years is a gentle bittersweet story of a naive young fan who falls for a singing star and gets her heart broken when things turn sour, set to a break for the border flavour with Iris DeMent colours. And finally in an all too small a selection, there's the Appalachian biosong Mountain Fern, the story of 40s hillbilly singer Molly O'Day who, just to keep the baton passing thread in motion, was a major influence of Kitty Wells.
There's no glitz, no razzle, no big PR generated hype, no tabloid tales to tell. There's just the music. Cantrell needs nothing else. She's the real thing.
www.lauracantrell.com
www.wfmu.org/audiostream
Mike Davies
Laura Cantrell - Not The Tremblin' Kind (Spit & Polish)
Nashville born, New York based and released on a Scottish label, Cantrell had her own Big Apple radio show on WFMU where she hosts the influential Radio Thrift shop basically playing the sort of stuff she's into. Translate that approach to performance and you'll find her leanings towards the Nanci Griffith, Emmylou and Lucinda Williams collections, though with a rougher vocal edge that mixes some ground glass with the molasses.
For the album she's trawled songs by New York artists she's heard live, most notable being George Usher's title track, Amy Allison's classic honky tonker The Whisky Makes You Sweeter, Dan Prater's Do You Ever Think Of Me which sounds like the Mavericks should have gotten there sooner, and Somewhere, Some Night, an old school Nashville country tune from Melba's brother Carl Montgomery.
However, gems though these may be, they're rhinestones compared to Cantrell's own skewed road song Churches of the Interstate and Queen Of The Coast, a tale of a downwardly mobile ageing country singer that could have been found in Gram Parsons attic.
Mike Davies
Enterprising Scottish label Footstompin' Records never lets us down! Their latest release comes from a new five-strong outfit arising from the Edinburgh session scene, Cantrip, which comprises John Bews and Gavin Marwick (fiddles), Dan Houghton (Border and Highland pipes, flutes, whistles, bouzouki), Cameron Robson (guitar, bouzouki, banjo) and Ian Willis (percussion). Names that will be familiar in other contexts too I'm sure - think Iron Horse and Sandy Brechin, while John's also appeared on Malinky's latest album Three Ravens - so their personal credentials aren't in any doubt. Silver is a spirited and sprightly collection of tracks gathering up sources and influences ranging from trad Scottish and Irish through to Scandinavian and Breton, blended together really naturally and with buckets of wit and skill much in evidence in both the playing and the arranging. The aptness of the group name is everywhere conveyed on Cantrip's disc - it's a Scots word meaning an antic or piece of mischief, as the insert puckishly mentions in the notes to track ten. Compositions mix self-penned with traditional, as you might expect from such an eclectic display of musicianship. And what musicianship! - the weaving of the twa fiddles is a particular delight, while Ian's drumming syncopates delightfully yet fair keeps the listener's feet a-stompin', and the well-judged rhythmic and melodic input of the stringed instruments perfectly counterpoints the agile whistles and pipes. And even when the pace gets quite fast the playing's lyrical rather than frenetic. Three of the tracks are solo performances - All The Seasons In A Day pairs together two delicate guitar pieces by Cameron, while Dan's pipes provide the focus for the lament Cumha Gun Ainm and (naturally) the Highland Pipe Set. It's hard not to fall for Cantrip's infectious and individual brand of folk and roots musics.
David Kidman
Canyon - Empty Rooms (Wichita)
Out of Kansas City and now based in Washington, emerging from a defunct demo outfit singer-guitarist Brandon Butler and guitarist Joe Winkle joined forces with Derek DeBorja, Dave Bryson and Evan Berodt to form Canyon in 1999. Releasing their self-titled debut in 2001, this sophomore set now provides their first UK album, the sort of wasted lo fi country and psychedelia that makes Willard Grant Conspiracy sound like Little Richard.
With melodies that feel as if they were almost too much effort to construct and yet still paint a canvass of tension across the wide open spaces, they slope their way through influences as seemingly diverse as The Beatles, Jeff Buckley, REM, Townes Van Zandt, and, judging by parts of Mansion On The Mountain, even Quicksilver Messenger Service. However, while guitar distortions, sonic waves and, yes, sleigh bells, find their way into the tapestry, for the most part they weave their threads from a country loom of red streaked skies, dusty backroads, lap steel, drawled vocals and songs of loneliness and broken lives.
Harmonica wails on the nakedly sparse The Long Weekend, after hours barroom yearning drips from Other Show, Radio Driver and Lights Of Town, Ten Good Eyes the sort of roughshod soaring swayer Bob and The Band might have messed around with back in the early days, the simple closing rumble, thudding bass drum and echoey acoustic guitar of Shields, a melancholic hymnal evocative of Mickey Newbury. A grand Canyon indeed.
www.canyonrock.com
www.wichita-recordings.com
Mike Davies
They're back - with a new studio album at last (there'd been a long hiatus since 2003's Choice Language, partly due to recording plans being postponed when fiddle player Charlie McKerron broke his arm last year). Thankfully, it turns out to be a suitably strong offering that will cause the band's fans to welcome them back with open ears. As ever, Capercaillie major on creative reworkings of Gaelic song, and the opening track, Him Bò, is a very typical example - a cool, funky treatment of a puirt-a-beul with Karen Matheson's trademark super-smooth assured vocal delivery well to the fore. Unmistakable Capercaillie, as is the even more delightful clapping song from Barra which kicks off track 5, marrying lively energy with a modicum of restraint and a beautifully balanced instrumental backdrop with plenty of interest. A similarly seductive, delicious blending of acoustic textures occurs on the track 10 medley. Each track is blessed with a believable arrangement that's suitably refined - that may sound like I'm saying the album contains no new musical developments, but actually it feels as though there's a subtle evolution at work within that matter of internal balance I mentioned, for although the whole affair is faultlessly played and has an air of relaxed ease there's still an excitement, an edge to the playing and the group dynamics/interaction. As far as the repertoire is concerned, the balance is weighted heavily in favour of songs, with just three tune-sets interspersed; the latter trip along easily without seeming either unduly rushed or auto-pilot, and are characterised by the spirit of gentle innovation for which Capercaillie have always been noted. Of the vocal tracks, the mouth-music tracks are all predictably vibrant, and I also liked the contrasting finale, a gently passionate rendition of Murdo Macdonald's Leodhasach An Tir Chein which just about avoids bombast in its anthemic build-up to the close. Just two of the songs here are not in Gaelic, and the lyric of one of these (Donald Shaw's composition Soldier Boy) provides the album's title; the other, also on the same theme, is a powerful yet understated cover of John Martyn's anti-war song Don't You Go. Fine though these two unified tracks are, indeed the latter is possibly a standout in purely isolated musical terms, in the end they don't entirely fit with the rest of the album. In total I've got to say that on the evidence of the half-dozen plays I've managed to give it so far, Roses And Tears may yet rank as one of Capercaillie's best albums. It sure won't disappoint.
David Kidman
Capercaillie - Grace And Pride: The Anthology (Survival)
Cleverly subtitled "The Anthology 2004-1984", this fine two-disc, 2½-hour collection fast-forwards back in time in that very direction, beginning with three cuts from Choice Language and ending with (sadly) only one track apiece from the impossible-to-find mid-80s albums Crosswinds and Cascade, visiting each of the band's releases along the way in (for the most part) decently representative fashion and co-opting an unreleased set from the Nadurra sessions, one selection from the mail-order-only Glenfinnan release of 1995 and a couple of more obscure 12" remixes from the Delirium period along the way. No significant grouse there (sorry, couldn't resist!)… No mere cash-in either, just an honest attempt to celebrate the achievements of this leading Celtic band in bringing the concept of fusion out of the "dirty-word" status and into the forefront of creativity. Of course, it helps enormously that they've been blessed with two of the scene's most prized talents – the peerless, creamy voice of Karen Matheson and the instrumental dexterity and musical vision of co-founder Donald Shaw - but then again, countless superb musicians have passed through the band's ranks over that 20-year span, including Fred Morrison and Marc Duff, and not to need mentioning the now long-serving Messrs McKerron, McGoldrick, Lunny and Vernal from the current lineup. The set charts the band's progress from talented turbo-charged tune-merchants to purveyors of cutting-edge world/jazz-inflected Celtic music via their evangelical zeal in pioneering the bringing of Gaelic-language music to the masses - and expanding their inspiration even further before returning to their acoustic roots. A healthy dynamism and beauty go hand in hand in their sophisticated contemporary vision, whatever the musical material they treat, and this set really is worth playing end to end - for even if you're a fan and already have most of the original releases you're bound either to discover a fresh perspective or find joy in rediscovery. The blood is strong, indeed.
David Kidman
A vehicle for Philadelphia singer-songwriter Shai Halperin, now expanded into a full band project, this a fabulously schizophonic power pop affair. One minute they're chiming Byrdsian 60s psychedelic folk (Juicers) or chunky slouching rock blues (Giant Drunks) the next its Beatles nods (Going Down, Ramona) and Who influenced guitar riffery (Mounds of Money, Everyone Is A Skunk), while also lollopping on West Coast harmonies (Let Them Drink) and rocking out of the garage with Neil Young (Solid Gold). In the past Halperin's had to struggle against the predictable Strokes comparisons, but he's come of age here, confident enough to wrap up with a track called Watch It Not End (Stones) that deliberately recalls the slurry 60s country of Messrs Jagger and Co and Dirty Bitch which, defying titular expectations, reveals itself as a gentle laid back close harmony acoustic strum. Raise a glass.
Mike Davies
Before Katrina forced him and his family to relocate to Tennessee, the Alabama born singer-songwriter spent 20 years soaking up the vibes of New Orleans, clearly imbibing deep of bayou juice if the growly timbre of his voice and music is any indication.
Reminscent of early Waylon Jennings with hints of Delbert McLinton, Kristofferson, Tony Joe White and (on the honky tonking Jukebox especially) Johnny Cash, Capps draws on a life seasoned and stained by the personal and political for his storytelling.
The title track swamp stomper was inspired by the birth of son Waylon, Daddy's Eyes is a bittersweet nod back to an earlier failed marriage while the allegorical Waterhole Branch refers to a shoe burning Thanksgiving ritual annually hosted by his father Ronald. Trivia buffs will be aware that it was he who wrote Off Magazine Street, the novel that spawned the John Travolta/Scarlett Johannson film Love Song For Bobby Long, for which Capps Jr wrote the soundtrack.
If the quietly angry New Orleans Waltz offers his response to Hurricane Katrina and the political mud it stirred up, there's plenty of other local colour on the album too. New Orleans mythology pours through the verses of the bon temps swaggerer Poison that name checks Marie Levaux with Broomy a bluesy snapshot of a local homeless street sweeper. And, recognising the darker side of the Big Easy's streets, it's hard to imagine something like the drunkard's death lament cum celebration blues Ed Lee or the devil haunted Mermaid being spawned anywhere but among the bones of Southern gothic.
Raw, gritty, sharply observed and deeply felt, Capps deserves to be far better and wider known than he is. This might be the start.
www.graysoncapps.com
www.myspace.com/graysoncapps
Mike Davies January 2007
When I reviewed Cara's last CD Long Forgotten, I said it ensured that they wouldn't ever be! And yes, The Granary Steps is if anything even finer a demonstration of their thoughtful approach to Irish traditional music, responding first and foremost to its intrinsic beauty. When not purveying gentle, unhurried (yet still genuinely-felt) versions of actual tunes from the body of the Celtic Irish tradition, Cara take the sound, feel and structure of musical forms from that tradition and use it as a springboard for their own melodic inventions. Like its predecessor, The Granary Steps was recorded in Co. Roscommon, where Cara clearly feel thoroughly at home; the full sound and appealing blend of Mike Ryan (uilleann pipes, whistles, mandolin and guitar), John Rawlings (guitar) and David Oakley (violin, mandolin) here give us an hour of stimulating yet contented listening. This time, however, the trademark Cara sound is augmented on several tracks by a different guest contribution: the wonderful flute playing of Mick's Sligo cousin John Dwyer. Otherwise, The Granary Steps differs from Long Forgotten principally in that Cara only include one vocal track, which is rather a shame; The Shades Of Sweet Drumdoe (composed in the traditional style by Mick Corcoran and John Moran) is quite a lovely choice, and would prove to be one of the highlights of the new disc if the phrasing were just a little more confident in its early stages. Elsewhere, I won't go as far as to recycle the old quote that the abundance of beauty tires the soul, but the first half-dozen tracks do seem to merge into one continuous relaxed mood, and when the pace gets to pick up for a pair of jigs (The Jackpike/Down The Broom) and a further two comparatively uptempo tune-sets, this comes as a relief. There's one other aspect of this new CD with which I'm a little uneasy, and that is the actual recording, whereby there's a trace of distortion at times where instruments such as flute, fiddle and pipes seem to have been recorded at too high a level. I'm also unconvinced by what sounds like n artificial keyboard tone providing the countermelody on The Coolin (track 16). The disc goes out on a high though, with some fine mandolin work on The Andover Fist/Donegal Mazurka medley.
David Kidman February 2007
If you've never heard of Cara up to now, then you're in for a real treat – but look carefully, for they seem to hide their light under a bushel! Cara's a three-piece outfit based in North Lincolnshire, comprising Mike Ryan (uilleann pipes, whistle and mandolin), John Rawlings (guitar) and (Dave) Oakley (violin). They play "music from the Celtic tradition", which in their case means an unpretentious yet extremely well-chosen mixture of traditional and self-composed tunes and songs. I realise that description is bland, and could apply to zillions of bands, but believe me, Cara have a very special take on it all, for the gentle power of Cara's accomplished and thoughtful music-making wins you over immediately. On the slower pieces in particular (though not exclusively), you notice straightway the deeply loving way in which they approach the material, caressing the notes with a degree of real feeling that's born of proper understanding rather than any desire to over-emote for mere effect. Cara originally started out as a vehicle for exploring the potential for combining uilleann pipes and guitar, but listening to the wholly natural way in which Oakley weaves his abundantly lyrical fiddle lines round Mick's pipe melodies on tunes such as Bootyman's Umbrella, you'd think they'd been playing together all their lives!
The Cara sound is glorious and quite beautiful, yet with never a dull moment that might tempt the unwary off to sleep. On this, their third CD (get hold of Asleep Behind The Settee and The Notes In The Stones too, for a couple of hours' more sheer magic), again recorded over in Co. Roscommon, the trio are joined on a small handful of tracks by fiddle player Janey Beharrell, and the result is absolutely brilliant! The augmented Cara have a ball on a set of jigs composed by Janey herself, and later treat us to a rough-hewn, hell-for-leather rendition of The Mason's Apron. But I must mention the vocal tracks separately, for they're a rather unusual selection of songs for a group professing a bias towards the Celtic tradition. One More Day is sung with an attractively relaxed passion, while Grimsby songwriter Dave Evardson's classic lament North Wall is taken calmly and almost resignedly, seeming to play down the inherent bitterness of the lyric - yet the mood is consistently managed and in the end convinces, albeit on a different level. In complete contrast, there's the album's gently humorous number, Great Uncle's Warning, though perhaps Mike doesn't have quite the rumbustious vocal timbre needed to realise the song's fullest potential. Mike's final offering is the most successful: the title track's a really lovely, wistful and reflective composition on a timeless theme. All in all, Cara grace the airwaves with highly intelligent music-making, of a calibre you all too rarely encounter in bands playing this kind of repertoire. On this evidence, long forgotten is one thing Cara never will be.
David Kidman
Caramel Jack ...Performs songs from Low Story (World of Furr)
Mike Davies
Somewhere east of Paris and west of the Black Sea lies the nomad village of Plèchti, which has both its own defiantly cosmopolitan language and its own dedicated cultural ambassadors in the form of music and theatre group La Caravane Passe, who since 2002 have been purveying their irresistible brand of music at concerts and festivals throughout Europe (though I've not seen them in the UK). The quintet presents a unique, if truly bewildering melange of gypsy music with elements of klezmer, Balkan, cabaret, circus, belly dance, dub, rock, opera and serious party-animal, which can be as exasperating as it is exhilarating - moving real fast in a veritable whirlwind of activity, very theatrical and often quite intense yet also significantly creative. It's very exciting, but at the same time rather more highly disciplined than it might at first appear. Even so, it's not hard to feel overwhelmed and more than a little disoriented by the constant activity and the switching between idioms and languages (although, helpfully, a "dictionary" - glossary of a kind - is provided in the booklet). And some tracks teeter beyond the edge of parody - the falsetto tribute to (or should I say paraphrase of) the famous aria from Bizet's Carmen, for instance. There will also doubtless be times when you feel you're missing out on a lot by just having access to the audio track - as on the breakneck nutty-boys chattergun Miserlou/Bouge Bush (one of two bonus tracks recorded live), which borders on the incomprehensible. On the evidence of all the music on this CD though, La Caravane Passe are having loads of fun, and they're inviting their audience to do the same - so we're told, their live gigs are like a happy bordello, where they get folks up and dancing with abandon at the slightest provocation. Either way, you can't ignore the band's boundless energy and enthusiasm, nor their ability to win over audiences.
www.myspace.com/voyageentziganie
David Kidman November 2008
What a caper indeed – this is an hour-long compilation par excellence of sundry moments of glory from the ace squeezer's illustrious career-so-far, oh-so-care-fully assembled by Simon himself from his assorted musical ramblings as a kind of supplement to the superb Box Set collection of around six years ago. It's a salutary reminder, too, of just how many musical pies Simon's had his dextrous digits in: Edward II of course (now temporarily re-formed!), the Morris On Band, Tickled Pink, Cave, Whapweasel and not forgetting the Albion Band and its various collaborations and collectives, to name but a few (sorry if I've missed any out!). It features tracks from almost all of the above ensembles: some (the Whaps, Ashley Hutchings, Ashley's Big Beat Combo, Lark Rise Band, Albion Xmas Band, Cecil Sharp Centenary Collective and Morris On Band cuts) are taken from existing album releases, whereas others emanate from rare not-generally-released recordings and live tapes. And what a goldmine this latter category proves! There's a cajunny track from manic Tickled Pink guitarist Gerald Claridge's little-known solo album; an outtake from the Northamptonshire project Cobbled Together; a Care, Wilson & Fletcher number recorded at Cropredy; a high-octane Drowsy Maggie from a determinedly obscure film-library disc and with various Steeleye members in consort; and a had-to-be-there festival performance from classic '96-vintage Edward II. The all-encompassing artistry and dancing-feet-in-every-musical-camp versatility of the good Mr. Care couldn't be better demonstrated than on this great-listening, foot-tapping compilation.
David Kidman May 2009
This nicely lengthy (66-minute) anthology is culled both from existing studio albums and unreleased session and live tapes spanning the most recent half of well-respected Simon's 30-not-out (so far) as a melodeon player par excellence. Many similar compilations are little more than excuses for hasty recycling, but this one is care-fully compiled (sorry! - well, Simon did choose the tracks himself!), and plays really well in one sitting. Simon's own playing is always scintillating and idiomatic, and he enjoys a fine supporting cast to fuel his ambitions, though quite often on these cuts the main focus is on some other element of the individual ensemble, band or project than Simon's own contribution - as in Dave Burland's rendition of Richard Thompson's New St. George, Kellie While's Fall Back On You (from her Tenacious album) - and he even selflessly shifts the spotlight onto the guitarist on his own band Tickled Pink's rockin' shanty medley.
Simon's divided loyalties (betwixt Morris and cutting-edge dance fusion) veer from various Albion Band lineups to the Phil Beer Band to Edward II/e2K, but Simon's integrity and commitment remain intact throughout. Indeed, these all provide a salutary reminder of just how much each of the various lineups have benefitted from the consistency and quality of Simon's expertise and musicianship. Some fascinating curios unearthed here include a frantically cooking out-take from e2K's Shift album, a never-before-released (and undated) track by the Studio G Band (rather vaguely described as featuring "various Steeleye personnel and Steafan Hannigan" alongside Simon), and a superb Judy Dunlop Threats Medley. Simon himself has provided insert notes that take us through the tracks chattily and informatively, a perfect accompaniment to the listening experience on this, one box-based album that's a joy from start to finish.
David Kidman
He's been around has Frank. Back in the early 70s he played guitar for Peter Frampton, led his own band, recorded their debut album with the Stones' equipment and jammed with Led Zep, wrote a European hit for Johnny Hallyday, collaborated with Carly Simon and played US tour support to Bad Company. In the 80s he wrote, produced and provided backing vocals for Twiggy and in the 90s went on to team up with Annie Golden, recording two albums as Golden Carillo and appearing in the Meg Ryan movie Prelude To A Kiss. Come the new century he was part of Golden Earring and, more recently, toured as part of John Hammond's band. Now he's back with his own band again for an album of classic American guitar rock and country filters in the tradition of Southside Johnny, Tom Petty, Miami Steve and, at times, even early Graham Parker.
There's nothing here that will suddenly make him a superstar after thirty odd years of paying dues, but bang this into the stereo, pour and beer and crank up tracks like Everything Changes, the Springsteeneque double of Lucky and Somebody Poisoned The Well, a bluesy throated Someday, the piano boogie Gotta Be You or the closing stripped back, gravelly throated acoustic ballad Glass Heroes, and it's like having a dynamite bar band ripping up your back room. www.frankcarillo.comMike Davies March 2008
Born in Houston, dues paid in Galveston's Gulf Coast dives, Carll clicked with his self-released second album, Little Rock. Now, hooked up to one of Americana's leading labels, he's back for a third with a collection of Texas country-rock informed by such acknowledged influences as Townes Van Zandt, Guy Clark and Ray Wylie Hubbard and given musical muscle by guest players like Al Perkins, Will Kimbrough and Dan Baird.
Indeed, the twangy swagger of the marvellous Bad Liver And A Broken Heart sounds like a meeting between Clark and Baird's old band The Georgia Satellites.
A good time mood hangs around the album's shoulders, the songs stitched with observations from hard lived experience and the characters who've crossed his sightlines. Figures like the "barefoot shrimper with a pistol up his sleeve" in the low slung bluesy I Got A Gig, the wild lover who "likes to lay naked and be gazed upon" in the Hubbard co-written Drunken Poet's Dream, the banjo dappled love story of the Girl Downtown "with freckles on her nose, pencils in her pocket and ketchup on her clothes" and the lovelorn guy with the single white rose trying to win a hard heart in Beaumont.
Musically, he keeps pretty much to the template of southern honky tonk and barroom country, Faulkner Street even swinging like Billy Swan's I Can Help (albeit with a heft sample of Dion's The Wanderer), and from the likes of the slap-swing Wild As A Turkey and the Clark-sounding Knocking Over Whiskeys, you can bet he's done more than his share of sampling the wares as well as entertaining the customers.
Other than a fine slow country lurch cover of Tom Waits' I Don't Wanna Grow Up, all the material's self-penned, the songs revealing that, along with a keen eye, Carll also has a wry sense of tongue in cheek humour, framed no finer than on the final track, She Left Me For Jesus where a clueless redneck complains about his girlfriend dumping him for "that freak in his sandals with his long purty hair".It might not get him too many gigs in the irony free Bible belt, but he's always going to be welcome where they serve long tall cold ones.
www.hayescarll.com
www.myspace.com/hayescarll
Mike Davies May 2008
Hayes Carll - Little Rock (Highway 87)
Every time Hayes Carll hears himself mentioned in the same breath as Steve Earle he should allow himself a little smile of satisfaction.
Earle is not namechecked as the benchmark by which Carll will be judged, it's just that they are hewn from the same slab of rock. On this CD, Carll displays the same aching, burning, all consuming passion that is the trademark of the great man.
They also share the habit of presenting to the audience an almost impermeable face, Down The Road Tonight Is Carll at his devil may care, rabble rousing best.
But that 'rock face' proves to be something of a facade and, as it melts under the heat of songs like Take Me Away and Long Way Home, we find that, like Earle on My Old Friend The Blues, Hayes Carll hurts, bleeds and cries just like the rest of us. The only difference is that we do it in private he exorcises his (and our) ghost in the harsh glare of the public, eventually we feel as much for him as we do ourselves.
Little Rock extends the boundaries of its country home, Good Friends is a piece of warm nostalgic whimsy, ruing the passing of youth. On it Carll proves that death and taxes are not the only sure things in life because, at some time, we'll all look back and wonder where it all went. Carll provides the soundtrack for that inevitable moment.
While he is undoubtedly a serious musician and little Rock is an album of serious intent he is not a musician who takes himself too seriously. Amid the soul searching and introspection there are some wonderfully hilarious moments.
The album's title track comes from the fact that he was too late to make any money out of songs about Texas so had to move on to Arkansas. And there can't be too many collaborations with writers of the calibre of Ray Wylie Hubbard that have ended up with a song about chickens. The rationale behind it was that the pair felt that the world needed a song about chickens, and you know what? They were right.
Little Rock is one of those unpretentious albums that speaks volumes about the talents of its creator. If you're saying the right things, in the right way, you don't need to shout or wear a big hat and on Little Rock, Hayes Carll certainly says all the right things.
Michael Mee
Kim Carnes - Chasin' Wild Trains (Corazong)
Now based in Nashville, singer-songwriter Kim is currently enjoying a new lease of success, and this 2005 release, with its fresh and solid new-country vibe, is a very good example of her craft. Kim's gorgeous, smoky voice is heard to fine effect on this collection of well-contrasted, exclusively self-penned material. She's already got a proven track record for coming up with catchy melodies and immediate hooks, aligned to lyrics that come straight from the heart; her extensive writing and producing CV includes, in addition to her own run of top-selling albums in the 80s, work with Kenny Rogers and Jeff Bridges, and she's written hits for Reba McEntire and Vince Gill among many other illustrious country names. Chasin' Wild Trains demonstrates her keen ear for radio-friendly twang, and there's always the temptation to hit the repeat button after virtually any individual cut. Ranging from the uptempo strut of Just To See You Smile to the gospel-tinged If I Were An Angel, from the breezy determination of Too Far Gone to the beautiful, if forlorn Goodnight Angel and the delicate acoustic opener One Beat At A Time, all the moods of personal-angle country are present and very much correct. What's more, as you probably know by now, Kim has just the right quality of voice to do the songs full justice - forthright, throaty and husky, with plenty of presence; she's in really fine voice on this album, and it helps that her backing musicians are well endowed with all the necessary chops. No wonder too that country stars of the calibre of Kim Richey, Matraca Berg and Chuck Prophet were keen to contribute backing vocals. So, if you're looking for an accessible and satisfying straight-down-the-line new-country set with the personal touch that really delivers the goods, then look no further.
David Kidman
This month, the celebrated young African-American trio continue on their entirely laudable mission to reclaim their string-band heritage with an all-too-brief UK mini-tour, while releasing another CD to capitalise on the stir they caused with their Heritage compilation (already reviewed here at NetRhythms). Confusingly perhaps, then, all but one of the tracks making up Dona Got A Ramblin' Mind were recorded as long ago as 2006, and it would seem that three of the titles (Rickett's Hornpipe, Another Man Done Gone and Short Life Of Trouble) have already appeared on Heritage. Duplication aside, however, there's no sign at all of "having heard it all before", for the freshness of the performances and recordings fair leaps out at you with the excitement and immediacy of discovery. No need to fret about any rough edges or the occasional off-key moment, for their reworking of timeless traditional source material is exactly in the spirit and just what the doctor ordered - supremely soulful, and "choc" full of energy and commitment. Highlights include the charging opener Starry Crown, Rhiannon's acappella solo Little Margaret, and the jug-besotten treatment of Georgie Buck, while the full-steam-ahead drive of the ensemble work on cuts like Black Eyed Daisy is magnificent. As records go, this is overall a more cohesive set than Heritage, in that by and large it keeps to the trusty repertoire of traditional standards (aside from the bluegrassy waltz-time Short Life Of Trouble) – but what these guys do with that core repertoire is sometimes miraculous and quite often pretty stimulating - especially where Rhiannon's amazing vocal and/or fiddle work is to the forefront. Go catch up with CCD before they vanish back to the States.
www.carolinachocolatedrops.com
www.myspace.com/carolinachocolatedrops
David Kidman November 2008
It always struck me as ironic that, for a musical form that had its roots in the African-American community, there were only three black musicians featured on the Oh Brother soundtrack. A young trio comprising Dom Flemons, Rhiannon Giddens and Justin Robinson, the Carolina Chocolate Drops, (a riff on the Tennessee 20s outfit and would anyone not black get away with that name!) are dedicated to reclaiming their string-band heritage, even if they had to learn some of the songs from white hillbilly recordings.
Playing 4 and 5 string banjo, fiddle, resophonic guitar, jug, bones, snare and other percussion in trio, duo and solo permutations, recorded between 2005 and 2007 the 16 track set consists on traditional standards, Flemons' banjo adaptation of Schubert's Erlkonig (Earl King) and a setting of Banjo Dreams by Black poet Lalenja Giddens Harrington. Indeed, it's Lalenja and Rhiannon who get the ball rolling with their unaccompanied rendition of chain gang prison song Another Man Done Gone, Rhiannon taking a stunning solo spotlight (and sounding far older than her years) for Po' Lazarus, the folk hero tale that opened the Oh Brother soundtrack. Elsewhere, you'll be familiar with titles like Jack O'Diamonds (Robinson playing body percussion), bluegrass waltz Short Life Of Trouble, Real Old Mountain Dew and Flemons and Giddens' own slow tempo take on 30s blues standard Sittin' On Top Of The World.
Lesser know but no less invigorating tunes include rousing banjo and fiddle instrumental Rickett's Hornpipe with its martial snare beat from the fife and drum tradition, Lottie Kimborough-Beaman's 1928 Wayward Girl Blues, Don't Get Trouble In Mind, and a Flemons talking blues solo with Bye-Bye Policeman. Fittingly they end the album by going back to the roots with Gambia, a song taught to Rhiannon by a Senegalese troupe during her visit to West Africa and featuring her playing on the native akonting, one of the lute like instruments from which the banjo descended.
The CD also features a 10 minute video with the trio talking about the music and playing up a storm. Tremendous stuff. The trio play a short UK tour in November
www.carolinachocolatedrops.com
www.myspace.com/carolinachocolatedrops
Mike Davies October 2008
Michael Carpenter's a well-respected Australian studio producer, also a talented multi-instrumentalist who also plays in various bands. He's contributed to numerous tribute albums too over the past couple of years. As a singer-songwriter, Michael's released two solo albums to date already (Baby and Hopefulness), on which he played every instrument and sang every harmony, but now he fronts his own band, King's Rd.
This collection presents Michael backed by this basic three-piece live band lineup, but you wouldn't know it's only a three-piece because Michael plays everything else. The surprising thing, though, is that the whole album sounds less like a studio confection and retains a blistering live feel. It's a great listen, especially for that in-car time when you need to beat the road-rage - Michael utilises his innate gift for fine hooks with almost three-quarters of an hour's worth of decidedly classy power-pop that's much in the Tom Petty mould if you need a marker-point. It's over all too soon, and you just have to go play it through again.
But… notwithstanding all the above really positive vibes, on this showing at least I still find that Michael's music lacks that last little edge of memorability that would lift KingsRdWorks above the current glut of similarly styled, punchy and confident releases that on their own terms are more than worthy, highly competent and a breezy, satisfying way of spending anyone's 45 minutes. And I bet the band's a storming live act too.
David Kidman
A veteran journeyman of blue eyed English rock n roll, Carrack was the voice behind classic Ace hit How Long, part of Squeeze and can still occasionally be found adding vocals to Mike and the Mechanics. He maintains a respectable solo career too that, while not throwing up hit records, does support a solidly respectable base of loyal admirers. Filtering elements of Phil Collins, John Martyn and Paul Young into his smoky vocals, he variously leads from the front on guitar or gets behind the piano for the more ballad inclined numbers.
This career retrospective collection of his best moments (it says Greatest Hits, but that's pushing it) embraces such diverse numbers as the old Squeeze classic Tempted, a fine new solo version of The Living Years, BB King duet Bring It On Home To Me, his own inestimable Satisfy My Soul, and covers of When You Walk In The Room, Any Day Now and What A Wonderful World, alongside new versions of the uptempo Dedicated and Love Will Keep Us Alive, a song he had covered by The Eagles. He's perhaps unfashionable in the current musical climate, but there's no denying the man's writing and vocal talents, and, you may be surprised at how many songs from his 'low key' career you actually recognise.
Mike Davies November 2006
Fans of the American singer songwriter style will be well pleased that Tom Russell, Slaid Cleaves, Eliza Gilkyson, etc have become regular visitors to the UK. Equally pleasing is the fact that there is a host of lesser-known treasure waiting to be unearthed in the American hinterland, or, even just in Austin!
Step right up Adam Carroll. His music got my ears a couple of years back with a live album that sounded like John Prine meets Bob Dylan. Sure enough with 'Far Away Blues' in the CD player, there are the same influences on show but now you hear an artist with plenty of character of his own, too. With time under his belt and a studio to hand, Adam takes us through bluegrass styles on 'AFL-CIO' where he reminisces on the musical fun to be had at union meetings. Then, the title track gives us a classic boy-girl tale of unrequited love as the lonesome hours get whiled away over a few beers in the local pool hall. More unrequited love arrives with the pop of 'Picture Show' and strings adorn the lovely 'Teardrops'. There's plenty of sadness and melancholy around but, then, there's nothing wrong with that. The record closes with 'Peace On Earth', yet another war inspired song of worth - yes, we should be thankful for small mercies.
Amongst his peers, he gets the recognition deserved with the likes of Slaid Cleaves singing his praises. Ray Wylie Hubbard and Terri Hendrix have joined him on this record to add their vocals, too. Hopefully, this latest record will raise his profile amongst UK music fans, too.
Steve Henderson, October 2006
Aside from a fine joint album with Mick Sands (The Ominous And The Luminous) a year or so ago, and a DVD in the excellent Guitar Maestros series (Sound Techniques), all things have been quite silent in the Clive Carroll camp since his astounding second album The Red Guitar (2005), which I described as "an instrumental album par excellence that can be appreciated by fellow-guitarists and us mere mortals alike". And I'd stand by that assessment again for album number three, Life In Colour, which is every bit as – em, colourful as its predecessor (not that there's ever been anything remotely monochrome about Clive's music).
In fact, once again it's hard to write about the album without using the same old superlatives, praising the same qualities and virtues in Clive's playing. Once again Clive roves across and around accepted genre boundaries, while at the same time showing an intuitive empathy with, and deep respect for, the conventions of those genres. And again, that healthily open-minded attitude is key to Clive's musicianship and an important factor by which to measure his success in achieving a satisfying variety of musical experiences for the listener. Here, the relaxed All This Time and Eliza's Eyes have a gentle jazzy lilt, with (on the latter especially) an attractive use of percussive elements alongside the innate lyricism of the compositions. The glistening, gleaming Shiny Wooden Toy has a kind of John Fahey-meets-Nick Harper vibe, while the shuffling syncopated rhythms of Sid The Squid contrast with the hypnotic, altogether more pensive road-sketch Oregon and The Gentle Man, an affectionate character-study of Clive's late father Michael, who had been such a huge influence on his life and music-making. The swinging Doodup is also lovingly dedicated to Michael, and this is a real tour-de-force of invention and technique, the nearest Clive comes to overt display and letting his hair down. For with Clive, his intense musicality is never compromised by a desire to show off his impressive technique. The final, linked pair of tracks travels back in time to the Elizabethan courtly music scene, with an original praeludium and galliard.
Life In Colour is another self-produced effort: there's bits and pieces of percussion from Paul Clavis on a couple of tracks, otherwise all the sounds you hear have been produced by Clive's acoustic guitar (or classical guitar, with some banjo on Dehli Fratelli and delectable twangy Telecaster on Doodup). OK, so I might take mild issue with a couple of the titles (Mississippi Blues sounds less like an homage to the delta than Chicago barrelhouse boogie, for instance), but my only real critical carp, on a purely artistic basis, comes with a slight but still nagging feeling that Life In Colour doesn't hang together quite so convincingly as its predecessors: first, I'm not sure that All This Time is sufficiently attention-grabbing as an opening salvo, and second, I don't find that the track entitled (…change of scene…), a brief sequence of ambient sound(s) placed before the penultimate track, does anything for the continuity of the set. Otherwise, in all matters of playing and musicianship (phrasing, attack, dynamics, tone, the lot) this ultra-listenable set is beyond criticism, literally.
David Kidman January 2009
Clive Carroll - The Red Guitar (Own label)
Ace young guitarist Clive returns to recording at last after an all-too-long four years away from the studio, shorn of much hair maybe but not shorn of any of that outstanding talent that had marked him out on his debut CD The Sixth Sense as a very special instrumentalist indeed. The Red Guitar is that comparative rarity – an instrumental album par excellence that can be appreciated by fellow-guitarists and us mere mortals alike! Of course, the uneducated and/or impatient ear is apt to dismiss Clive's playing as just a lot of tricksy noodling, but to do so is missing the point, refusing to acknowledge the subtleties of Clive's approach, the intrinsic musicality of his phrasing and tonal shading. The level of musicality that Clive displays is truly astonishing, one not automatically present in even the most skilled of professional guitarists, many of whom are content to spin notes for the sake of showing off how clever they can be with their twelve fingers!
tylistically, Clive's compositions (which comprise 11 out of the 13 tracks on this new CD) rove eclectically and brilliantly through and across genre boundaries – well, as if that matters!. The opener March And The Messenger starts out craftily like a morris tune, then progresses through a series of syncopated riffs to finish somewhat breathlessly as a fast reel. Song For Chris Berry is an altogether more lyrical creation; then there are two sets directly inspired by Clive's Irish upbringing (which wouldn't necessarily spring immediately to mind when you think of any obvious influence on either his playing, technique or musical sensibility). These sets display Clive's superb sense of rhythm, external and internal, and his unerring feel for pace, knowing just when and how to let the music breathe (marvel at track 3, which pairs the air Black Moon with the march Westward Move, with both even played together towards the end!). Interpolated devices such as harmonics and slaps (I hesitate to call them tricks!) are applied naturally as part of the musical ebb and flow; there's no sense of "oh how clever am I" with Clive, listening to him play is as natural as having a conversation with a good friend. Devil's Bridge (nifty title that!) proves a real finger-twister of a piece, 1½ minutes of satanic Romanian-inspired tunes; Les Petites Clochettes makes a virtue of delicacy. The pensive Inside stretches out lovingly across the fretboard, expanding gently to fill four glorious minutes, and is dedicated to fellow-guitarist Tommy Emmanuel, with whom Clive has memorably toured. Blue notes, percussive slaps and beautiful lyricism combine on the brief road-movie that is Route 73 (Stoke Newington to Hammersmith anyone?!). The Romanian connection surfaces again on Bela Boy, which pithily transcends its inspiration (Bartók's pioneering folksong arrangements in the early years of the last century). The "other" Bela (bluegrass master Fleck) then gets the homage honour on the fingerlickin' hoedown of Luck For Sale. Perhaps on Clive's rendition of Gilbert Biberian's piece The Romantic the character is more of an Impressionist though…? Wayne Shorter's flamboyant showpiece Black Nile then makes for an ideal closer to the CD. Just before which, the insistent, repetitive motor rhythms of Threnody provide an altogether different challenge to both player and listener, which Clive passes with flying colours.
Is one of them "red"? – well, red-hot with aching fingers, I'm sure, but also red-hot with creativity. Your guess is as good as mine! In all its moods, Clive's playing may be note-perfect, but that doesn't ever mean it's soulless. Guitar music doesn't often get right to one's emotions, but I find Clive's playing gets deep to mine. Suffice it to say, this is a superb CD. Go buy it when it appears. And visit Clive's website for the stories behind the tunes.
David Kidman
An exhilarating disc from these two master Irish-American musicians, on which they rock on through a fantastically varied selection of tunes with nay a pause for breath - yet you feel no sense of being hurried or hustled through its course. That in itself is an achievement. We all know of Chicago-born Liz's fearsome reputation for terrific live performances, but this is arguably the first time that their true vibrancy has translated onto the medium of CD. At times you can really hear and feel the coarse scrape-on-rosin bow strokes, the raw energy of her playing - for instance on the minor-key shenanigans of the second of the reels in the opening set, or the Smokies In Arbroath set (track 5). And I don't think I've ever heard a pair of musicians more in tune with each other and at one in their vision of where the music is going - ex-Solas man John's superb sense of rhythmic drive and counterpoint truly works both ways, bringing out the very best in Liz's playing and enabling her to mould her rhythms accordingly. John's ability to coax such a variety of colours out of the fretboard (guitar or bouzouki), together with his unerring natural control of ebb and flow dynamics are qualities that so perfectly complement the heady, delirious swoop of Liz's fiddle lines, and the pair take immense delight in swopping round the rhythmic emphasis between instruments during the course of a tune. Whether the gait is reel, hornpipe or waltz, the collective sense of bounce and swing is tremendous, but Liz and John show they can relax in great style too with the thoughtfully delicate slow air The Island Of Woods. Like that very air, a significantly large proportion of the tunes played on the disc are Liz's own compositions - and mighty fine they are too. And what's more, the sound quality is brilliantly spot-on: crisp, close and detailed but not in any way artificial or sterile - and it's been produced by Liz and John themselves! This is a short review - simply because I really can't find a thing wrong with this excellent disc, for this is an uncommonly persuasive illustration of the overwhelming power and joy that can be gained from listening to two fine musicians simply playing tunes together.
David Kidman December 2007
Marc Carroll - Ten of Swords (Evangeline)
The former frontman of much underrated Irish chiming pop rock outfit The Hormones , continues his love affair with the 12 string Rickenbacker on his debut solo album, along with Roger McGuinn influences that embrace both the folk rock psychedelia of the Byrds and the folkier tones of his later solo work. Not to mention The Buzzcocks touches of Idiot World.
From the opening jangling Crashpad Number to the haunting plangent closer Terror And Tired Eyes (The Brilliance and Violence of Vincent Van Gogh), it's a glorious blood firing piece of work, exploding with hooks and infectious melodies, his bruised weary vocal tones equally adept on songs and styles that range from the spare Guthrie-esque gospel folk trad number Satan, Your Kingdom Must Come Down and the cosmic psychedelia of In Silence (shades of the Stones Roses here) to an amped up tumbling Byrdmaniax era Weird Dreams, the unadorned folksy skipping pop of You Saved My Life (Again Last Night), and the West Coast meets Simon & Garfunkleisms of Silent and Blind and Falling Into Nowhere.
According to the Tarot, the ten of swords denotes ruin, failure and disaster. Not here it doesn't.
Mike Davies
Marc Carroll - World On A Wire (Evangeline)
Two albums (and a rarities collection) and a Dylan thumbs-up in and the Dublin singer-songwriter is hitting his solo stride after several years fronting much underrated Irish outfit The Hormones. However, where Ten Of Swords was characterised by ringing upbeat folk rock Rickenbacker evocative of the Byrds the follow up is a far moodier and reflective affair steeped in piano and strings, Love Over Gold especially a plangent dark furrowed affair evocative of Blood On The Tracks era Dylan.
There's times when the Dylan soundalikes get dangerously close to Stars In Their Eyes territory, especially when you hear him reaching for the harmonica and familiar sounding melody lines, but there's other influences equally at work as the stark, backwoods acoustic folk feel (where you might find his voice prompting thoughts of Mike Peters) of Till These Bars Break ably testifies.
The lyrical mood is firmly downbeat, introspective with a melancholia edging into an emotional pessimism born of battering experience. The cello and piano shadings of the opening A Way Back Out Of Here clings to a ray of hope and salvation, but from here on he plunges into talk of 'losing the ones you look out for' on No Time At All, 'despair coming easy' on the deceptively breezy Dylanesque folk shuffle Together We're Strong, confessing to feeling "lost, done in and so low" on the strumalong jangle Talk Again.
But, whatever prompted him into writing those and the likes of the meditative It Isn't Always Easy, a gospel sounding In Agreement With Reality (which sounds to have borrowed the choir from Knocking On Heaven's Door) and the bitter turmoil of God's Wit where he "can't even remember my own name", given what's poured out on to the record you can't help but feel grateful.
Mike Davies
Tim Carroll - If I Could (Spit and Polish)
The Glasgow based label continues its mission to give UK exposure to lesser known alt-country talent with this compilation of early material from the Nashville singer-songwriter. Actually he's not that obscure, having been paying his dues for a decade or so and having his material covered by the likes of John Prine and Asleep At The Wheel and featured on the soundtracks of teen satires Drop Dead Gorgeous and Election. Covering a three year span from 93-96 it leans pretty much to the rockier side of country, a bit Earle, a bit Bare Jr, a bit Stonesy swagger Open Flame (which occasionally hints at Take It Easy) and She Does My Heart Good the best of the guitar rockers, much in the vein of Jason and the Scorchers but there's also some old time good ol' boys slapping with If I Could, Then I Would and the hillbilly western swing of the lighthearted Every Kind of Music But Country. Trivia freaks will note that Joan Osborne provides back ups on I'm In Pieces and that I Think Hank Woulda Done It This Way is quoted in a song by NYC hardcore outfit Sheer Terror. A useful introduction to a rising talent, but now how about letting us hear what he's up to these days.
Mike Davies
Knowing young Kendel's spirited fiddle playing with the Paperboys, I expected good things from this, her debut solo record. But... Let's get down to it. There's not a massive amount of fiddle on it, but instead she concentrates on singing - and that's just fine as it happens, for she sings honestly and naturally - and on around half of the album she convinces me that she's got something (and more) to offer. It appears the idea for recording the album came from Chip Taylor, who Kendel first met a couple of years ago at the Canmore Folk Festival. Hence his role as guiding light, mentor, producer, songwriter and backing vocalist on the final product. And that, sorry to say, is the reason why to m y mind the album's not as good as it could maybe 've been. In fact, it's a bit remarkably like the John Platania CD I reviewed recently in that respect, and I could make some of the same observations about it, in that at times it suffers from interference (albeit well-intentioned I'm sure) and a tendency to saddle Kendel with obtrusive production gimmicks on several of the uptempo numbers. On the other hand, there are some really appealing slower-tempo cuts with a fairly spare almost-live feel: Ribbons And Bows, Take Me Down To The River, Ain't That A Sun and Gold In The Hills. Musicianship from Chip and his doughty crew (John Platania, Tony Mercadante, Dan Rieser and Seth Farber, with Carrie Rodriguez and Tyler Carson on backing vocals) is spot-on, but (like those of Kendel herself) their efforts are compromised by the quality and generally inappropriate (for Kendel) nature of much of the material. It's the uptempo numbers that contain the real turkeys, like the irredeemably awful dross of I Like Trucks (I ask ya!) and other unnecessarily crowd-noise-bedecked cuts like I Certainly Know Why. The only uptempo cut that does anything for me is the opening hoedown Run To The Middle Of The Mornin', and even that's just a bit of gentle oldtimey fun. The other unfortunate and irritating thing about this CD is its wasteful format, whereby the final two songs, which happen to have been recorded at a later session with a fuller, more country-rocky band arrangement, are presented on a completely separate second CD; the playing time for the two discs adds up to just a sliver over 45 minutes. You could say that the comparative artistic failure of Rearview Mirror Tears ought to signal a manoeuvre in another direction - in other words, that next time round Kendel be allowed to make a more personal statement and let her own persuasive and individual voice come through, for she deserves better.
David Kidman July 2007
Incredibly, it's actually been 13 years since her last album. During which time she has, as she sings on the melancholic title ballad, "had her fair share of heartache." That will include a prescription drugs problem, busts for identity theft, car theft, and heroin possession and, in the space of nine months, the deaths of fellow addict bassist boyfriend Howie Epstein, mother June Carter, stepdad Johnny Cash, and sister Rosey.
However, as she says on the same track, "what doesn't kill me makes me stronger". And she's clearly alive and in fighting deeper voiced form with this comeback collection of scorching country rock and heart-stopping ballads, the songs not surprisingly informed by themes of loss, family, love and, following marriage to Joe Breen, of redemption and recovery from her "bittersweet wasted youth".
Recorded without any label backing or contract, she initially sold it via the Internet and at gigs. Word of mouth grew and eventually Yep Roc stepped in, more instrumentation was added, the production sharpened, the tracks remixed and the album given a proper commercial release.
I have to confess I'm no huge fan of Carter in her hillbilly rocking mode but there's no denying she cooks up a storm on the likes of The Bitter End, Why Be Blue, the funky On To You, and a new version of twangy growler I'm So Cool. I'm more inclined to uptempo Carter when she's being more old school, as with the bright piano and strings fuelled country pop Bring love, the handclappy line-dance friendly Light Of Your Love or the Opry rockabilly flavours of Break My Little Heart In Two which sounds like the influence of former husband Nick Lowe is still in the mix.
However, when she slows it down for the more traditional sounding material of her own family heritage, she brings a silver tingle to the back of the neck. To Change Your Heart could have been plucked from the Carter Family songbook while Spider Lace is woven from pedal steel yarn and (essentially an elegy for Rosey) Stronger is the sort of I'm still standing number that can reduce hardened truckers to babies.
That's the album stand-out, but chasing close on its heels has to be the country waltzing It Takes One to Know Me, an old tune that dates back to when Carter was 18. Originally written for her step-father, lines like "it's true that you used to be crazy, and harder to know than most men" now ring with the resonance of her own journey through the rings of fire to find sanctuary with Breen, whose baritone harmonies spookily suggesting she's actually duetting with Cash himself. She says she tends to reinvent herself every 10 or 12 years. This will do nicely for the next decade.
Mike Davies May 2008
The eight tracks on this very special release go back quite a way in time. The story is that three years running (1999 through 2001), Dave and Tracy were called upon by Ted Quackenbush on behalf of the president of a national US hardware store chain to contribute songs for a special annual gift holiday compilation for his employees. Now they're gathered together on one disc and made available publicly for the first time (the fabulous title song aside, that is). It may be viewed as an exercise in seasonal ephemera, but it's ephemera of the highest order, a truly charming and beautifully managed - and musically consistent - collection that deserves a place on your tinsel-bedecked shelf.
American Noël has a brilliant sense of meditative unity, although the sources of its raw material prove diverse; it contains four originals by Dave Carter and four classy reinterpretations of traditional (or neo-traditional) seasonal songs. The originals are both gently thought-provoking and timelessly idiomatic, and a further reminder of just how talented and versatile a songwriter the world lost when Dave died so tragically back in 2002. There's the backwoods charm of Go Tell The Fox and the delicious Christmas'n'western fun of Giddyup Said Santa Claus; the gorgeous, utterly sincere title song and, probably best of all, the sensitive Footsteps Of The Faithful. The non-originals are enterprising choices, and generally little-known: the tender German traditional Lo, How A Rose E'er Blooming duet and Tracy's matchless rendition of The Ditchling Carol are definite highlights.
With both Dave and Tracy on their very finest form (and oh what an enchanting a singer Tracy is, I'm reminded anew!), this is an inspired collection, which with its genuinely felt qualities of peace and understanding certainly eclipses most of this year's batch of seasonal releases. It came out a little late for consideration last Christmas, but you really shouldn't delay in getting a copy while it's still available; an added incentive is that a portion of the proceeds from its sale go to the Dakin Pioneer Valley Humane Society in Massachusetts. As the cover tray art proclaims: "By this merit may all beings be free of suffering. May all beings be happy. Happy Holidays!"
www.daveandtracy.com
www.tracygrammer.com
David Kidman December 2008
Where does one start with the Carter Family? Well, "country music's first family" were the originators of a style of performance much copied since. The original "family" trio of Alvin Pleasant, his wife Sara and her cousin Maybelle dug, and then steadfastly continued to plough, their own distinct musical furrow between 1927 and the early 40s, a furrow with clearly defined parameters: the lead vocal was almost always taken by Sara, with a harmony part from Maybelle and bass harmony by A.P., and the influentially dextrous lead guitar part was always the province of Maybelle (Sara confined herself to autoharp or rhythm guitar). Sara's singing style was strong and clear and to a defined structural and expressive blueprint, whatever the song - and the material itself has been described as a motley assemblage of folk ballads, gospel, sentimental or parlour songs, hymns and old-time, all collected by A.P. himself (remember that over time, the authorship of many of the songs has been credited to, or directly copyrighted by, A.P. virtually by default simply because the Carters got round to recording them first). Theirs is a sound that once heard and assimilated is never forgotten, and the extravagant (and oft-pedalled) claim that it laid the foundations for modern country music just can't be refuted.
So this is music that you need in your collection, period: at any rate in some form or other. But there are many (too many) Carter Family collections on the market, and the majority of these, while inevitably too selective by far for most tastes, come in indifferent or even poor sound - which is emphatically not the case with this great new set from Proper, where the sound quality is uniformly fine and full of presence. But you might well still ask: what is the point of bringing out a new four-disc-box compilation of Carter Family recordings, when the JSP label has set the benchmark with its two fabulous-value five-disc boxes (covering the time-frames 1927-34 and 1935-41 respectively) that are still available... Well, aside from the storage issue (your choice!) that is, for purchase cost isn't really a significant factor (the Proper box is around £12, the JSP boxes roughly the same each or perhaps a little less) ... Sure, you may prefer the songs on the earlier records, say, or else you may simply feel that you only want a representative sample of their music. But the facts and figures may help to guide you: these exceptionally well-filled Proper discs contain 103 tracks in total, with a playing-time of 75+ minutes per disc, so neither quantity nor quality can be questioned.
The Proper box comes with a splendid 44-page booklet incorporating a brilliant biographical essay and all due discographical information, whereas the only downside of the JSP sets is their relatively sparse documentation. The Proper box condenses the mighty corpus of CF recordings (effectively, ten discs down to four) through a sensible (if apparently ruthless) process of track selection, albeit giving roughly equal weight to each recording period, and to be honest I couldn't fault the compilers' choices here. I can see that this new Proper box, with its wide and effective distribution mechanism, will bring the work of the original Carter Family Trio (the name carried on but there were personnel changes after the early 40s) to an audience increasingly eager to investigate the roots of today's country music - and indeed of many of the songs we still continue to sing. I think the phrase "here's 'most all the Carter Family records that 'most of you'll ever want, sounding great, at a giveaway price and easily available" best voices my strong recommendation for this new box.
David Kidman August 2007
We've been waiting for this one for some time, and whoa, this is a heavy-duty release, no doubt about it, totally notwithstanding the big-name allure of the lass herself. Eliza's always defiantly poised herself right on the cutting edge of the music scene, openly challenging preconceptions and daring to be different while wholeheartedly respecting and vigorously embracing tradition and heritage.
So Dreams... turns out to be a truly fearless statement, with a distinctive and curiously compelling ambience that permeates the whole package. It has a garish seaside drowning-off-the-end-of-the-pier feel about it that's heady and actually quite stifling, especially when you first immerse yourself in its enticing, deceptively silvery waters. For there's a lot happening within those murky depths, with weird and intriguing instrumental textures swimming around in the mix like exotic, strangely-coloured fish.
The songs themselves (all but one self-penned by Eliza) and their dreamlike musical settings resonate with knowing, half-remembered, almost affectionately-parodic snatches of folksongs, Watersongs, chansons, café music, circus, cabaret, palais-de-danse, communal singsongs - you name it! With this record Eliza throws down a challenge by thrusting right in our faces an intoxicating devil-may-care melange of her whirlwind experiences personal and musical. She both reflects and refracts these, proudly displaying her hard-won muso-cred and her chameleon-like ability to absorb, assimilate and re-present the essence of her unashamedly eclectic inspirations. To accomplish this, she brings on board a veritable party-load of collaborators including Messrs. Spiers and Boden, three members of the Ivitsky clan (principally the multi-skilled Ben, Eliza's co-producer), Heather Macleod, Eddi Reader, Martin Green, Barnaby Stradling, assorted string players, and at one point most of the band Mystery Juice. Happily, none of the above ever place Eliza's ebullient musical personality - or her super-strong singing voice - in any danger of being subsumed, even if her own special instrumental virtuosity isn't overmuch to the fore as a general rule here (not that it needs to be).
Each of the eleven songs has its own distinct, if slightly skewed, character. Follow The Dollar is a distorted commentary on fame with a similarly distorted corruption of a folky chorus refrain and a pop-band lalalalaah (see her at the bar, going far...) - ho hum... Two Tears was inspired by Norma singing the Marianne Faithfull version of a Tom Waits song; its elliptical nostalgia uncannily evokes the spirit of Eliza's aunt, Lal Waterson, and the galumphing backdrop is echt-Bellowhead. Rows Of Angels has a kindof Portishead drumtrak backbeat, a vulnerable soundscape that parallels the lyric, swimming the depths and soaring the treetop heights, with stylophone, oboe and concertina uneasily coexisting in the mix. Rosalie takes a nice Sussex waltz tune and converts it into what I took to be a kind of flipside to Maid With The Bonny Brown Hair, characterising the lady concerned through a lush string arrangement and a feisty, punchy rhythm section. Mr. Magnifico is a florid, mariachi-sodden portrait of Eliza's larger-than-life new hero, given flesh and blood through Tim Matthew's clipped narration and Toby Shippey's fine trumpet soloing. Like I Care is a wild and carefree blowsy noisy rant that skitters and skas rocksteady through your brain and out the other side. Lavenders is a would-be idyll starting with a memory-check soundalike of the dilly-dilly folksong, before this and the attendant incessant twittering of eerie little winged things is interrupted by disturbing scratchy, spidery percussion crawling inside the skin of the lush string-pastoral arrangement. Little Bigman ushers in Ratcatchers and Mr. McFall's Chamber for a jaunty oompah evocation of a Whitby romance in which Eliza pumps the melodeon, Jon Boden plonks the banjo, and there's even a barbershop chorus! Simple Things is a quite desperate, if coolly beautiful (and perhaps rather Robert Wyatt-like) reflection on romance. The drunkenly swaggering finale, Oranges And Seasalt, is a woozy singalong amalgamation of three legendary parties - as a prelude to which Eliza's richly-textured take on Rory Macleod's Hug You Like A Mountain forms a poignant additional link from the track preceding it.
Summing up... well, Dreams Of Breathing Underwater is everything we expected from Eliza - and at the same time everything we didn't quite expect, and somehow even more: an almost hallucinogenic experience, quite overwhelming in its multilayered sensuality - and hey, seriously well worth the wait.
David Kidman June 2008
Eliza Carthy - Anglicana (Topic)
Returing to the label after a misfiring one off with Warner, who clearly didn't get her at all, this also marks a return to her love of English traditional song following the poppier radio friendly Angels and Cigarettes. With the exception of Dr MCMBE, a stately meditative instrumental written for her dad's 60th (dad himself playing guitar), this is all self-arranged trad, most of it culled from Topic's 20 volume Voice of the People series, not to mention the family song sheet library, the title denoting an 'expression of Englishness as I feel it.' It's a mix of the well ploughed - Bold Privateer, the umpteenth reinterpretation of Just As The Tide Was Flowing, here driven on melodeon and viola, and Worcester City (woman dies of poison at hands of lover to the slow marching sound of scraped fiddle and military drum beat) -and the less tilled (Limbo, a trio of country dance tunes, Joseph Taylor's concertina jaunty Little Gypsy Girl with mom Norma helping out on vocals), all played with a reinvigorated recommitment to her roots.
The stand-outs both come at the close of play. In London So Fair is Carthy recorded live at the Steinway singing a haunting ballad from the canon of Irish singer Mary Ann Carolan, and Willow Tree, a fabulous 40s English dance hall meets New Orleans march swayer with sax, trumpet, piano accordion, jazz violin and vocals from Heather McLeod and Mary McMaster that absolutely demands you raise a flagon and join in the fun.
Mike Davies
Eliza Carthy & Nancy Kerr - On Reflection (Mrs Casey Music)
This admirable compilation is aptly titled, for it gives an ample 73 minutes of reflection on just what a tremendous combination of talents this duo represented. To my mind it has never been surpassed in either of the two lasses' subsequent work, fine though that has been - Eliza and Nancy together were quite simply a powerhouse. Stunning playing, incredibly full twin-fiddle sound, absolutely devastating and imaginative harmonies, striking presence, white-heat conviction and ear-curdling intensity in every phrase - nothing has quite matched it since.
What we have here is a sensibly chosen and credibly sequenced selection of tracks from the two duo albums (five from each) of 1993 and 1995 respectively (can it really be that long ago?!), topped up with one each from the Nancy Kerr & James Fagan releases Scalene and Steely Water and three previously unreleased cuts. These will provide the main interest for committed fans, and comprise two "new" tracks (offcuts?) recorded by Eliza we know not when (one's a set of hornpipes accompanied by a somewhat recessed Martin Green on piano accordion - not piano as stated on the booklet! - and the other's a curious rambling experimental quasi-tonepoem Fen, which also features fellow-EC-Band members Saul Rose and Ben Ivitsky), together with a Kerr/Fagan track recorded live last year (a slightly different version of which appears on their newest Fellside release). A worthwhile collection, and one that amply fulfils its promise.
David Kidman
This is an extremely valuable disc. It makes available a live recording of a gig performed by this duo at the Folkus Folk Club (at Arnold and Carlton College) on 16th June 1966 (apparently enshrined in the artists' memories as "the night before the day we ran over the cow" – read the booklet note for the full story, not least for its provision of context for the title of this release!). The tape of this night's entertainment was ceremoniously handed to Martin at a gig some 33 years later by the very sound-man who had recorded it (Keith Brake), and after being remastered by Swarb and Martin Jenkins was issued on a CD on his own Atrax label (though not widely available – its release on Topic now should remedy that). What a night it was, with both performers on a high. Their duo repertoire of the day was based very much on the half-dozen or so songs they'd performed together on Martin's eponymous first album, punctuated by sets of tunes which were "meat and drink to him (=Swarb) at the time" and a couple of ragtime instrumentals which they were shortly to record on the Rags, Reels And Airs album with Diz Disley. Of the rest, Fair Maid On The Shore and Newlyn Town would surface on Martin's second LP, while Bonny Black Hare was destined for the duo's first joint album proper (Byker Hill) the following year. But it never feels as though they were running short of performable material, and the lively jokey asides and occasional shout all add to the great atmosphere of the night and give the flavour of a pair of musicians well in tune with each other, their instrumental and interpretive skills and their audience – even at that early stage of their musical partnership. So brilliant were the performances that night, notwithstanding the occasional fluff (on Bonny Black Hare), and so tumultuous was the applause at the conclusion of the set. It's one of those rare live sets that you're unlikely to tire of hearing. Now if you already own the Atrax issue, then don't worry about the difference: the sound is possibly marginally sharper on the Atrax than on the Topic disc in fact, but there's not much in it. Curiously, the tape is faded around 20 seconds earlier on the Topic, excising the MC's parting comment. As far as presentation goes, however, for Topic David Suff has provided some fine archive photos to complement the straight reproduction of Martin's booklet reminiscence from the Atrax issue; the only other difference is the change of composer credit for the two rags from Joplin to Johnson!
www.watersoncarthy.com
www.topicrecords.co.uk
David Kidman December 2007
I'll bet this one's been eagerly awaited, and not just by those who bought any of the first six fabulous releases in this series (already reviewed here on NetRhythms). But the glory of the Guitar Maestros series is that both the keen listener and the non-practising-guitarist (I mean that kindly, and in both senses of the term!!) will get plenty out of it, probably every bit as much as the inveterate musician and the dedicated guitar buff, perhaps even more and/or in a different way. Martin, of course, has in his 40+ year career as a folk singer/guitarist been right at the forefront of the enthusiastic (and highly influential) communication of the power of folksongs traditional (and to some extent contemporary too), and his innovative guitar technique has been a benchmark and constant inspiration to countless musicians across (probably three) generations. Yet Martin's head remains firmly on his shoulders, so to speak, and there's not a trace of precious aloofness or arrogance in the man, as Trevor Dann's interview (well, friendly conversation!) here on this DVD proves.
The format of the Carthy DVD is virtually identical to the previous six in the series (ie. a main interview feature followed by a selection of additional tracks of music performances), and as before the emphasis of the interview, and the direction of the questioning, is very much geared to the subject, the man himself and his musical personality - exactly as it should be, and a premise that so many interviewers habitually ignore in following their own agenda. Interestingly though, and especially bearing in mind that the series' generic title is Guitar Maestros, the main feature throws us in at the proverbial deep end with a (near-ten-minute tour-de-force) performance of one of the most celebrated items from Martin's huge repertoire, Famous Flower Of Serving Men, where the emphasis is firmly, indeed primarily, on the words and the storytelling (a point to which the interview returns full circle at the close, by the way). After which the interview proper sets out with an account of how Martin arrived at the version of the ballad which he performs, rather than a discussion of guitar technique. Admittedly, it turns out that there's a logistical reason for starting out with that song, for it's the only one to utilise Martin's Fylde Jumbo guitar (for the remainder of the interview segment it's back to his trusty signature Martin!); and fair enough, there's an anecdote about how Martin got the Fylde too!
Before really getting down to talking about Martin's innovations in tuning and playing technique, we learn of Martin's empathy with the timeless quality of traditional song and of the seminal influence of the Penguin Book Of English Folksongs on his researches into performing versions of those songs. A performance of Lovely Joan (the melody of which Vaughan Williams used within his Fantasia On Greensleeves - but not the Tallis Fantasia, Martin!) is followed by the enlightening information that Martin's accompaniment for that song is adapted from a tuning that might be used for a cello or viola, say, and a fascinating discourse on why Martin "could never make sense of DADGAD tuning", experimenting instead with DADEAE. Between the ensuing song-performances, the conversation ranges over Martin's views on performing songs of social comment and the relevance issue, and on Martin's entirely logical and practical insistence on maintaining his status as a soloist right through his career in tandem with any other duo or group projects. Martin also quite objectively extols the artistic virtues of the individual members of his adopted family the Watersons, especially daughter Eliza, and his carefully-considered rationale for accepting the MBE (to give folk music a deserved profile). There's not a great deal of detailed explanation of aspects of Martin's playing technique, but in compensation there's plenty of camera-dwelling on those deft, apparently effortless fingerings and ever-agile moves across the fretboard. A typically magisterial definitive rendition of Seven Yellow Gypsies closes the main feature, after which we get a sizeable bonus in the form of no less than eleven fine additional tracks with a total duration of some 49 minutes. These encompass some classic Carthy indeed, in defiantly individual renditions of The Deserter and Sir Patrick Spens, the eight-minute "blood-and-thunder ballad" Bill Norrie with its insistent droning accompaniment, and Leon Rosselson's Ant And The Grasshopper with its bold and gloriously dissonant touches; surprisingly perhaps, there are only two instrumentals (Princess Royal and Le Cardeuse). But no quibbles, for what a splendid collection this is. A little over two hours, fantastic value, expertly filmed, top-quality sound, easy of access, and definitely a jewel in the crown of what is already an exceptionally fine series of DVDs.
David Kidman October 2006
Martin Carthy - Shearwater (Castle)
This is a welcome re-release for one of Martin's hitherto less easily available albums, which was first issued on the Pegasus label in 1972, and reissued on CD on Mooncrest in the 90s but unavailable for a while since. Thankfully, however, Sanctuary group now have the licence, and have taken the opportunity to present the album in a well-remastered form along with three bonus tracks which comprise a notable BBC radio session that was undertaken for John Peel in May 1972, shortly after the album's release. These inevitably prove of considerable interest, even though there's a lot of hiss and a certain amount of flutter; there's a fine version of King Henry which uses the Walk Awhile motif to introduce a close cousin of the text that was later used by Steeleye on Below The Salt, also a potent rendition of Trimdon Grange, while The False Lover Won Back completes the session. As for the original Shearwater album itself, this has long been a rather underrated item in the Carthy canon, possibly due to its intermittent unavailability, but it's actually rather a pivotal work. It was recorded in 1971, just after Martin had left Steeleye Span. In that group, Martin had played electric guitar, and he now relished the chance to get back to a starker acoustic (both guitar and dulcimer) setting again – an eagerness which shows in the tracks he laid down here, excellent performances full of deliberate, considered power, which together present a perfectly rounded "snapshot" of his "repertoire at that time, a carefully chosen collection of traditional songs with stories which resonate in the contemporary world", as David Suff so aptly puts it in his new booklet note. Superb readings every one, especially perhaps the unaccompanied Handsome Polly-O, and culminating with a tremendous Famous Flower Of Serving Men (which Martin has so tellingly and memorably revisited on his very latest Topic release Waiting For Angels). All done totally solo, except for some quite reasonable doubletracking onI Was A Young Man and the duet vocal of Maddy Prior on the brief finale Betsy Bell And Mary Gray. This is a typically magnificent Carthy album, a vintage one I think, and you need a copy!
David Kidman
David Kidman
Currently T'n'G Musician Of The Year, John's recently joined the ranks of supergroup Patrick Street, but his pedigree stretches way back; he was a founder member of Four Men And A Dog, and over the years he's also played with De Dannan and At The Racket. John's a more than dependable musician whose virtuoso versatility on many different instruments has been widely celebrated. For this solo offering, however, John concentrates on the fiddle, on a sequence of invigorating tune-sets backed variously by the bouzouki of Alec Finn, the guitar of Francis Gaffney or Arty McGlynn and/or the piano keyboard of (mostly) Brian McGrath. John can also be heard duetting with his brother James's flute on (sadly only) two delightful tracks (probably the highlights in an album of high points!). Although John was born in London, his playing style is rooted in the musical tradition of North Connaught, to which area (Co. Roscommon) he's lately returned to live. That said, John's quick to acknowledge his influences and the sources for the tunes in his liner notes - these range from Séamus Tansey to Joe Burke, Séamus Ennis and Lad O'Beirne to John Wynne, Micho Russell to Michael Coleman. This is a superb album, full of exquisitely turned playing, where subtlety meets drive hand-in-hand, where the melodies never get lost in the notes and a lasting beauty of expression is more important than the temporary "big effect" of straight-ahead virtuosity. There's very little I can usefully add to that, in fact - if you appreciate the music of the Sligo tradition well played and simply arranged, with no frills or gimmicks, just good honest musicianly playing with a great joyous feel and understanding, then this lovely CD is for you - me, I could listen to this stuff all night!
David Kidman
Caitlin Cary - I'm Staying Out (Yep Roc)
Formerly fiddle player with Whiskeytown, Cary's sophmore album (I never did get to hear her debut While You Weren't Looking, but the Waltzie EP was more than enough to confirm Ryan Adams wasn't the only ex member heading for a major solo career) takes a step away from their alt country and several closer to the crossover mainstream. None of the Nashville spangly gloss thankfully, rather a combination of the vintage days of Patsy Cline (check the torch piano waltz Please Break My Heart), cranked up country bar room rock (Cello Girls) and Fleetwood Mac pop (You Don't Have To Hide). She gives good crying in the beer folk tinged sobbery on the title track too.
She's impressing the right people. The legendary Don Dixon's all over the album like a rash while Mary Chapin Carpenter turns up to add harmony to three tracks, the closing clarinet spiced aching love song I Want to Learn to Waltz one of the set's highlights while The Next One wouldn't sound out of place on a Carpenter album itself.
Vocally occupying a nasal middle ground between Natalie Merchant and Lucinda Williams, Cary's sounding rightfully confident here, crossing country boundaries with ease, spinning songs of the doubts that gnaw at love's self-confidence as on the glorious fiddle and mandolin laced folk-pop stand out Beauty Fades Away. But also of strong, resilient women like the character who refuses to break down in Empty Rooms or in the poignant Lorraine Today, the single mother who fears her daughter will be swayed away by her father in one verse and then prepares to give her to a husband in the next.
When she first went solo she was spoken of almost as a footnote in Ryan Adams' rise to fame. As of now she's officially a chapter heading of her own.
Mike Davies
Caitlin Cary & Thad Cockrell - Begonias (Yep Roc)
Every year or so, some music critic or another will declare the arrival of the news Gram Parsons & Emmylou Harris. Invariably expectations are never quite met. However, this teaming of the former Whiskeytowner and her North Carolina singer-songwriter old buddy comes as close as any with their first collaboration. The closest comparison comes with the opening and closing cuts, Two Different Things (lovers worlds apart) and Big House (religion) though the old school jaunty Party Time and Don't Make It Better take the bloodlines back to Porter and Dolly and George and Tammy respectively too.
Other references rear their head. Cary's lead on the train chugging distant longing of Something Less Than Something More oddly recalls Anne Murray and Bob Lind, Second Option is in the rowdier spectrum of the old Everly numbers, while the rework of self-worth ballad Please Break My Heart from Cary's earlier album is pure barroom Patsy Cline. And their fine country soul cover of Percy Sledge classic Warm & Tender Love surely owes its inspiration to the version by Thea Gilmore with the Reel & Soul Association.
It's a fine collection of song choices too, though perhaps the showcase has to be the spare Conversations About A Friend (Who's In Love With Katie), a heart breaking cracked seven minute love pushed apart story song that plays out like a small town screenplay.
Begonias might not, ultimately, be a Grievous Angel for the new millennium but its scent seems destined to linger long.
www.caitlincary.com
www.thadcockrell.com
Mike Davies
Taking time out from his ongoing day job with Ryan Adams backing band The Cardinals, the New Jersey singer-songwriter returns to the Americana folk-roots of his 1998 Basement Dreams album. With 16 tracks and a running time of around an hour, he's clearly been bottling things up for while. It's an assured, largely laid back affair peppered with steel, banjo, mandolin, fiddle and organ that sails by nicely. However, although there's nothing here to have you reaching for the skip button, nor is there that killer track that would make you really sit up and take notice.
The Losing End eases you in with a 70s SoCal mellow groove that immediately conjures thoughts of Jackson Browne and Gram Parsons and everything that follows pretty much keeps things smoothed. A quietly anthemic The Cold & The Darkness showcases Casal's guitar skills, A Year & A Day flirts with bluegrass banjo while Cold Waves turns attention to piano ballad territory and Keep The Peace politely checks out the acoustic folk blues. Best by far is Hereby The Sea, a 60s flavoured pop ballad that pins George Harrison guitar stylings to Roy Orbison delivery. Undeniably pleasant but, you have to wish that, given the title, it took flight a little more often.
www.nealcasal.com
www.myspace.com/nealcasal
Mike Davies February 2009
Neal Casal - Leaving Traces 1994-2004 (Fargo)
Maybe he's clearing the decks and getting ready for a relaunch, but after his recent album of covers now comes an 18 track collection of material released over the course of nine albums. Latecomers will be pleased to hear that the opening two tracks, Free To Go and Maybe California, stem from his long deleted (brief) major label debut Fade Away Diamond Time (which also provides the compilation's title though not the accompanying song), though it's disappointing that he only finds room for one (the jauntily ironic All The Luck in The World) from its follow up, Rain Wind and Speed.
Skipping past the Field Recordings release, there's a brace of representatives from The Sun Rises Here, easily one of his best albums and the waltzing Today I'm Gonna Bleed among his best songs. Basement Dreams saw him pulling together assorted home and 8 track recordings as well as things that had been hanging around without a home for the past three years. Out of its 23 folk-inclined tracks, he's included four (five if you count the alternate previously unreleased version of the slow waltzing gem St Cloud), among them the Paul Simon-like Me and Queen Sylvia.
His collaboration with Ken Robey on Black River Sides also slips through the net, moving to Anytime Tomorrow, his last band album, which, in keeping with being the most acclaimed, represents the largest trawl of the net with five cuts that balance the lullabying Too Much To Ask and a late 60s West Coast sounding Oceanview on one hand with the tougher sounding and fuller rock arrangements of Lucky Stars and a cranked up electric Neil Young-like rumble through Eddy & Diamonds on the other. And, just to bring things up to date, he's even reprised his doomy piano cover of Johnny Thunder's It's Not Enough.
A useful sampler for new admirers and old fans alike, but can we please now close up the back pages and hear what new chapters the last four years of silence have wrought.
Mike Davies
Neal Casal - Return In Kind (Fargo)
Having seemingly lost a firm grip on the direction of his own material in recent years, it's somewhat ironic that, rather like the recent Katherine Williams equivalent, it's taken a covers album to refocus Casal's musical attention on his strengths. With an acoustic delivery strikingly reminiscent of Jackson Browne, the selections clearly echo his own musical inspirations and influences. There's a some relatively familiar names with a wearily fine versions of Ronnie Lane's Debris and Gene Clarke's With Tomorrow, a Van Morrison-like soulful take on Doug Sahm's Be Real and a doomy piano reading of Johnny Thunders's punk stamp It's Not Enough. But most of his choices tend to be either on the fringe and underground such as the wholly redesigned Yellow Kid from indie rockers Royal Trux and Michael Hurley's fairground organ waltzer Portland Water or bordering on the obscure with the gospel Too Late by The Consolers, the finger picking Greenwich Village folk of Love As Laughter's Miss Direction (learned during his stint with Beechwood Sparks), Grace Braun's It Won't Hurt (with spare church hymnal arrangement) and the simple voice and minimal guitar of the closing There's A Reward by Jamaican songwriter Joe Higgs. A new studio album of original material is scheduled for later this or early next year, his first since 2000's Anytime Tomorrow. If the batteries are as recharged as they sound here, it'll be worth the wait.
Mike Davies
This latest by Neko, her first for over two years, finds her vocally on her finest form, rich and evocative, on a bunch of new songs that together take an unsentimental yet conscience-filled look at the animalistic, and invariably destructive, nature of relationships. Twelve of the fourteen songs are Neko's own compositions, and their often sumptuous, glowing musical settings can belie the darker import of her lyrics (these deserve wider dissemination, so it's a pity they're not reproduced in the booklet, which instead concentrates on photos, arty collages and cartoon drawings - there's not even a proper summary tracklisting on the outside, and you have to ferret details out from within the booklet instead). Neko's left-field stablemates, who include Kelly Hogan, Nora O'Connor, Paul Rigby, Howe Gelb and Joey Burns, do her proud, if at times the bright nature of the soundscape generally threatens to overshadow or misrepresent the savagery of the lyrics. Even the two covers - Harry Nilsson's Don't Forget Me and Ron Mael's Never Turn Your Back On Mother Earth (coincidentally, both dating from 1974) - exude a deceptively exotic, at times power-pop-inflected aroma. It's a shame that the disc's final track, Marais La Nuit, is a repetitive, pointless and needlessly expansive half-hour sound-picture that evokes nothing more than a multitude of chirruping insects circling around your head and going absolutely nowhere… all of which rather tends to detract rather from the strength of the preceding songs; but then, you can always jettison the disc after Red Tide!
David Kidman April 2009
Occasional member of the New Pornographers, although Case released live album The Tigers Have Spoken in 2004, marking her debut for her new label, it's been a long four years since the husky but tough voiced Virginia born singer's last studio recording, the ineffably wonderful Blacklisted. However, the wait's been worthwhile.
Her voice remains a cross between Patsy Cline and Loretta Lynn, but the long gap between recordings has seen her songwriting and performance become richer and deeper, even if the lyrics often remain bafflingly enigmatic and shrouded in mythic narrative.
Again working with The Sadies, Howe Gelb, Calexico's Joey Burns and John Convertino, and longtime collaborator Brian Connelly as well as guests like the Band's Garth Hudson, there's an interesting collection of musical shapes here.
A Widow's Toast and the rousing traditional John Saw That Number respectively embrace hillbilly and gospel folk while the painfully optimistic That Teenage Feeling brings a surf rock twang and there's a blues vein with added discordance to the title track which, taken from Ukrainian mythology, laments the destruction of the natural landscape in a fable that pits the naive against the wily.
Themes of displacement and loss of self-certainty curl through the songs and animal imagery, ruefully musing on her hometown's changes and her own emotional bruises on The Needle Has Landed, favouring the comfort of strangers over the dangers of family blood on Hold On, Hold On, or obscurely addressing dementia as a preying wolf on Dirty Knife. There is too the dark waltzing pessimism that engulfs Little Sparrow and the elusive metaphors that stalk country blues honky tonk slow dance Lion's Jaws.
Though the songs demand work before they yield their deep secrets, she's again proves a keen observer of human emotion on the opening Margaret vs Pauline, a poetic but no less bitter story of envy (the living jealous of the dead) laced with images of chlorine and satin. And, as befits any artist steeped in the old Country from which Case's roots draw their sustenance, there's the spectre of death too.
It hangs heavy but defied over the brief acoustic strummed Lynchian soundscape At Last while Star Witness sees her reinventing the 60s teen tragedy genre with its detailed snapshot of a car wreck, the 'glass in the thermos', the blood stained jeans and the girl in the nightgown weeping 'please, don't let him die.'
An album of beguiling beauty and musical risks, sewn together with both darkness and a hope for the light of better days, in this world or the next, it's a flood well worth drowning in.
www.nekocase.com
www.myspace.com/nekocase
Mike Davies October 2006
Neko Case - The Tigers Have Spoken (Anti)
Two years on from the ineffably wonderful Blacklisted, the husky but tough voiced Virginia born singer marks her move to a new label with a live album of original (some self-penned, others in collaboration with The Sadies who also serve as her backing band) and some choice covers. Variously recorded in Toronto and Chicago (save for one track, of which more later), it's disappointingly on the short side at just over half an hour and the sound quality can be a little distant and muddy at times, but there's no complaints about the content.
The first of two new numbers, If You Knew kicks things off in chiming other woman country ballad form reminiscent of 10,000 Maniacs, the second new song being the slightly folk-rockier title track (though, not to spoil the musical flow, the explanatory introduction turns up as a bonus hidden track) in which the shooting a chained tiger because it can't be reintroduced it back to the wild becomes a metaphor about relationships. Two earlier numbers, a spare, high lonesome Favourite (the first song she wrote herself and only available on a rare early tour only CD) and bluesy version of Blacklisted (clocking in at less than the studio version), provide the remainder of the Case songs, leaving five covers and two traditional numbers. Buffy St Marie's Soulful Shade of Blue gets a breezy, upbeat old school mountain music treatment that doesn't obscure the song's tale of lost love, Freakwater's Hex is a torchy honky tonk swayer while Train From Kansas City, the old Shangri-La's impending break-up hit sob song, is taken a considerably faster lick than the original. A thumping rocking rip it up take of the Nervous Easter's punky Loretta duly leads on to a track by Ms Lynn herself, a faithful gutsy version of Rated X.
Which leaves the trad tunes, a knees up good time bluegrass romp through This Little Light Of Mine and the mournful Wayfaring Stranger, the latter recorded 'partly live' (whatever that means) at the ideaCity Conference in Toronto, the simple banjo and acoustic guitar accompaniment fleshed out by a chorus in which the 300 delegates join in. A new studio album is in progress for 2005, but for now these tigers are burning bright enough.
Mike Davies
Neko Case - Black Listed (Matador)
Soon to be starting work the New Pornographers follow up to Mass Romantics, shorn of Her Boyfriends this finds Case on solo form (albeit with help from Howe Gelb, Calexico's Joey Burns and John Convertino and singer Mary Margaret O'Hara) for her third album, the follow up to 2000's Furnace Room Lullaby. All dark, brooding reverb guitar noir country, sometimes shivering like a desert night, sometimes as hot as oatcakes on the griddle.
the Virginia born singer-songwriter siren is closer to what Patsy Cline might have sounded had she been influenced by Nick Cave. The gothic bluegrass Things That Scare Me opens the innings, spooky haunted woods mountain music with banjo showing off her nasal twang and emotional fire to fine effect but also serving to introduce you to Case's inclination for impressionistic lyrics that prefer to let images rather than narrative provide the resonances. Case in point the next track, Deep Red Bells where she sings that the handprint on a smashed car "looks a lot like engine oil, and tastes like being poor and small, and Popsicles in summer" and makes emotional rather than literal sense, though as the line "water through my lashes looked just like Christmas lights" from Stinging Velvet shows, she certainly has a way with a strikingly evocative sensory image.
Whatever specifics may lie behind the lines, loss, death and longing seem to be the general themes, whether couched in the wistfulness of the gently beautiful Wish I Was The Moon, the melancholic Pretty Girls with its David Lynch/Angelo Badalamenti chiming guitars (first heard on the soundtrack to The Gift) or the fraying nerves of Ghost Wiring. Tightly is the strongest evocation of Cline (sharing the sensibility of Walking After Midnight) but elsewhere she takes the old Sarah Vaugan/Kitty lester obsessive love song Look for Me (I'll Be Around) and makes it sound like Judy Garland while on the album's other cover, Runnin' Out Of Fools, she takes Aretha Franklin's version as the blueprint and adds in piano and twang to emerge like Wanda Jackson.
With its empty hall, radio mike Owen Bradley style production and Case's powerful, passionate voice, it's at once achingly old fashioned Nashville and ferociously now alt-country, her brand of cold warm blue flame torch burns as bright as they come.
Mike Davies
Not, as the title might lead you to think, a tribute album to acoustic bluesman Sleepy John Estes. However, Case's first solo acoustic album clearly takes its inspiration from the genre he embodied with Guthrie an obvious influence on both Underneath The Stars and the excellent Every 24 Hours, on which, joined by Richard Thompson, Case fuses classic Woody (the melody recalls Deportee) with traditional folk.
Variously drawing dusty throat vocal comparison to John Prine (Ain't Gonna Worry No More, The Open Road Song) and early Dylan (The Soul Twist), Case also comes at things from a similar storytelling perspective and social conscience, addressing US foreign policy, washed up boxers, urban poverty, homelessness, and (in what may well be a dig at the Spector case on Million Dollars Bail) the way money buys the justice you want.
Aside from Thompson, other guests include pedal steel player Norm Hamlet giving extra lustre to The Soul Twist, Lysa Flores duetting on the upbeat Somebrightmorninblues and Duane Jarvis plugging his electric guitar into the rowdy blues I'm Gonna Change My Ways. But for the most this is Case as lone troubadour, showing off his picking chops to dazzling effect on a cover of Robert Wilkins' trad blues instrumental Get Away Blues. Case has come a long way down a different path since his days fronting power pop guitar outfit The Plimsouls. It's been a fascinating journey, where he goes next promises to be just as intriguing.
Mike Davies November 2007
Back with Vanguard after last year's self-released Thank You St Jude, Case's 9th album puts another spin on his flat-picked acoustic folk-blues, introducing new global textures and filtering back in some of the rock of his earlier albums. If You Got A Light To Shine draws a line in the sand from the get go with a percussive rhythm that reminds you why he once termed his music tribal folk and why those Dylan comparisons used to come by the bucketload. Although Lost In The Sky introduces an Eastern colour to the palette with what sounds like some Arabic horn, Evening Raga isn't quite the Asian mantra the title suggests, rather a slow ticking rhythm and bare bones brooding mountain music drone in which he sings of his voice cracking like old dry leaves, which indeed it does. Something's Coming, the swampy It's Cold Inside with its harp and jug jugging computer noises and a cover of Townes Van Zandt's Ain't Leavin' Your Love are the closest to his favoured blues-country style, but it's those other tracks and the finger picking Greenwich Village folk of Gone, a dreamy smooth I Hear Your Voice with Case in weight of the ages weary nasal mode, an Earle-like Manana Champeen (with the opening line here's the procrastination champions of the world) and the closing acoustic desert-roots guitar First Light with its humming on the wires intro and yet more Eastern instrumentation that distinguish this personal boundaries pushing release.
Mike Davies
West Clare fiddler Bobby, who died a little over seven years ago, was an undisputed doyen of, and a major influence on, the London Irish traditional music scene in the 50s and 60s. He made some recordings for Bill Leader and Reg Hall in the mid-to-late 1960s, including the sterling examples of his playing which appeared on Topic Records' landmark collection Paddy in the Smoke; the hour's worth of tapes comprising this new release were recorded both at around the same time (1966/67) and slightly later (1971). The phrase Banish Misfortune (being the title of that wellknown jig of course) could easily and rightly be used as an epithet for Bobby's playing. Yet it's also probably atypical of the West Clare style, in that it's characterised by both a sweeping flamboyance and a relatively heavy level of ornamentation (albeit still exhibiting a degree of fluidity). It also carries traces of the Sligo style and the Irish-American Michael Coleman records to which he was exposed, but Bobby's biggest inspiration was arguably Junior Crehan. What impresses me most on the recordings collected here, though, is the sheer weight of tone Bobby achieves from his fiddle for much of the time, a richly layered sound that often almost makes you think he's been doubletracked! Bobby's sense of conveying the tune's essence is unerring: unhurried but still unbridled. Just listen to the slyly sliding swing on the final Moving Bogs reel-set, for instance. A very small handful of the disc's 18 tracks feature other musicians in tandem: there's a particularly invigorating set of jigs (track 7) with Tommy McCarthy on concertina. But I never tire of Bobby's constantly inventive fiddling (and his tin whistle playing is pretty nifty too - he also gives us a brief reel on that instrument, The Laurel Tree). This is a happy celebration of Bobby's talent indeed.
www.irishfiddle.com
www.copperplatedistribution.com
David Kidman
Karan Casey - Chasing The Sun (Vertical)
Though not as impressive as her previous Distant Shore, this fourth solo outing by County Waterford's former lead singer of Irish-American Celtic folkers Solas is only a minor dip on the career graph.
Recorded with her touring band (Robbie Overson, Paul Mehan, Ewen Vernal and Niall Vallely) rather than guest musicians, again it balances a couple of traditional numbers (The Brown and the Yellow Ale, Robbie Burns's Lady Mary Anne, Jimmy Whelan) with her own compositions and contributions by fellow Irish songsters. This time round these coke courtesy Robbie O'Connell's love n drinking The Keg of Brandy and three politically minded outings from Barry Kerr, famine song Waiting For The Snow, the Palestinian refugee themed The World Looks Away and the environmental concerns of Mother Earth's Revenge.
Her voice settling somewhere between Sally Oldfield and Mary Black, Casey hits the protest trial herself with the 60sish acoustic blues When Will We All Be Free with its class divide subject matter and the moody self-explanatory if somewhat hippie dippy Freedom Song while songs of relationships (Bright Winter's Day), female strength (The Yellow Furze) and determined optimism (Chasing The Sun, This Time Will Pass) complete the parcel.
Mike Davies
Karan Casey - Distant Shore (Vertical)
Former lead singer of Irish-American Celtic folk outfit Solas, the County Waterford colleen's already carved out an impressive solo career over the course of the two albums released since she left to start a family. Unlike its predecessors, while there are traditional numbers such a and Lord MacDonald's (sung in Scots Gaelic, a language Casey doesn't speak) the emphasis is more on the contemporary. Here are songs by Billy Bragg (the wearily beautiful title track), American bluegrass star Tim O'Brien (Another Day), Mary Brookbank (The Jude Mill Song the female equivalent of the preceding trad The Four Loom Weaver) and the great Ewan MacColl (The Ballad of Tim Evans) nestling alongside contributions by Irish writers such as Ger Wolfe (The Curra Road) and her self-penned, intimately delivered Quiet Of The Night.
Love ballads, songs of homesickness, immigration, sweat labour, and the miscarriage of justice paint the emotional landscape in both personal and political colours, etched out in simple acoustic arrangements making haunting use of fiddle, low whistle, flute, mandolin and accordion in a manner that evokes Dolly Parton's recent return to her Appalachian roots.
Name guests include O'Brien, Karen Matheson and Donald Shaw from Capercaillie, and Balfa Toujours banjo man Dirk Powell, but its Casey's pure voice that strikes the most resonant notes, forging an album that while unassumingly understated slowly stakes a strong claim as Celtic CD of the year.
Mike Davies
The Good Lord does like to kick you down when you're on a high. Having returned to the studio after lengthy health problems and releases the highly praised Rules of Travel, the next two years were as dark as they come for Rosanne Cash with death claiming her father, stepmother June Carter and her own mother, Vivian Liberto.
As you might surmise from the title, these all loom large on her new album, dwelling as it does on themes of loss, mortality, grief and acceptance. Book-ended with the voice of her father calling 'come on' and bidding 'bye bye bye', it opens with the title track's funeral farewell, a memorable, tickingly melodic country rock number where she notes that 'one of us gets to go to heaven, one has to stay here in hell' and proceeds through memories of dad with the heated swampy boogie Radio Operator, a reference to Johnny's first job, and the reflective, heart-aching piano ballad I Was Watching You charting his journey from before her birth to his death. Inevitably faith enters the equation, grappling with its loss on the bluesy New Orleans groove of World Without Sound ("I wish I was a Christian, knew what to believe") and finding the divine in the natural world on God Is In The Roses, and, as she adds 'in the thorns'.
Although she musically rips it up on a couple of occasions, notably the rocking rumbling blues boogie of Burn Down This Town with its Hammond organ, the mood is prevailingly quiet and atmospheric, digging into the emotion (but never sentimentality) that veins the likes of the delicately melancholic The World Unseen where (borrowing the 'westward leading, still proceeding' line from We Three Kings Of Orient Are) she observes her parents will live on "in the rhythm of my bloodstream", House On The Lake where she recalls the old family home, and the anger of Like Fugitives "where the church leads you to hell and the lawyers get the money". Inspired by experience, reaching into her heart and blood, this is Cash's best album yet. Following the final track, the simple acoustic soul folk of The Good Intent, the album closes with 71 seconds of silence, one for each year of her father's life. Rarely has silence told such a potently poignant story.
Mike Davies, February 2006
Rosanne Cash - Rules of Travel (Capitol)
It was never intended to take ten years to follow up The Wheel, but having begun work in mid 98 Cash became pregnant and developed a polyp that shut down her vocal chords. Unable to speak let alone sing, the songs sat on the shelf while she turned her energies into writing - stories, magazine articles, a children's book - while wrestling with an identity crisis of shattering proportions. Having defined herself as a performer, who was she if she couldn't sing?
For two and half years she didn't touch a guitar. Then, in late 2000, her voice began to return. Out of shape but capable of resurrection. She began to work once again on the project she'd abandoned. Surprisingly there's nothing here that reflects on what she went through, perhaps that will come later, but one suspects that the array of guest vocalists stems from a fear that her voice might not be up to the task alone. However, while the presence of Sheryl Crow (Beautiful Pain), Steve Earle (I'll Change For You) and Teddy Thompson (Three Steps Down) adds extra lustre to the songs, Cash's voice is as good as it's ever been, perhaps, on the evidence of 44 Stories, Last Stop Before Home and the twangy mid-tempo Closer Than I Appear, even better.
It's a mature, reflective album, John Leventhal's production clean and spare to give her voice the space to breathe and while the majority of the tracks - self-penned or otherwise - revolve around relationships, but two in particular address mortality; Will You Remember Me and September When It Comes. The latter is the fourth of the album's vocal collaborations and while it's not the greatest song in the world it is something of a landmark since it's the first time she's ever duetted on record with her father Johnny. He was ill during recording, but insisted on doing several takes until he felt he'd got it right. Not only does he sound great but the lines about growing old and losing strength add an extra poignancy. Had she not lost her voice ten years ago, it might never have happened. Sometimes fate moves in mysterious ways.
Mike Davies
Mason Casey, blues harmonica king? No, I'd not heard of him either before this CD arrived in the mail. Apparently, he's released three CDs on the French label Dixiefrog since 2000, but nothing in the US - that is, until Northern Blues label supremo Fred Litwin took up the gauntlet and got him together with producer and multi-instrumentalist Jon Tiven (who had already produced Little Milton, B.B. King and Wilson Pickett among others) to make this record. Yes, there's some blues harmonica on here, and a darned good player Mason is too, but this ain't yer average blues harp record, no sir, for Mason's music transcends the blues – it's a soulful blend of blues and R&B with maybe just a little dash of country, but more hard-hitting and upfront than that tag might imply (often there's a downhome earthiness that puts me very much in mind of Creedence Clearwater, as on Blue Hair Woman). What's more, Mason turns out to be a really good singer, with a voice that fuses the grit and energy of classic Memphis/Stax soul with the feel of the blues (Wilson Pickett has compared Mason to Joe Cocker, and I can hear exactly what he means on cuts like Taxi Love). Pulsing, driving 12-bar has never sounded so persuasive as on cuts like Take Me To The Airport (hey bro', you just couldn't refuse Mason a ride!). Only on the title track - whose refrain's a laboured and all-too-obvious play on words for getting across an empty boast – does NYC-born Mason fail to quite convince. But Mason's backing crew (who include Chester Thompson, Jon & Sally Tiven and Mark T. Jordan) certainly do him proud, and Jonell Mosser's backing vocals (heard best on tracks like It Takes A Lotta Love) are brilliant. Oh, and he's even got Steve Cropper special-guesting on guitar on a couple of tracks! With this album Mason has given us a superb example of just what the blues can do for you when it gets a dose of true soul.
David Kidman October 2007
The Cash Brothers - A Brand New Night (Zoe)
The sophomore joint album from Canadian brothers Peter and Andrew who've already earned their place in the Americana hall of fame with their song Nebraska, for the most part this is a match for their How Was Tomorrow debut with its Everly harmonies, ringing guitars (far more electric than their previous acoustic folk-rock sound), circling melodies and songs that deal with contemporary issues (the young man with a gun of the country rock It's Too Late To Say Goodbye) and elationships with equal heft.
They've cited Pink Floyd as an influence this time round. The bad news is that this manifests itself all too drearily on the tired David Gilmour guitar breaks of ploddingly 'funky swagger Give Me Your Hips. The good news is that it's the only time. Otherwise it's either infectious guitar pop as on the opening Shadow of Doubt, the chug rocking Sweet and the most excellent Everly flavours of You're It or aching forlorn ballads like Dealing With The Distance (a terribly sad road song where the singer finds himself in a cold phone booth as he learns his girl's pregnant), the stripped down Into A Brand New Night and, one of the highlights, the aching song of regret that is Tilsburg. The lyrical introspection remains, but with each step the boys are looking increasingly towards musical and emotional horizons.
Mike Davies
In the months leading up to his passing on 12th September 2003, Cash had been recording new material with producer Rick Rubin - material destined for what would turn out to be the final album in the American series, and very different in character from its predecessors. As it would be, for at that time Cash was going through the emotionally and physically painful grieving process following the passing of his wife June, and desperately needed the focus which the activity of concentrating on the recording of a new album provided. Even though he was in frail health, he was concerned more than anything else to get a great vocal performance, the intention being to build up the tracks later when allowing for any re-recording; sadly this latter stage was not possible, and only last year did Rubin get round to going through these recordings, eventually enlisting some of Cash's erstwhile collaborators (six guitarists and a keyboard player) to sympathetically flesh out those final vocal tracks in the studio.
The end result is endearingly casual and yet close and compelling, feeling both uncannily empathic and genuinely supportive; it's a very immediate, and at times profoundly touching set – and it would possess these qualities even without the resonances of subsequent events. And after all the fuss of the inevitable recent spate of repackages, compilations, movie soundtracks and tributes, waiting to release this set was a wise decision I feel, for its intensity and freshness can be appreciated without distraction or hype. Cash's choice of songs is eclectic and yet not surprising given what was obviously on his mind during those painful months. Writers run the gamut from Hank Williams to Springsteen and Hugh Moffatt to Gordon Lightfoot, with Rod McKuen's Love's Been Good To Me as fitting an epitaph as any. There's also two of Cash's own compositions here: firstly, Like The 309, the last song he ever wrote, a decidedly non-valedictory Jimmie Rodgers-style number that coincidentally returns him to the train theme and setting of his first recorded single Hey Porter, and secondly a revisit of I Came To Believe, which addresses the pain of addiction and connecting to a higher power, The heartrending opener, Larry Gatlin's Help Me, sets the tone with a chilling cri-de-cœur that you can't fail to respond to, and backings continue to be kept simple throughout the album, most admirably so. Cash's true voice rings out nakedly to reflect the music that was central to his life at the time of recording, and these twelve songs together make up a unique record that has the most appropriate claim of all to being accorded the status of Cash's final statement.
David Kidman, July 2006
Johnny Cash - My Mother's Hymn Book (Fierce Distribution)
The 'Man in Black' has enjoyed a massive renaissance over the last six months largely due to the success of the movie Walk the Line. Little wonder then that there has been an explosion in the number of Johnny Cash CDs over the last few months, with record labels eager to make the most of the Oscar winning film.
My Mother's Hymn Book first came out in 2004 as part of the Unearthed boxset, but has now been released on its own in the UK by Fierce Distribution. The good news is that it is produced by Rick Rubin, the man responsible for some of Cash's greatest recordings. The bad news is that while it is a good record, there is nothing that reaches the majestic heights of Hurt or Folsom Prison Blues. What you get is 15 songs from a hymn book given to him by his mother, with just Cash's voice and a guitar.
In liner notes, which were written before his death, Cash himself declares this be his favourite CD. 'On that album I nailed it,' he writes. 'That was me.' Anyone who knows the story of Johnny Cash will know how important his Christian faith was to him, and to his wife, June Carter Cash. During his life, he fought many personal demons and won. The Gospel songs on this CD give him a chance to articulate that faith and every track is full of conviction and honesty.
Anyone who is interested in Cash's religious recordings will find an uplifting and thoughtful record. If you are more interested in Cash's legendary hell-raising days, you will find a man who has seen it all, done it all, and who comes truly alive when he strums a guitar and sings.
Jamie Hailstone, May 2006
Johnny Cash - Ring Of Fire: The Legend Of Johnny Cash (Universal Recordings)
So, there are more 'best of' and 'box sets' that you can choose from but, as far as I can see (and that needs a lot of digging), this is the only single CD that fully draws from across his career. We start with the Tijuana brass blast which begins 'Ring Of Fire' running through the early career highlights such as his 'hit', 'A Boy Named Sue', to 'Get Rhythm'. Some of you, including me, may wish to quibble when we get to later selections such as his appearance with U2 on 'The Wanderer'. Even the duet with Willie Nelson on 'Highwayman' sounds a little dated despite the general view that this was also one of the classic periods of his career. Yet, Rick Rubin's guidance towards providing his own versions of classics like 'I've Been Everywhere' as well as reworking of modern classics such as Depeche Mode's 'Personal Jesus' and the aforementioned version of Nine Inch Nail's 'Hurt' was just visionary.
The driving force behind this CD is the controversial film of his life, 'Walk The Line'. Though it has upset some members of his family, this CD does provide a single CD snapshot of his career as a whole. Of course, you may argue that a single CD does not do justice to such a man or that it doesn't fit with those Cash CDs already sat on your shelf. On the other hand, if you have a friend who steadfastly sees Cash as no more than a bloke who knocked out a comic hit single, just thrust a copy of this in their hand - life will not be the same.
Steve Henderson
Johnny Cash - Unearthed Vol 1-5 (America)
In the works prior to Cash's death last year, this magnificent five disc box set collection gathers together 64 previously unissued off cuts (well 63 since one track, Book Review, is, er, Cash discussing a book he'd read) from his recording sessions for Rick Rubin's America records along with a 15 track best of. Although Cash's legend had never been in doubt, the label restored his credibility and fire, arresting the almost casual carelessness that had taken over his recording career and providing and inspiration and outlet for the man's passions. For many his last album, The Man Comes Around, would rank among the five best he'd ever made.
Yet, as this collection reveals, while incredibly prolific not everything passed his litmus test for inclusion on the four albums for which they were originally planned. But as even a cursory listen demonstrates, the stuff Cash put on hold would be the envy of lesser mortals. Although Vol 4, My Mother's Hymn Book (arguably the most potent of the lot) clearly has a self-explanatory context as, stripped to the bone of voice and guitar, Cash rumbles his way through such traditional religious material as When The Roll, Where The Soul of Man Never Dies, I'll Fly Away and I'd Bound For The Promised Land, the three other discs of unreleased material aren't thematically compiled. Except of course that, in keeping with his long time subject matter, it's hard to escape just how many songs deal with death, dying, regret and release from mortal toil.
Cash was a master of the cover version, taking a song and making it his own and there's some sterling examples here, both of contemporary and old school material. Kristofferson, of whom Cash was an early champion, provides two numbers on Who's Gonna Cry, Casey's Last Ride and Just The Other Side of Nowhere, while on Vol 2, Trouble In Mind, Neil Young does likewise with resonant versions of Pocahontas and Heart Of Gold, Cash reaching into the belly of his soul as he sings 'I'm gettin' old'. The same disc features two takes of Dolly Parton's I'm A Drifter (the big orchestra Heartbreak Version and the stripped back, slower bluesy Flea Version) and a chunky blues burping guitar take on Steve Earle's Devil's Right Hand but what characterises this set is Cash in his rock n roll as he loosens up and barrels his way through the likes of Brown-Eyed Handsome Man, Down The Line, I'm Movin' On and Everybody's Trying To Be My Baby on which he's joined by Carl Perkins. There's also a great live orchestral recording of Bird On A Wire on which Cash has his musicians in stitches as he declares he can't find the key of F on his guitar. It also includes a couple of duets, with Willie Nelson on Cash's own Like A Soldier and Tom Petty on Merle Haggard's The Running Kind, and, always one for a keen musical coupling, there's three more on Vol 3's Redemption Songs; a not entirely successful Father and Son with Fiona Apple who sounds like she's struggling to be heard over Cash's vibrant bass, Nick Cave in unusually frisky mood for the trad bluegrass dappling Cindy, and, one of the set's biggest highlights, a teaming with the late Joe Strummer on the Marley track that gives the volume its title. There's a couple of disappointing inclusions here though, a routine version of He Stopped Loving Her Today that completely misses the ache of the George Jones original hit and, after a winning reading of Glen Campbell's Wichita Lineman he then does a totally lacklustre Gentle On My Mind. That said, compensations are plentiful, not least an unexpected slow acoustic country interpretation of the old standard You Are My Sunshine, a churchy organ backed You'll Never Walk Alone that really digs into its hymnal qualities and an early take of The Man Comes Around.
You can niggle about the Best Of disc's inexplicable omission of his total recasting of Petty's I Won't Back Down, but there's really little cause to complain about the overall excellence of this epitaph to country music's greatest voice. Who's gonna cry for John he sings on Vol 1. Just the world, just the world.
Mike Davies
Johnny Cash - The Man Comes Around (American)
Given his recent health scares, it's not surprising that the man in black's latest album should be veined with songs of mortality and a calling in. Produced once again by label boss Rick Rubin we're in apocalypse mood from the offset with Cash's The Man Comes Around, a Revelations inspired tale of sorting the what from the chaff come Armageddon's trumpets. It doesn't much lighten up from this point.
Give My Love To Rose is a cowboy song about coming across a dying man, Sam Hall a jaunty tune about a convicted murderer at his hanging, and Tear Stained Letter's bitter accusations of a faithless lover make up the rest of the self-penned numbers in what can hardly be called a mood of boundless joy and optimism. The covers though are more balanced and again mark the inspired choices he's recorded since linking with Rubin.
Taking the gloom first there's a sparse acoustic treatment of Nine Inch Nails man Trent Reznor's songs of quite literally self-lacerating self-loathing, then there's I Hung My Head, Sting's grim anti-gun cowboy tale of a man accidentally killing a stranger, The Eagles' world weary Desperado (Don Henley on vocals) twinned with Hank Williams's melancholic hobo lament I'm So Lonesome I Could Cry on which Cash duets with Nick Cave, and, back in Western territory, the traditional Streets of Laredo, a cheery song you'll recall about a young cowboy wrapped in a shroud and dying of gunshot wounds.
But if there's death then there's also salvation. Depeche Mode's Personal Jesus seems an unlikely addition to the Cash repertoire but picked out on strummed guitar and mid tempo boogie woogie piano it comes over with the smell of a fire and brimstone preacher man he's conjured many a time before. The promise of Christ's salvation comes in less intense mood with Bridge Over Troubled Water, again framed with Cash's grumbling voice against a simple acoustic guitar, backing vocals (from Fiona Apple) and piano slowly entering the mix. Since we're in a religious frame of mind, it's not hard to put that interpretation to his renditions of Ewan MacColl's First Time Ever I Saw Your Face (Cash's devotional vocal set to churchy organ backing) or even his cracked and weary version of Lennon & McCartney's In My Life.
Which just leaves two tracks, both moving from salvation to acceptance and peace. The evergreen Danny Boy here becomes a calling home, a reunion with those who've gone before, the album closing in no accidental fashion with the entire Cash gang on vocals, Jack Clement behind dobro, Laura Cash on fiddle and Terry Harrington on jazz clarinet as he bids a spoken farewell with We'll Meet Again that could almost have been a goodbye to wife June in the event of his passing. Praise the Lord.
www.americanrecordings.com
www.johnnycash.com
Mike Davies
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June Carter Cash - Keep On The Sunny Side: Her Life In Music (Columbia/Legacy)
This two-disc collection is intended as a companion to the above-reviewed lavish celebration of The Man In Black, so I'll get the piffling gripe out of the way first - that it duplicates a few tracks from that four-disc box. In all other respects, however, this is a useful and reasonably comprehensive overview (perhaps unbelievably, the first proper anthology) of the recording career of this vital and versatile lady who spent virtually her entire life onstage.
It begins with a glimpse of June at the tender age of 10 with the original Carter Family group in 1939 (two radio recordings), then moves on through her cornball humour/"Homer & Jethro" phase (yep, that Baby, It's Cold Outside parody!) and sundry 50s and early 60s sides; all that's on Disc 1, with the circle closed at the end of the disc by reprising the title track in the celebrated 1963 duet version with Johnny Cash.
Disc 2 covers the post-marriage years, and has as its centrepiece the entire contents (ten tracks) of June's first solo LP, 1975's Appalachian Pride; there's one previously unreleased cut (Song For John, from the same year as that LP - for all I know, it may be from the actual same sessions, but since I've not been sent the booklet with the CDs I can't say!), and a track from her guest appearance with the NGDB on their 2002 album, then closes with June's final (2003) rendition of that title track, taken from the living-room session that produced the posthumously-released Wildwood Flower album, which carries the Carter Family on into another generation with the presence of June's granddaughter.
The whole collection has clearly been put together with care and thought and an appreciation of June's talent not only as a singer but also as a songwriter (all but two of the tracks on Disc 2 are either composed or jointly composed by June herself). Given the sheer volume of music that has been produced by June and Johnny over the span of their 40-year romance (early 60s through to their deaths, a mere three months apart), it's a very fair selection, 40 tracks, born out of what must have been a near-impossible task.
David Kidman
Footstompin' is a fair description - I'd defy you to keep still during the opening salvo from this young bagpipe player with a rockin' sensibility. He plays the traditional tunes with all due fire and grace, backed by a rhythm section that really rocks – by which I mean just that, in the straightahead meaning of the term rather than befuddling us with complicated time-signatures and experimental fusion. Stuart was awarded the accolade of BBC Radio Scotland's Young Traditional Musician of 2005, following a storming performance at Glasgow's Royal Concert Hall in January of that year, and his playing is certainly both breathtaking and genuinely engaging; his feel for expressing the rhythm within the skirl is infectious, and may endear his playing to those who don't normally appreciate piping. Oh, and he's already established his cred outside of folk circles by performing at the T In The Park festival, as well as live and on record with rockers The Darkness, and on the soundtrack of a Harry Potter film… But back to the matter in hand: here on Blown Away, Stuart proves himself every bit as adept on the Border pipes as the Highland bagpipes, and the disc is engineered in such a way as to enable his brave band of supporting musicians (Ross Kennedy, Douglas Miller, Craig Strain and Paul Jennings) to be heard, and further chinks in the texture allow for guest contributions from Martin O'Neill (check out his stunning solo on Moran And The Bodhrán!), Simon Moran, Sandy Meldrum and Nick Hawryliw. For it must be said that the prospect of a whole 50+-minute album of full-on piping would be too much for most listeners… which is why by track 4 Stuart has willingly put down his pipes and given Lorne MacDougall's low whistle the spotlight for his deliciously relaxed composition Ginny's Tune. Stuart then further rings the changes with a fine version of Ewan MacColl's Terror Time well sung by Ross Kennedy. There's also an uproarious live bonus track, recorded straight after Stuart's BBC awards victory, which follows a long and reverent silence after his brilliant set in tribute to Gordon Duncan, the disc's dedicatee. Last but not least, Stuart brings on his touring band, the catchily-named Red Hot Chilli Pipers ensemble, for the Hills Of Argyll set, and this is perhaps the only instance on the whole disc where I cringed a little at the "spectacle" impact of the climax. But elsewhere, Stuart and his crew provide a modest and persuasive demonstration of skill and musicianship: so be ye prepared to be blown away! For, vibrant and energetic, this is an unmissable debut from Stuart that both promises and delivers much.
David Kidman July 2007
After the posthumous success of the Songbird and Time After Time compilations and the subsequent surge of sales of the three albums from whence the material came, now comes a collection of previously unissued recordings that seem set to repeat its predecessor's chart topping performance. Again the songs have been culled from various periods of Cassidy's career, the Blues Alley sessions this time producing a smoky version of Billie Holiday favourite You've Changed while the solo/guitar vocal recordings originally made as club audition tapes now yield up Tennessee Waltz (a starker, more forlorn version than the Patti Page hit) and an intimate interpretation of the Lennon classic that provides the album title. Elsewhere you'll find a crisply recorded take on Fever that harks back to the Little Willie John r&b original and features Eva's brother Dan on violin (the track will also feature on a projected Eva/Dan duets album), a tired eyes version of Sandy Denny's Who Knows Where The Time Goes recorded live in 1995 during the Maryland Inn sessions. The real collector's nuggets though are those drawn from two studio recordings with other musicians and the Live At Pearl tapes recorded in Sept 94 and, until recently, thought only to exist as poor quality copies.
The former comprises Stevie Wonder's I Can Only Be Me recorded in 1990, a passionate big ballad reading with Cassidy in full voice accompanied by Lenny Williams on piano, and Still Not Ready, written by keyboardist Chris Izzi and finding a young Cassidy (it was recorded in 1987) exploring film noir soundscapes. The Pearl tapes (of which more will follow) provide folkier sounds with Paul Anka's It Doesn't Matter Anymore, Gordon Lightfoot's Early Morning Rain and, with Cassidy doing an Over the Rainbow refurb, a disarming, emotional version of the old chestnut Danny Boy. The legacy lives on
Mike Davies
This fine CD is one of those gentle delights that totally enchants on first play and lingers with you for long after. The Cast is an engaging duo who over the years they've been together have made too few records, Greengold being but album number three (the previous two came out on the Culburnie label). A bald description of the disc ("a neat collection of songs and tunes played and sung most attractively"), though essentially accurate, does the release absolutely no justice, however. Although Mairi Campbell and Dave Francis still specialise in the songs of Robert Burns, and Greengold contains a couple of prime examples (The Lea-Rig and the nowadays seemingly ubiquitous Red, Red Rose), this time they also treat us to four of their own compositions, which are quite simply sublime. The opener, Smile Or Cry, lives up to its title, being one of those achingly wistful songs that stirs and mixes the emotions so very persuasively and memorably, while There Is A Light seeks and finds basic hope and solace in the presence of nature. Song For Cove, which powerfully mingles sung and spoken delivery, was written for the 125th anniversary of a disastrous storm off the East Lothian coast, while the coolly jazzy Deirdre's Song celebrates the endearingly positive personality of Deirdre Armstrong. On all of these, plus a couple of traditional songs (including Higher Germany, learnt from the singing of Phoebe Smith), Mairi shows just how fine a singer she is as well as a talented fiddler. Mairi also contributes some tunes from her own pen, both being affectionate and loving tributes to close acquaintances but seriously beautiful tunes in their own right. Although the basic pulse of the disc is gently flowing, Mairi and Dave don't confine themselves to gentility however, whooping it up nicely on the pipe reel Miss Betty Ann Gordon. One other impressive feature of the CD is the spare-yet-full sound that's achieved by producer Jack Evans, incorporating a tiny modicum of additional musical contributions (Derek Hoy's fiddle on two tracks, Robin Galloway's double bass on one and Jack's own shruti box drone on another) to thoughtfully embellish Mairi's wonderful fiddle playing and Dave's exceptional, economic and carefully moulded guitar lines. Finally, although I'm a firm believer in quality over quantity, I'd still quibble a tad at the disc's brevity (40 minutes). But Greengold remains an immensely pleasurable, and most treasurable, CD.
David Kidman October 2007
The self-styled "storyteller who sings half his stories" returns with a typically convivial programme of mainly songs with a couple of short stories and a dance instrumental thrown in. Pete's latterly celebrated 30 years as a folk professional, and he's achieved this longevity through a combination of genuine talent, integrity and sheer hard work, reliably ploughing his own steady furrow where tradition is the starting-point for his own musical exploration rather than a constraint on his imagination. Although the true extent of Pete's prowess and the full measure of his easygoing nature necessarily comes through best in live performance, his CDs have always been a source of delight and have satisfied enough to be returned to more often than you might think. 1995's False Waters was a hard act to follow, but Poor Old Horse will probably come to be reckoned the finest, partly because it conveys an extra degree of as-live immediacy in its performances. Aside from Pete's own pleasing and gently accomplished guitar work, the dextrous and vital musical accompaniment is provided by Doug Eunson (melodeon), Sarah Matthews (fiddle, viola) and Edmund Hunt (whistle, Northumbrian pipes), with Doug, Sarah and Pete's wife Sue on backing vocals. As far as the choice of material is concerned, most of the nine songs here are ones that Pete's been aware of for a long while even if he's not sung them himself – but he turns to them with enthusiasm, finding (or creating from different or disparate sources) credible performing versions, with the end result that the songs "come back fresh and strong". Several of the songs come from Kent (where Pete was born and brought up) or Derbyshire (his home for the past 20 years), but whatever their geographical origins they tend to have as connecting thread what Pete refers to as the underlying "lingua franca" of symbolism which exists within all true folk songs. Pete can be relied upon to turn in well-considered and thoroughly amenable renditions of his chosen material, and the pick of the current bunch are probably the less-often-heard transportation song Virginia, the bawdy Firelock Stile (from the repertoire of Harry Cox) and Poor Sally Sits A-Weeping (aka Once I Had A Sweetheart). And, as we all know by now, Pete's a perennially genial and quietly captivating storyteller, supremely confident in his art. No surprises then I suppose, but just a thoroughly dependable (and replayable) set.
David Kidman June 2008
Now here's an interesting one. A six piece from Melbourne who are massive in Australia and at the Edinburgh Festival alike, they serve up a playful concoction of jazz, soul, hip-hop, salsa, reggae and rock that defies anyone not to get up and shake a hip or two.
Musically, it's not exactly original but, led by vocalist Felix Riebl, these guys give it a kick up the backside with slick playing and a solid energy. Recorded in Cuba with BVSC producer Jerry Boys behind the knobs, Sly's driving beat, blasts of brass, and sweeping boogie woogie keyboards evokes the 60s garage soul of Sam the Sham if they had Strine accents, slipping into a Latin groove for In My Pocket and rollicking along on a rock n rolling The Car Song.
The Cuban experience is spread all over Sol Y Sombra, a track that'll get cha cha fans on their feet while Lullaby is a lazy tropical jazzed incarnation of Madness, Lullaby a scratching 60s calypso gone hip hop hybrid that sounds bizarrely like Chas n Dave crossed with Kid Coconut and Protons, Neutrons, Electrons a sort of zip ah dee doo dah jug band soft shoe shuffle love song that almost harks back to the days of the Mixtures.
Originally released here last year, it's now being reissued minus a couple of tracks but featuring five from their self-titled debut, including the party happy Hello and the Latino reggae lurching brass soaked mournful The Lost Song which sound like Havana versions of The Street, Aussie hip hop rapping The Rhythms and a boozy klezmer carnival swaying The Wine Song. Purrfect.
Mike Davies June 2007
If I Could Holler is the eleventh album release from Catfish, a truly unique musician whose ongoing evangelical mission is to tour the world with his deep, foot-stomping acoustic blues and roots music; and he still regularly plays to packed houses whenever he tours the UK. Just when you might think the well containing the world's supply of Catfish Brand rootsy delta-blues might be running dry, this latest collection comes up trumps with a totally fresh new chapter. Of course, it's always a miracle to hear the way Catfish plays, lovingly caressing the notes and expressive import out of his equally lovingly tended guitars, so much so that they're like an extension of his own physical body (as has already been observed by the blues commentators, but it don't hurt to say it again!). Such is his command of the music that he always fully realises his vision, which is to find "the richest expression possible out of one guitar, vocals and stomping feet". And altho' I've seen Catfish play live at least half a dozen times and I own all his albums, I still sat open-mouthed through this new record, such is the guy's tremendous command of his craft - and his listeners! The album contains original songs as well as ones "recomposed from the influence of musical giants", and forms a seamless and well-contrasted sequence of as-live performances captured with stunning immediacy by engineer Justin Kennedy. Several of the titles are revisits of stuff Catfish had recorded earlier or has been performing for many years - and it forms an interesting exercise in comparison (I wouldn't want to be without either). And hey, so what if some of the titles are well-worn too - good ol' Catfish still brings something special to each and every one of 'em! He carefully chooses an instrument suited to his interpretation of each title (here, two acoustics and four different Nationals - 12-string, baritone, wood and metal bodies), and as ever his control of phrasing, rhythm, dynamics and harmonics is more than exemplary, in perfect phase with his vocal work. Malted Milk, taken at a drippingly leisurely pace, fairly steams with juicy innuendo, and as usual Catfish excels on the sanctified selections like Cross The River Of Jordan (learnt from Blind Willie McTell) and Joseph Spence's Gonna Live That Life (With Music In My Soul). His recomposed Skip James number (My Gal) contains the priceless line "She's got a head just like some two-by-four in some lumberyard"! Jitterbug Swing is funkier than ever, I swear, while Catfish shows he can even give us a new perspective on the folk ballad The Cuckoo, for goddamn's sake! On the final cut (Mississippi John Hurt's Satisfied, Tickled Too), partner Penny brings her own voice to blend in - delicious! I could say (at the risk of a well-worn pun!) that Iowa hefty debt of gratitude to this guy for all the fantastic music over the past 20 or so years, and for all he's done to spread the gospel.
David Kidman May 2008
The mighty Catfish's tenth album sees him effortlessly consolidating his status as one of the world's premier bluesmen, continuing with what he terms his "original vision of the deepest acoustic solo blues and roots music". No more accurate description could I ever proffer for the dude's ever-dazzling display of empathy with his chosen idiom and his fantastic instrumental prowess that fair knocks you sideways whether you're right there in concert with him or just listenin' to a CD. And Sweet Pea might just be Catfish's best album yet, I reckon (and there've been some!). Catfish turns the most well-worn of material into refreshing explorations into almost unknown territory - his restless yet at the same time highly purposeful excursions across the fretboard of his brand new 12-string National Tricone on Leadbelly's When I Was A Cowboy sure evoke all that pioneering western spirit and wanderlust, while Gus Cannon's jugband classic I'm Going To German gets a new lease of life at the close of this CD and Catfish's use of the Baritone Tricone imparts the requisite mournfulness to Poor Boy Long Ways From Home. Best of the 13 tracks for me, though, are the pindrop moments like Catfish's slow-brooding and superbly atmospheric rendition of Sister Rosetta Tharpe's Lightning Flash, Thunder Roll and the truly haunting Hawaiian-blues-style instrumental Deep Sea Moan (inspired by M.K. Moke's famous Moana Chimes), the dreamy melody of which is said to permeate all Hawaiian music. Grittier highlights come with Catfish's delicious falsetto treatment of Skip James' cheeky Put Your Bucket In Your Basket and his admittedly portmanteau "sanctified" A True Friend Is Hard To Find (a Catfish original that was inspired by a combination of Blind Willie Johnson, Son House and Washington Phillips), one of six tracks on which Catfish is accompanied by Marty Christensen on seriously beefy stand-up bass. Most every track turns out to hit highlight status while you play the disc thru' tho'! I loved Catfish's choice of resonant Radio Tone National to back his take on the old-time banjo tune Blotted Out My Mind that cannily evokes both Mike Seeger and the ghost of Dock Boggs; and on Little Sweet Pea, written in affectionate tribute to his true love Penny, Catfish proves irresistibly charming. Whether essaying interpretations of ancient blues tunes or concocting juicy originals, Catfish employs an adventurously wide tonal palette through the judicious use of different guitars, yet through all his experimentation never once loses sight of the essence of the music. He never fails to set my spine a-tinglin' too. So, if you want an hour-long fix of totally tasty, totally authentic and yet invigoratingly innovative Delta blues, then hey, Sweet Pea's for you, right enough. And if you don't get hooked by that ol' Catfish right away, then shame on ya!
David Kidman
Pauline Cato - New Tyne Bridge (Tomcat Music)
The beaming visage of the lovely, warm-hearted Northumbrian piper Pauline shines out from the front and back portraits of this CD. Pauline's usually seen gigging around the folk circuit in tandem with the (also perennially beaming) fiddle maestro Tom McConville, but here she treats us to a new solo CD with no fiddle in earshot! Of course, with so many years of virtuoso piping under her belt now, the last twelve of these as a professional musician, no further proof should be needed that Pauline's one of the country's finest exponents of Northumbrian pipery. As well as being a highly respected tutor of the Northumbrian pipes, Pauline's rapidly gained a reputation for expanding the repertoire of the instrument and has been involved in countless stimulating new projects, while for the past three years her post as Research Fellow at Sheffield University has enabled her to further examine and explore performance style and repertoire issues. All this has now culminated in the release of New Tyne Bridge, which includes many of her favourites among the tunes she's unearthed in her recent research into archives and manuscript collections. I'd imagine (though Pauline's wonderfully detailed booklet notes don't specify the fact) that the majority of the tunes chosen for performance on this CD might be première recordings (but I wouldn't claim to have in-depth knowledge of this repertoire!). Pauline's technique is precise and exacting yet far from soulless, for her playing is at once breathtakingly exciting (there are some incredibly tricky rhythms to negotiate in these tunes!) and highly musical. One might argue that it's so richly textured in itself that it needs no accompaniment, but here she's backed selectively and most dextrously by (in various permutations) Phil Cunningham (piano and cittern), Dave Wood (guitar), Ciarán Boyle (bodhrán) and Christine Hanson (cello) on around two-thirds of the 16 tracks (the rest are purely solo excursions). Pauline has clearly made every effort to present an appetisingly balanced menu in terms of pace, mood and texture, and with such vital, sensitive and abundantly tasteful playing from all participants there's no trace of cloistered academic sterility, so New Tyne Bridge can only be described as an absolute delight from start to finish.
David Kidman
This album is the first recorded fruit of the collaboration between three of the most highly regarded North Eastern musicians on the folk circuit, and, like the live shows given by this acclaimed touring partnership, features an exhilarating sequence that alternates lively dance tunes with moving, delicate airs and beautifully managed songs. It's so attractive a listen that you don't quite realise you're missing the visual dimension, since you can virtually hear fiddler/vocalist Tom's wide grin and chuckling repartee, not to mention the permanently beaming visages of both piper Pauline and guitarist Terry, communicated in their total enjoyment of the music they play so well. Virtuosity and musicality have never been more effectively (and effortlessly) partnered than in this outfit, a shining example of what can be achieved by three musicians who have a striking empathy that's at the same time canny and uncanny. Every track's stunning in its impact, and it's unusual to find a studio CD that comes as close to capturing the vital presence of a live act as this CD does; all that's missing is Tom's repartee with the audience (and himself - isn't that right Tom?, yes mate…). All three players have an innate versatility that makes any combination of their collaboration an exciting and enriching experience for them each time they perform, and this excitement is conveyed to the listener in the immediacy of their realisations of the chosen songs and tunes. Of the songs, the two penned by the underrated Ewen Carruthers might well prove to be the cream of the crop, whereas my favourites among the tunes are probably the opening set of reels and the final set of marches, whereas the combination of Mark Knopfler's Sailing To Philadelphia with the popular Fisher's Hornpipe is nothing short of inspired; but honestly there's no weak link. If you appreciate joyous and seriously scintillating playing presented in a sympathetically accomplished blend of subtlety and energy, then look no further.
David Kidman
Jim's come a long way since his original Best Newcomer nomination in the 2006 Radio 2 Folk Awards, with a further award nomination this year for the CD (Blood And Honey) by the trio he sings with, The Devil's Interval. Jim's also appeared with Waterson: Carthy, and as part of a duo with Waulk Elektrik's James Dumbelton (who plays guitar and mandolin on this, Jim's second solo CD), and now he's gone on to form the ensemble Mawkin: Causley with vibrant young foursome Mawkin (whose fiddle player James Delarre appears on three of the tracks here). Lost Love Found enjoys a self-evident thematic continuity through varying interpretations of songs and ballads of heartbreak and lament, and indeed of the wider concept of love itself. This brief enables Jim to tackle a similarly wide stylistic range of material across and outwith that emanating from the expected traditional folk sources. Jim's blessed with a rich warm baritone voice which (and this is less often encountered in a singer than you might think) is equally impressive on deeply sensitive and lighter or more comic material. He combines a companionable presence with a technique that's both accommodating and accessible, while his accordion playing is dextrous and sympathetically moulded too, with evident compassion but also commendable restraint alongside the desire to fill out the sound and underpin his singing voice. Jim chooses to open the CD with a refreshingly straightforward variant of Polly Vaughn which typifies his measured and respectful approach to a text while leaving room for expressive contouring as appropriate. There's more than a hint of Tony Rose about the quality of relaxed vocal assurance that Jim brings to any song he tackles, notwithstanding any textual or interpretational innovations he introduces. Jim's unaccompanied treatment of Oxford City and his chilling duet with Sandra Kerr on Lady All Skin And Bone are both outstanding, as in a different way is his take on Wild Rover, which borrows from the wistful approach of the "southern variant" originally collected by Cyril Tawney and further adopted by Brian Peters & Gordon Tyrrall, and Sandra Kerr's Appalachian dulcimer is a brilliant choice for accompanying instrument. A couple of the selections in the latter half of the disc will surprise the traditionalists: Autumn Days is that old primary-school chestnut (well that's what Jim calls it), given a strummy, chummy Formby-uke-style setting that's either utterly charming or infuriatingly twee depending on your view of the song I suppose (I actually rather like it). Traitor's Love, on the other hand, is a contemporary composition by George Papavgeris, whose (singing) voice is the first you hear on the track (the song takes the form of a dialogue); this song needs a few plays, for its meaning is slower to reveal itself than its swift pace and lively, busy setting might at first appear to allow. But elsewhere I'm still unsure about Jim's decision to leave intact the wilful narratorial gender ambiguities of Loving Hannah, even though his choice and style of accompaniment (fiddle, mandolin and accordion) are first-rate. At the end of the tenth song, Rolling Of The Stones, however, the album just stops dead in its tracks (so to speak), and I really was left wondering whether I'd got a faulty pressing until I checked the list of songs on the back cover which confirmed it was no fault, that really is the end of the disc. It's a disconcertingly short album, and thus not only poor value for money at a mere 36 minutes but - more importantly - it definitely leaves me with a feeling of having been shortchanged artistically (good though this is, Jim's capable of delivering more, I believe) and, crucially, a niggling residual sense of insubstantiality about the album as a whole (which is very probably unfair and) which doesn't wholly surface until after the disc has exited the player before its anticipated time. And I was also mildly surprised that the otherwise attractive booklet, most unusually for WildGoose, appears to have been less than usually carefully proofread. But basically, what the disc contains is fine - it's just that there's not enough of it.
David Kidman November 2007
When most artists bung out a compilation like this it's usually a contract filler or a stop gap padding out of odds and ends that were never considered good enough to make an album or see light of day. Cave on the other hand come sup with a triple CD box set that easily ranks among the best he's released. B sides, outtakes and alternative versions (all featuring the band rather than Cave solo or collaborating elsewhere) trawled from across a twenty one year career that takes in soundtracks, tribute albums and radio sessions, it's a goldmine of collectable gems.
Taking the covers for example, you get a Link Wray style rumble through Cohen's Tower of Song that's like injecting the song with viagra, a mood equally evident on Leadbelly's Black Betty, while Cave taps into the emotion shredding qualities of Orbison's Running Scared and Young's world weary Helpless to such effect you're amazed his heart didn't burst during recordings. Or then, over on Vol II, there's his fine boozed up duet with Shane MacGowan and What A Wonderful World and MacGowan's own Rainy Night In Soho alongside a loose limbed version of trad murder ballad Knoxville Girl that brims over with seething brutality sung through clenched, spittle-flecked teeth.
Acoustic variations of The Mercy Seat, Deanna (which also works as a cover of Oh Happy Day), Jack the Ripper and City of Refuge sit alongside a band recording of Black Hair while, for the completist, there's a generous clutch of previously unreleased material, most notably the moody, sinewy menacing version of Red Right Hand recorded for the Scream 3 soundtrack, barroom waltzer There's No Night Out In The Jail from an unissued Australian country cover versions collection, studio outtakes of Sheep May Safely Graze and Opium Tea and, for the really curious, a version of Where The Wild Roses Grow with Blixa Bargeld providing the guide vocal that would be later supplied by Kylie Minogue. It comes, naturally enough, in a simple black box. Johnny Cash would be proud.
www.nickcaveandthebadseeds.com
Mike Davies
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds - Nocturama (Mute)
More songs of dark romanticism then that find the guru of gloom and the Seeds (Warren Ellis's violin headily to the fore) in surpassingly optimistic mood with the opening Wonderful Life in which he proclaims for seven minutes that life is, um, wonderful. If you find it that is.
Then on to the gorgeously Celtic-country lilting He Wants You in which a man rows his boat to his lover, despite "the wind that blowed Horribly 'round his ears." Right Out Of Your Hand and (another dose of Celtic mists) Bring It On (on which he's joined by Chris Bailey from The Saints) have their shade of melancholy, but remain essentially moving devotions. It's not all such relaxed contentment though. The musically splenetic Dead Man In My Bed spits guitar wire and organ dementia all over the show as a woman rages against the blank space with whom she shares her home, the final 15 minute list song Babe, I'm On Fire is a raging chaotic torrent of 'world gone mad' invective caught up in the flames of hell, and, lest you fear he's come over all happy ever after in his notion of love's web, on the waltzing Rock Of Gilbralter he spends two third of the song extolling the firm foundations of the relationship only to wind up asking "Could the powers that be Ever foresee That things could so utterly alter? All the plans that we laid Could soon be betrayed Betrayed like the Rock of Gibraltar."
Those new to Cave's work are usually referred to Dylan, Cohen and, more recently, Tindersticks while the cod-trad folk She Passed By My Window suggests one might also profitably cite Jackie Leven and his old countrymen The Triffids, but as on his eleven previous albums with the Seeds he remains a distinctively original voice.
Mike Davies
I guess if a bluegrass princess and a [heavy] metal rock god can unite on a bunch of cover tunes and succeed in grabbing a Grammy, then the field is wide open for musical experimentation. In the case of the Cedar Hill Refugees, musically speaking, East meets West. The experiment began in the city of Tashkent, in the Central Asian country of Uzbekistan where Oklahoma born Jack Clift has intermittently resided during the 21st century. As a composer, Clift is best known for fusing genres of music. He co-founded the American-Uzbek band, Jadoo which included string player Toir Kuziev who has toured with Peter Gabriel, recruited famed local guitarist Enver Ismaylov and cut the basic tracks for Pale Imperfect Diamond using numerous traditional instruments unique to the region. Taking the results to John Carter Cash's Cabin Studio in Hendersonville, Tennessee, contributions from numerous country/bluegrass musicians and vocalists were added. The cast of stellar contributors include The Peasall Sisters, Dr. Ralph Stanley, Marty Stuart and John Cowan. The collective of participants subsequently adopted the name Cedar Hill Refugees.
Some three years in the making, the thirteen cuts on Pale Imperfect Diamond are composed of seven traditional [American/European] songs and a cover of A. P. Carter's Wildwood Flower, rounded off by a handful of tunes specially composed for the project. Supported by Sarah Peasall, Clift takes the lead vocal on the opening track - the traditional Whitehouse Blues – which recalls the 1901 assassination in Buffalo, New York of President William McKinley, and Vice-President Theodore Roosevelt's subsequent ascendance as leader of his nation. Bookended sonically by Ron Miles' coronet, Ralph Stanley delivers a haunting vocal rendition of the traditional gospel song Keys To The Kingdom, and it's followed by The Wife Of Usher's Well, aka Child Ballad # 79, featuring the sweet voices of The Peasall Sisters. The fourth track, Oh, Bury Me Not, also a traditional number paints portraits of endless prairies and vast blue skies, with John Cowan in the role of lead vocalist.
The album title song, track five, is credited to Jack Clift, John Carter Cash & Jack Propps, the acid test being would it sound out of place relative to the 'East meets West' Carter Family style musical fusion that preceded it. Written at the outset of project, the lyric could be interpreted as an observation on the musical mission Messrs Clift and Cash were embarking upon. Excuse the pun, but it's a gem. Cash and Clift share the vocal duties while Enver Izmaylov supports on tapped guitar, [a method he and American jazz guitarist Stanley Jordan evolved simultaneously, BUT independently]. Fred Kinsel is a sometime Clift co-writer and their wistful Colors Of The Sky is reminiscent of Michael Martin Murphey's writing during his Cosmic Colorado heyday.
Another traditional selection, Clift is supported on Stormalong by the Uzbek freestyle vocals of Ravshon Namazov. Polly's Last Ride is credited to Clift/Cash, although in truth it borrows much from its better known [and traditional] step-sister Pretty Polly. Marty Stuart is the lead voice, while Sarah, Hannah and Leah Peasall harmonise on Green Grows The Laurel a traditional Celtic tale of love lost. At a tad over seven minutes duration Wildwood Flower is the longest cut, and after the Peasall girls and Laura Cash, John Carter's champion fiddle playing wife, sing their hearts out, the track closes with a four minute plus long Jadoo [instrumental] jam. Claw hammer banjo player Tom Adler, an acquaintance since high school, is Clift's collaborator on the wistful love themed Final Kiss. The final traditional offering Sailaway Ladies, is by far the wildest most daring sonic selection, features Jadoo's Kobiljon Shapirov and Nodir Raimov playing the Karnay - aka the Central Asian long trumpet. Pale Imperfect Diamond draws to a close with the Clift/Cash co-write Candle, a reflection on mankind's Earthbound journey.
A couple of year's ago I was thoroughly impressed by Cash's production of Jonathan Elias' The American River. Every once in a while a recording comes along that simply rewrites the handbook. Pale Imperfect Diamond is definitely one of the latter.
10 out of 10
www.myspace.com/cedarhillrefugees
www.effigyrecords.net
Arthur Wood, Kerrville Kronikles April 2009
This Mayo-based outfit released their debut Like A Wild Thing in 2001, and at the time I forecast a promising future for them. However, its followup has been a long time in coming, I'd guess possibly due to the expansion of the lineup into a six-piece with the addition of fine singer Marianne Knight (who also plays flute and bodhrán) - though somewhat confusingly Marianne only appears on six of the album's 13 tracks... The thoughtful and sensibly restrained attack of the instrumental playing that I'd noted on Céide's debut CD is still there in plenty, with if anything perhaps an even better-defined sense of proportion in the balance between the front-line (melody) and supporting/rhythm parts, as the set of reels at track 3 in particular demonstrates. Céide also continue to exhibit a flair for inspired instrumental arrangement, with unusual touches like employing no less than three whistles in counterpoint on Charlie Lennon's Wedding March that opens track 4 and weaving a dobro around in the texture on the Air & Reel set at track 8. Then again, the spirited set of polkas (track 9) shows what a stunning and complete sound just three instruments (here Tom Doherty's accordion, Brian Lennon's flute and John McHugh's fiddle) can make, and Tom's exchanges accordion for melodeon (an instrument not often heard in Irish traditional music) on the track 12 set of reels, to good effect. The thundering CD closer is another, even more rousing set of reels. As for the songs, well I liked Marianne's pacey, refreshingly unsentimentalised treatment of John O' Dreams, but I found her tone and effort a little too forthright for Declan Askin's beautiful, optimistic Western Waves (it needs a gentler approach I feel). It also took a couple of plays for me to be convinced by the almost rockabilly-jazz treatment of Bold Donnelly, with its dare-to-be-different driving rhythm, but Marianne seems more in her element on Man In The Moon (the one popularised by Andy M. Stewart). The expertly clean production is by ex-Dervish man Seamie O'Dowd (who also guests on dobro, fiddles and electric guitar). And another bonus point for the booklet notes, which are detailed and welcomingly informative.
www.ceide.net
www.copperplatedistribution.com
David Kidman
This is the first release from a new Mayo-based five-piece, and comes highly recommended by Matt Molloy at sessions at whose pub in Westport he first encountered their distinctive collective approach and individual talents. Matt sure has a finely tuned ear, for this album's appealing blend of traditional tunes and contemporary songs makes for a good listen.
The opening set defines the mood and pace, with spirited front-line accordion (Tom Doherty) offset by gently rhythmic guitar (Declan Askin) and smooth bowed double-bass (Kevin Doherty), before fiddle (John McHugh) and whistle (Brian Lennon) join the front line for the repeat and the rhythms take off, though maintaining a level of restraint that's attractively managed. The band's general method of attack remains thoughtful rather than full-tilt, and their ensemble tightness conceals a considerable degree of internal fire, and there's some very expert shading in the playing that repays many further listens.
With an innate and well-considered sense of poise, Céide have a healthy attitude to repertoire too, unafraid to essay a Finnish waltz (and bring in a handbell-choir to boot!) alongside reels and jigs (those on track 5 feature Charlie Lennon's wonderfully gentle guest piano playing as a bonus). There's also a hidden track, where a wailing blues harmonica drives the whole train off on holiday! The choice of songs (just three out of the twelve tracks) is clearly tailored to suit the winning combination of softness and strength in Declan's blues-inflected vocal style - Lyle Lovett's If I Had A Boat, John Martyn's John The Baptist and the hitherto unfamiliar title track, a fine composition by local Mayo resident Tony Reidy that rather belies the image evoked by that title. I liked this album a lot, and look forward to hearing more of Céide. (Available from Copperplate Distribution.)
www.ceide.net
www.copperplatedistribution.com
David Kidman
The band name's a killer - right? Possibly the best joke I've heard in a long time in fact. Wish the music were as good, you'll be thinking... but then, it's a hell of a name to live up to... ! And actually, while it's not laughs all the way by any means, this turns out to be a more than respectable album of modern ceilidh-inspired music, which often catches fire to produce a distinctly zestful sound that's guaranteed to have you dancing in the aisles (if you have any!). It starts out deceptively sedately however, with a slow-burner of a medley (Miss Campbell Set) that has more incidental beauty than you've the right to expect from a ceilidh band. The majority of the remaining sets are uptempo-biased medleys, and the most exhilarating of the tracks that follow are undoubtedly the pell-mell Para Handy In New York set and La Brass-thing, on which the core band really rip it up and they're joined by guests John Burgess (tenor sax) and Steven Hawkes (trumpet). Oh, and by "core band" I mean Gregor Lowrey (accordion), Gavin Marwick (fiddle), Bob Turner (piano, accordion) and Al Morrow (drums), who over the past eight years of playing together have developed quite a full sound in their own right thankyou, although for this album guitarist Duncan Findlay also appears on many tracks and mandolinist Angus Wares and bass player Roy Percy are then brought on to flesh out the sound even further at times. I wasn't convinced by the staid CM treatment of My Love Is Like A Red, Red Rose (perhaps I just don't like the tune enough!), or the final selection (Waltzing Matilda?!), but the band do have a persuasive sense of control and can certainly rein in the excesses of enthusiasm when they choose. The menu is otherwise well-chosen, with plenty of decent traditional Scottish and Irish dances. OK so it's not quite "grouse à-l'Orange", but it's close and sufficiently colourful in texture!
David Kidman October 2007
Anny Celsi - Little Black Dress & Other Stories (Ragazza Music)
If the mood setting fragments from pulp noir novels that accompany each of the tracks are any indication, then LA based singer-songwriter Celis (pronounced Chelsea) could probably make a useful living penning short stories. Indeed the opening narrative 'Twas Her Hunger Brought Her Down is actually inspired by Theodore Dreiser's Sister Carrie novel.
However, should she decide to flesh out her literary talents, hopefully she won't abandon her other muse because this is a fine debut album of folk pop and songs about cheap booze, hopeful losers, femme fatales and female empowerment with a soft but slightly burred voice somewhere between Aimee Mann, Chrissie Hynde and Sheryl Crow.
She covers a fair few bases. Wicked Little Heart and All I'm Gonna Say are moody jazznik numbers, the former a slinky blues prowl that might have well served Eartha Kitt or Peggy Lee, the latter all echoey percussion, cellar bar piano, wah wah burst of bluesy guitar and a touch of Joni. Contrast those with Summer Fling with a sunny chorus bouncer that conjures memories of the Cowsills, the power pop Can't Win 'Em All and the Meredith Brooks-like So Many Bad Dreams or the 60s folk rock of Day After Tomorrow and the harmonica introed Empty Hangers ("every girl deserves a nervous breakdown").
Her influences and roots are probably also evidenced by her choice of collaborators. She closes the album with a cover, a fine folk rock along version of No Time Like Now from defunct much underrated 80s guitar rock outfit Translator whose Steve Barton provides guitar and harmonies on the album. And while Anny and Kevin Jarvis produce the bulk of the material, the album's standout title track - and surely a potential single hit and future goldmine in country rock covers - is done in a Marshall Crenshaw stylee by Marvin Etzioni, formerly of jangling guitar rock outfit Lone Justice. Dressed to impress indeed.
Mike Davies
Phil Cerny - Atlantic Passages (Hudson Records)
For the past 37 years, NY-born Phil has been living in the UK, and over the past 17 of these he's become a key member of the York folk scene by virtue of his residency status at the city's renowned Black Swan Folk Club. Now an appointment to a teaching post in his native US has entailed Phil departing these shores, leaving behind this nicely-turned, sympathetically recorded and attractively packaged CD, which, unbelievably, represents his very first recorded artefact. It contains a generous selection of tracks (18 in number) which present sensibly unadulterated solo (ie. voice accompanied by either guitar or bouzouki, except for one acapella track) renditions of material interspersing American country-blues with traditional English, Scottish and Irish ballads, often in refreshingly less-often-heard variants. The guy sure knows – and importantly, respects – his sources! Coincidentally, too, most of the material Phil's chosen to perform embodies or explores the theme of transatlantic passage, whether in the stylistic homage he pays or the origin, travel and further development of the songs themselves. Most of Phil's treatments, though quite laid-back, are strongly individual, and even the least distinguished of them prove more than a cut above workmanlike. Phil's singing and playing has a distinctive edge, quietly accomplished without needing to resort to flashy embellishment or attention-grabbing technical gimmickry. I particularly liked his laconic take on Katy Cruel (learnt, like most of us I suspect, from Cordelia's Dad), the two prison songs Go Down, Old Hannah and Long John, his spirited version of Woody Guthrie's Do-Re-Mi and his "slightly Rusbyfied" take on The Wild Goose, but in truth, each and every one of Phil's interpretations has something to commend it. Grab this memento of Phil's art while you can – in case he never gets round to making another CD! (Available from the Black Swan Folk Club in York.)
David Kidman
Kasey's dad and singing partner to Audrey Auld, Bill Chambers ventures forth with his solo release albeit supported by those ladies in his life. Coming out of that Australian community which just loves its Country music, Bill has had more than a hand in the success of a number of others.
Now, it's his turn. On Sleeping With The Blues, he makes selections of material from Fred Eaglesmith (Big Ass Garage Sale), Mary Gauthier (I Drink) and John Sebastian (Stories We Could Tell) dueting on the latter with daughter, Kasey. So, you get a flavour of what makes Bill tick. His gruff voice is reminiscent of John Prine and his songwriting has Prine's view of the tougher side of life. There are tales of drinking with Devil's Bell, lost love on Sometimes and more drinking along with plenty more substance abuse on the co-composition with Audrey Auld, The Whisky Isn't Working. The latter being a personal favourite around these parts with its country swing and 'tonight, the bottle let me down' feel.
Nobody will be holding this record up as ground breaking stuff. It's the sound of a talented guy enjoying himself along with some of his equally talented friends and relatives. So, what's wrong with that?
Steve Henderson
David Kidman
A mellow country-Americana take on Once In Royal David's City, with ringing twang guitar, heralds a pleasingly different Christmas album, Mary's first foray into the seasonal record territory. Aside from the disc's bookending carols, most of the remainder of the fare consists of original songs. Six of these have been penned by Mary herself (two co-written with John Jennings), and these are warm, convivial offerings replete with the generous spirit of the season, welcomingly unpretentious with humanitarian rather than overly religious tone. The title track references the traditional Nativity scene, sure, but the song's simple and universal message of optimism is clear. Even more affecting is the wistful, reflective message of peace Christmas Carol, and the winter-solstice-inspired song The Longest Night Of The Year, The Bells Are Ringing (which Mary wrote in 1999 after a visit to Bosnia) and Christmas Time In The City all make a positive and life-affirming impression. In addition to her own compositions, Mary covers songs by Robin & Linda Williams and the Red Clay Ramblers' Tommy Thompson, also tackling John Rutter's Candlelight Carol with some success. Arguably saving the best till last, Mary's lovely version of the negro spiritual Children, Go Where I Send Thee forms both a disc highlight and an unusual yet effective closer. With companionable musicianship from just co-producer and multi-instrumentalist John Jennings and Jon Carroll (piano), the prevailing mood of the settings is soft-focus: gentle, genial and accessible mid-tempo, and just right for relaxing by the fireside on a winter's evening.
David Kidman December 2008
Her first for the Massachusetts label reunites Carpenter with Matt Rollins, keyboardist co-producer of her critically acclaimed last album, Between Here & Gone, to pull off an equally impressive collection of songs as strong on content as they are melody.
The title track opener, oddly evocative of Dylan's The Times They Are A Changin', announces a loose theme, an exploration of vocation and the way many abuse notions of being chosen to justify their actions, but also the need to believe in a purpose that gives reason to one's life. And, as the call to engagement that Why Shouldn't We addresses, the commonality of faith that brings us together, whether we call that God, Buddah, Allah.
The attack on hypocritical self-righteousness rings loud on the jangling country rock of On With The Song, a pointed swipe at the plague of blindly patriotic jingoism ("get out of the way of the red white and blue") and xenophobia ("they call him a camel jockey instead of his name") that's infesting the USA that, as the dedication implies, was partly inspired by the reaction to the Dixie Chicks' comment about Bush, the DJ's "exhorting their listeners to spit on the sinner'.
The political sounds clear too on Houston, a gently waltzing, achingly touching portrait of the New Orleans evacuees, betrayed by a President's broken promises and lost to themselves uprooted from a home to which they can never return.
The personal and the spiritual inform the album's other songs, most linked by a sense of affirmation in the essential goodness and strength of the human spirit that brings us through. It's there on the uptempo We're All Right declaring we need no talismans or shamans to make it through, and it's there on the gently rippling hymn to nature's balm of Twilight.
It's there too in the hand outstretched Here I Am, in Your Life Story's affirmation of a life lived, be it as a flicker or a flame, and in the dust wearied On And On It Goes' reminder that it only takes a drop of rain to start a river and a helping hand to save a stranger's life.
Whether you read it as God or lover to whom she's reaching out, or whether its the spark within that becomes her rock, this is very much an album by a songwriter of a certain age, veined with reflection and a sense of putting things in order.
Leaving Song is a wonderful, hymnal number about accepting death when it comes and the three greatest gifts of 'forgiveness, hope and the great beyond', while the album closes with a note of rebirth in Bright Morning Star, the singer emerging from the dark clouds obscured turmoil of night 'by friends all but abandoned... alone but for my scars' to climb the hilltop and embrace the sun of a better tomorrow. You can't help but think it's a hymn of hope sung to a lost nation.
Mike Davies March 2007
Mary Chapin Carpenter - Between Here and Gone (Sony)
Her first new recordings in three years - and the first album to be recorded in Nashville - as the title hints this is an album of transition, partly physical but also emotional and interior, looking back and looking forward. It is arguably also the best thing she's ever done.
The sound, produced her by Matt Rollings, is fuller, but remains rooted in the country-folk that's guided all her previous work and is, if anything, even more emotionally resonant and introspective.
Two key events inform the album's stand out tracks. The closing Elysium, veined with it images of losing track and then finding the road, is a magnificent love song inspired (as is the muscular love can build a bridge country rock of River) by her recent marriage while the stunning Grand Central Station is her contribution to the songs of 9/11, inspired by an ironworker who, during an interview, said he felt the departed souls were travelling home with him.
Death and the hereafter also looms in My Heaven, a song inspired by Alice Sebold's novel, The Lovely Bones that sees the afterlife as the paradise that could never be found on earth. It should be sentimental, but instead it's just somehow simultaneously terribly sad and profoundly touching.
The ringing upbeat Beautiful Racket is perhaps the album's concession to chart seeking airplay, though the lyrics about taking time to smell the roses (or in this case the passing seasons) is still veined with regret at what we lose in the rush to get from A to B. Otherwise, the mood is reflectively melancholic. The opening What Would You Say To Me with its fiddle led melody contemplates ex lovers meeting on the street years down the line as it observes that time moves only one way before Luna (which sounds melodically very similar) finds a parent wondering why their daughter has run away from home, drawn perhaps by the lure of the open spaces but leaving behind no reasons for her departure. And yet it's somehow uplifting rather than distressed, almost acknowledging the way free spirits have to take wing as part of the plan.
That lure of the open road also veins Goodnight America, a travelogue hymn to places visited and the highways with the promised lands that lie ahead, a theme that recurs on both One Small Heart (where the narrator stops to call home and those that lost them to the open road) and the haunting piano ballad title track with its lines about wayward angels, passing souls and journeys made and yet to come. Whether freely chosen or enforced, change is necessary in order to move on, a sentiment expressed in The Shelter of the Storms in which the narrator sings of a former lover unable to let go their bitter heart, always embracing the storm rather than the sun, choosing to get away rather than face the catharsis in the pain.
Only one song doesn't fit neatly into the scheme, the simple acoustic guitar based Girls Like Me more an echo of Janis Ian's At Seventeen, a moving snapshot of those self-conceived lonely ugly ducklings whose lack of self-esteem always finds them waiting for the end of the romance with an acceptance that they will have to let go and set them free. And yet from those brief moments between they are wanted. Although her marriage might contradict things, it is, the album seems to be saying, better to travel than to arrive. In which case this is a journey well worth taking.
Mike Davies
This new double-disc set is the result of a unique and special project on which Beth's been working for several years. In a way, it's a follow-on from her 2004 collection of Latin liturgical pieces Hymns, and more directly the 2006 live DVD filmed in St. Paul's Cathedral. But, so much more than that, it represents an extraordinary spiritual journey for this contemporary singer/songwriter, and presents an extremely wide-ranging collection of songs celebrating the "spectrum and spiritual diversity of the human family". As well as a Negro spiritual and Shaker hymn, there are several pieces which are sung in other languages than English - there's the traditional Hebrew Shalom Aleichem, the Cuban Orisha Yemaya, a Zulu hymn, a Tibetan mantra and chants in Navajo, Sanskrit and Latin.
There are also several songs written by Beth herself. Befitting its wide cultural ambit, then, the album utilises many different musical forms and genres, and thus ends up being a bit of a curio - but although the first disc starts quite unpromisingly, the pluses soon begin to way outnumber the minuses. Joyful, upbeat moments like That Mystery are particularly attractive, and the experimental all-things hip-hop/rap of My Religion is laudable enough, but I find one or two other tracks on the first disc (like the string-and-choir-soaked Prayers Of An Atheist and Thank You My Lord) quickly become too saccharine to be listenable. Beth's own spirituality seems best conveyed in the simpler moments, the acappella The Flame and the beautifully expressed faith of the hymn For The Beauty Of The Earth for instance. I also liked the quality of "amazing grace" Beth brings to her own anthem Shine All Your Light, and the gentle This Life That's Lent To You, a gorgeous piece of Carter-Family-style country-gospel.
Disc 2 is the more musically adventurous, on which Beth collaborates with Maartin Allcock on an arrangement of the ancient Gaelic hymn Durrow (sung in Welsh). Indeed, Beth's prowess in foreign-language singing is considerable (it even extends to a very credible guttural Farsi), as is her evident attention to detail - she treats her indigenous sources with respect and achieves sincere homage as opposed to clumsy pastiche. And she achieves a universality of purpose by using her own singing voice in each piece, to represent in effect the consistency of humanity itself. The recording quality is both stunning and consistent: all the more amazing when you consider that tracks were recorded in a diverse array of locations. The end-product transcends mere cultural tourism, and is worthy but not in any way pretentious; optimistic, and yes, inspiring for the most part, Beth bravely baring her soul and spirituality with music that really heals. Whether or not you personally subscribe to any specific religious beliefs, you can't ignore the serious impact that her spiritual quest has made on Beth, and the journey she's undergone has certainly produced some very beautiful music.
www.bethnielsenchapman.com
www.myspace.com/bethnielsenchapman
David Kidman May 2008
Beth Nielsen Chapman - Look (Sanctuary)
What with the death of her husband and her own struggle with breast cancer, the past few years have been something of a rough ride for Chapman. All of which adds extra poignancy to and shapes her songs of love, loss and life's resilience.
The follow up to the critically acclaimed Deeper Still, it embraces the spectrum of her musical influences from soul (Right Back In To The Feeling's duet with Michael McDonald), jazz (the percussive Free) and country (a yearning love remembered Time Won't Tell co-written with Harlan Howard) to rock (Will and Liz wouldn't be out of place on an Alanis album) and even Tin Pan Alley (the lushly arranged Look where those Hoagy Carmichael influences shine).
Easily her most accomplished work to date, there are also deeply felt moments here that register among the most profoundly moving songs she's ever recorded. Who We Are, a song about bitter words spoken in anger, the simple hymnal Your Love Stays (guessingly written in her husband's memory) and, sounding a close cousin of Heart Like A Wheel, the piano backed Touch My Heart (another requiem for those who have passed on) will quite simply shred you apart. "There are songs I love that catch my breath", she sings. She knows how to write them too.
Mike Davies
Beth Nielsen Chapman - Deeper Still (Sanctuary)
Living up to its name in providing a refuge for artists who no longer feel they fit within the anonymous corporate labels of the music biz, the latest addition to the Sanctuary roster is without doubt one of the finest singer-songriters in the world of Americana roots. Responsible for providing major hits for Trish Yearwood, Faith Hill, and Willie Nelson as well as being covered by Emmylou Harris, Mary Chapin Carpenter and Bonnie Raitt, her song Sand and Water was also a staple of Elton John's 1997 tour, dedicated to the memory of Princess Diana.
Following on from a Warners Best Of package, this is her first studio album since Sand and Water itself, released five years ago following the death of her husband. It should have appeared last year, but, as she was doing the finishing touches in August 2000, she was diagnosed with breast cancer. All of which gives its songs of life's resilience an even greater resonance.
World of Hurt opens with a personal and global timeliness, a r&b veined clapper about love's saving grace that features John Hiatt on background vocals and Chapman slapping telephone books to provide the backbeat. It sets the mood, both in terms of the gentle undulating acoustic moods and a tone that hovers between celebratory and regret. Perhaps inevitably there's a theme about placing trust in forces you can't know or understand; the lilting countrified Angels By My Side, the wistful piano and dulcimer ballad Every December Sky with John Prine on harmonies and an air of breath hanging on crisp winter air, the simple hymnal mood of There's A Light, the plaintive piano and strings duet with Emmylou.
It's an album about falling down, getting back up and letting go and embracing life - embodied in such numbers as Shake My Soul (with Raitt), the rippling All Comes Down To Love) - and about finding strength within as on the achingly hymnal title track with its haunting Irish penny whistle and (very modest) Vince Gill background vocals.
There's plangent emotion here, one of the most striking tracks being Sleep, the intro featuring toning notes sampled at 4.30am in the Taj Mahal, a tumbling celebration of the beautiful sadness of the heartrushing sorrow and unspeakable loveliness that makes us human and part of the planet. The only quibble is the inclusion of I Will Know Your Love, a bonus track recorded in 1999 for her old label, its slow rocking shuffled beats sounding slightly out of synch with the acoustic colours that dominate elsewhere. But it's a small niggle on an exceptional, deeply affecting, album.
Mike Davies
Michael's latest studio recording could be considered both unmistakable Chapman and atypical Chapman, for it actually exhibits both traits at once: first there's simply the way the man plays guitar, together with that distinctive drawling vocal style, but this time those elements are overlaid with a modest panoply of production effects that add a genuinely invigorating extra dimension to the familiar Chapman sound-world.
Repertoire-wise, on Sweet Powder Michael presents a mixture of (a little) new material, (several) freshly "reimagined" versions of classic self-penned material and (a small handful of) covers of some of his own personal favourite songs. Initial reaction, I'll admit, was wondering whether I'd got the right disc in the player, for the remake of Window's In The Valley, which opens proceedings, sounds so radically different, almost perverse in its shocking, overriding, insistent electronic pulse, out of which drifts the familiar riff, ground out on growling treated electric guitar, with white-noise-type interference backing; from this audio cacophony emanates Michael's disembodied voice intoning (rather than singing) the lyrics. Decidedly weird, especially for lovers of the original recording. There follows a masterly cover of Tim Hardin's Hang On To A Dream, a song which Michael played live frequently during the late 60s, now driven forward by an equally insistent pulse; this, with a peculiar logic, is followed by a close-miked smoky bar-room rendition of the jazz standard I Thought About You.
There's a chilling post-nuclear reggae-dub feel to The Latest News, a protest song where Michael's languid vocal delivery belies both the urgency of the sentiments expressed and the edgy, unsettling production touches. The Prospector takes a more menacing, downbeat - and I feel more accurate - view of the song which first appeared on 1979's Life On The Ceiling. Insistent contemporary beats also provide a fulcrum for the reimagined Ramone And Durango, here retitled A Spanish Incident, before Waiting For A Train returns us to the milieu of the quintessential Chapman acoustic-based cover (the Jimmie Rodgers classic was first recorded by Michael during the sessions for Window). Also much in the trusty acoustic vein is a satisfying and beautifully played revisit of Rockport Sunday (the Tom Rush instrumental Michael first recorded on Play Guitar The Easy Way). There's an altogether heavier, almost Cooderesque gait to How Can A Poor Man..., the one track here which doesn't quite get round to get going. Live favourite Hi Heel Sneakers, however, is a triumph, for it gets what's best described as a R.L. Burnside makeover... with some seriously gritty electric guitar work that extends from the brooding solo passages right out into the sprawling coda - magnificent! As in its different way is Sweet Powder's final track, a rather lovely version of Which Will, the Nick Drake song that Michael played at the Les Cousins Nick Drake Memorial Concert back in 2004.
Throughout this album, the distinctive texturings and the significantly contemporary sound of the production come courtesy of Alex Warnes of Phoenix Studios, who also plays keys and percussion on the set; the only other additional musicians appearing are Ruth Pickles (cello) and Mike Wilkinson (violin), on a splendidly atmospheric new version of Fully Qualified Survivor standout Rabbit Hills. So, as I said at the start, this latest release is a superlative offering that brings a highly plausible new angle to the familiar Chapman vision.
David Kidman October 2008
David Kidman
It's a well kept secret that Michael's still alive and well and making great music. His latest studio album of songs (The Twisted Road) came out quietly a couple of years ago, swiftly followed by a very fine completely solo, all-instrumental venture, Americana, which was inspired by his then-recent tour of the Southern States. I described Americana as a potent invocation of genius loci, and the same holds true for its slightly lengthier sequel. That sense of time-stands-still (or rather, inhabiting a different time-scale) is acutely strong throughout, whether on the delicate opener La Madrugada (with its distinct echoes of Miles Davis in his Spanish-sketches period) or the leisurely stretching-out of Blues For The Mother Road, or even on invigorating little vignettes like the 2½-minute Silverking (another of those perfect little encapsulations of the spirit of improvised bluesy ragtime that Michael does so well), the cheeky Dust Devils and the joyous Mingus-prayer-meeting feel of Looking For Charlie In Nogales, not to mention the timeless old-timey country-waltz of When Dottie Goes Dancing. White House (subtitled "at peace in the Canyon de Cheliy") is a luxuriant 6-minute bathe in acoustic guitar textures, and Ghosts In The Sycamores strongly recalls the melancholy of the descending chord-sequence of No Song To Sing. The 7-minute Navajo-inspired Thunderbird Lodge finds typical Chapman ramblings elevated to high art. Michael even makes his début playing banjo on the strangely hypnotic Apache Creek, which makes inventive use of "found sounds" (rhythmic water splashes) within a musical structure wherein I detect more than a nod to Hank Marvin! In a slight departure from the earlier Americana, Michael here has the benefit of the instrumental expertise of steel guitarist Jeff Betsworth, while long-time collaborator Rick Kemp plays fretless bass on the spacious, elliptical final track (So Many Echoes). The production is excellent, and the presentation most attractive - this time the package is enhanced by a fulsome portfolio of evocative photographs. Michael has produced another impressive album here to rank among his best.
David Kidman
Chasing Dorotea - Chasing Dorotea (Stereo Test Kit)
www.labrador.se/artists/chasingdorotea.php3
Mike Davies
Don't be afraid to change your ways", sings Dave Wilson on Sweet Eviction's tale of too little money and too much booze, and it seems the North Carolina boys have taken the message to heart. As the likes of The Carolinian, perky instrumental Clear Blue Sky, and the Dillards-like Thanks demonstrate, their fourth album remains rooted in the acoustic bluegrass they've always played with the fiddles, mandolins and so forth. And it's not just the title that finds She conjuring thoughts of Gram Parsons.
But it also stretches out to add different tones and textures. Let It Rock pretty much does just that with a Stonesy swagger, Birmingham Jail's story of 60s school desegregation burrows into darkness with a scraping violin and John Teer's torn throat harmonies while I Got Worry kicks up a rowdy bluesy groove and, sporting pedal steel from Greg Readling, Chip Of A Star is pure cosmic country pop. I'd swear there was even a hint of calypso to Country Boy/City Boy.
Not as immediate as their previous Route 23 and I do miss that album's 50s Everly touches and Louvin influences, but it's good to seem them both keeping traditions alive and injecting them with new life.
Mike Davies March 2008
A North Carolina quartet with a love of old school bluegrass and a shared fondness for The Band, two of the boys, guitarist Dave Wilson and bassist cum pedal steel ace Greg Readling, were part of Tift Merritt's backing outfit The Carbines when former dBs legend abnd Whiskeytown producer Chris Stamey saw them at an album launch and offered to record them and get them a deal with Yep Roc.
That was an album ago and the relationship still holds good for the follow-up, laying down tracks in Mitch Easter's studio with Caitlin Cary dropping by to add backing vocals on a couple of tracks.
If I tell you that influences apparent would be Bill Monroe, Doc Watson, the Dillards, Burritos and The Louvins then you'd have a fair idea of what to expect; plenty of fiddle, banjo and songs about drink, death, women, love, religion and, with the title track, a tale of economic depression inspired by his father whose own hardware store that was forced to close when a re-routed highway took away all the passing trade.
There's a couple of banjo-fiddle instrumental tunes, scorching along on Sun Up, and a clutch of ballads (the stand outs being leaving song Louisiana Freight Train and Parlour Light) but it's the more uptempo close harmony songs that dominate, Take Heed and Arms of the Law both showing striking Everly Brothers influences. Those 50s influences are evident too in the album's sole cover, a banjoed up version of the old Chordettes hit (and subsequent Dave Edmunds rework), Born To Be With You.
Nothing startling then, but it's an album that slips down very nicely on a sunny day with a mint julep by your side.
Mike Davies
I suppose your enjoyment of Swedish country band The Cheatin' Hearts eponymous album will be in direct proportion to your expectations.
If you're looking for trail blazing, social conscience and fire and brimstone, you'll be mightily disappointed. However if you want to kick off your shoes, loosen your tie and join Marina Uppgren, Sophia Johansson, Peter Andersson, Johan Ek, Patrik Malmros and Jonas Bylund for some relaxing, unapologetic traditional country and western then you're in the right place. On this evidence it is doubtful that as a band Cheatin' Hearts will ever cause the kind of waves made by some of today's country young guns, but neither will it disappoint with an album, made up of two Uppgren and one Andersson originals plus some well chosen covers.
The band has certainly been astute in its selection of songs because, instead of reinforcing their traditionalist credentials with obvious song choices, they have used a little imagination and looked further afield and it gives the project a spark of freshness and vitality that is sometimes lacking in a band relying on someone else's work.
Perhaps the best examples come with Jay D Miller's 'answer' to Wild Side of Life, It Wasn't God Who Made Honky Tonk Angels, recorded by among others, Kitty Wells, Patsy Cline and Wanda Jackson and Johnny Cash's Still Miss Someone, not the easiest selections but neither song suffers by comparison and more importantly it shows a band unwilling to settle for the easy life. The thrust of Cheatin' Hearts comes from the vocals of Uppgren and the pedal steel guitar of Peter Andersson, together they combine to make a strong statement, it's been heard before but it still has to be done well.
Clearly the future for the band lies with its own songs and here too the apple hasn't fallen too far from the country tree, Queen Of Denial and Show Me are full of TammyWynette heartache but with the cracking and crackling vocals of Marina Uppgren (who also wrote both) to carry them along they work very well, while Peter Andersson's instrumental Steelwalk is a pleasant enough shuffle.
If Cheatin' Hearts is to progress, as this album suggests it should, then it will need to devote its energies to original material. This is an accomplished country band, well capable of interpreting someone else's music but then again so are a host of others, it needs to make the most of what makes it different.
Michael Mee, February 2006
On his latest collection, Bob presents an unashamedly romantic sequence of songs inspired by his enigmatic muse Fiona (the exact nature of his relationship with whom remains tantalisingly obscure, but who he clearly identifies in his liner note as English artist Fiona Long, who'd sketched Bob at a concert in Southampton back in 2006). Fiona would appear to have been the catalyst for last year's inspirational burst of songwriting activity. And yet somehow the album brilliantly manages to sidestep what might so easily have become an exercise in gooey sentimentality. The idealistic nature of the symbiotic relationship around which the eleven songs revolve seems to be most conventionally chronicled in New Forest Girl, an old-fashioned lovesong with Celtic musical overtones, while the heady, headlong attraction of such a romance tumbles through the identical lyric in its New Forest Hoedown guise. This concluding track, with its stagey applause tacked on, leaves an uneasily contrived final impression that goes against the grain and honesty and integrity of the remainder of the album, which contains some appealingly mellow music and plenty of top-drawer songwriting, a bit of an object lesson in careful craftsmanship. All bar two of the songs are Bob's own – those two being penned by old friend David MacNeill, the disc's engineer, who also collaborated with Bob on the actual music for the songs. There's an enchanting pair of songs at the disc's heart which are set in Paris, and the title track is both memorable and beguiling, while the disc also includes occasional moments that puzzle as much as delight, like the unusual Pictures Of Strangers which even incorporates a spoken call-and-response between Fiona herself and Bob. Instrumental embellishment here is provided by the weaving violin of Fats Kaplan, and other musicians helping Bob to realise his romantic vision include Chris Conway, Dan Britton and Charlie White. Overall, it's an ultimately satisfying collection.
David Kidman July 2008
Bob's pedigree in the nowadays highly competitive field of Americana has been further enhanced by his last two CDs having charted more than respectably in that genre. His Memphis upbringing has both informed and influenced his own songwriting and music-making, and with each new release I'm more convinced than ever of Bob's place among the pantheon of top country/roots artistes writing today. Without wishing to make it sound in any way predictable or mundane, I'd describe Bob's latest collection of songs as a kind of "more of the same" counterpart to his very first CD, Gettysburg To Graceland, which featured characters living along the Mississippi Delta. This new one is, according to Bob, "a musical road paved with tales about people, places and things from Texas to Tennessee", and, as he says rather enigmatically, "I don't know if these stories are true, but they happened to me" (think about it!...).
This really is a compelling collection, beautifully performed and recorded, running the gamut from sensitive and affectionate (Under The Bayou Moon), touching homage (Me And Dan And The Spoonman) and funky down-home good-time (Memphis Till Monday) through to some typically acerbic Cheevers tongue-in-cheek observation (Downhome Backwoods Hillbilly Fool); and hey, dare I say it, every single track's a winner (and I mean it!)... Bob's cohorts on this set include Charlie White, Byron House, Spooner Oldham, Joe Bidewell, Fats Kaplin, Dan Dugmore, Mark Prentice and John Gardner, with Joy Lynn White and Carolyn Aitken on duet vocals. This album's so good it's hard to think of anything else to say except that if you're not yet one of the converted and haven't quite latched onto Bob's unique, forthrightly honest and deeply thoughtful writing then Texas To Tennessee is probably the album to do it. So go visit Bob's website pronto - or even better, check out his tour dates (there's loads of them, with a good geographical spread, for he's in the UK right through till late August) and go experience an evening you won't forget in a hurry!
David Kidman, July 2006
Bob Cheevers - One Man One Martin (Inbred Records)
Geraint Evans
Well, I get more impressed with Bob with every new CD of his that I get to hear, and We Are All Naked is probably my favourite so far. Recorded back in 2001, its gestation was fairly long and personal. As Bob candidly explains in his insert note, We Are All Naked is a kind of multi-layered thematic concept CD, the theme revealed in the title over the course of the project. This most personal of Bob's recording projects has been the first which he'd begun "sort of standing naked with just the songs" before (only in the final stages) involving other Nashville players (these include Charlie White, Al Perkins, Louis Shelton and Bruce Michael Miller - hey, Bob sure knows how to pick 'em!) During the album's gestation, Bob's real life caught up with him, to the extent that no less than eleven of the album's fourteen songs concern his love affair with a "sweet Kentucky woman" and how her effect on him resulted in his "writing straight from the heart rather than putting a bunch of characters in between" him and his feelings. Raw, naked truth and honesty are the stuff of the album's theme, indeed. This really is an excellent piece of work; though each and every song is still recognisably of Bob's distinctive and individual authorship, he seems this time round to have found an extra dimension to his writing which proves itself even more compelling and attractive then usual over a wide musical spectrum, from the opening "road song" Once In A Lifetime Ride to the fresh take on Memories I'll Keep to the sleazy electric barrelhouse stomp of All I Want From Memphis to the glistening, yearning, pensive closer That Evening And Forever. Moving on to People, Places And Things, well this offering is more standard Cheevers fare, in the sense that if I'd heard it before We Are All Naked I'd not have been in the least surprised. It's a typically mixed bag, in the sense that it pits expertly crafted character songs (Me And Dan And The Spoonman) and location epics (The Legend Of Sleepy Hollow), alongside examples of Bob's slightly twisted philosophy (I Need To Slow Down) and the occasional sillier piece displaying Bob's deliciously warped sense of humour (notably the tricksy hidden track that's sheepishly tucked away there a couple of minutes after the end of The Promise And The Promised Land). Another fine set all told, but on the evidence of these two new CDs Bob's in danger of getting almost too prolific for his own good, and even with all those frequent visits to the UK it's sure getting hard to keep up with his outpourings!
David Kidman
This new offering from the Ladies was recorded last year in Glasgow during their regular stay for the annual Celtic Connections Festival; since the festival always presents an ideal networking opportunity, it was only natural that the band would invite to the sessions some of the friends they encountered there – in this instance over a dozen of them! Indeed, the sessions produced some rather special music-making, and the additional frisson of the environment proved the catalyst for a kind of welcome revitalisation of the Ladies' profile (their last two CDs having been to my mind just a bit underwhelming). The sense of fun and enjoyment in each other's company is something the Ladies are noted for in live performance, and this element has only intermittently been captured on CD, but I do feel it comes across more on this new offering, particularly noticeable I thought on the instrumental selections (six out of the album's eleven tracks), the most storming of which is the medley that includes the title number (and features the excellent playing of Sharon Shannon, John Joe Kelly, Liz Kane and Laoise Kelly among others). Even so, that's not to say that the song performances are below-par in any way - it's more that their intrinsically soft-edged treatments don't necessarily lend themselves to extra fire. The partial drawback is that the Ladies' choice of song material is fairly well-worn, though on this occasion it proves astute, in making the best of the Ladies' individual characteristics while allowing the guests' contributions to bloom too. For instance, Karen Matheson and Eddi Reader join Heidi Talbot in a glorious trio rendition of Fair And Tender Ladies, and Kate Rusby adds her dulcet tones to Heidi's on Bogie's Bonnie Belle, while the Ladies' version of Betsy Bell And Mary Gray has plenty of spirit. Phil Cunningham's production is cherishable too, as it enables the whole expanded ensemble to bask in an attractive creative glow.
David Kidman
Known to his mates in Bolton as Simon Aldred, taking his nom de musique from a line in a Wilco song, and inspired by the likes of both them, Sparklehorse, Smog and Johnny Cash, this is all about country infused acoustic melancholy delivered with a nicotine stained rough edged voice. Shimmering debut single Mathematics conjured thoughts of fellow Northerner Richard Hawley while follow up People Help The People offered another strings soaked dose of romantic aching and yearning choruses.
Now you get the full works, and a tasty fruit it is too, opening with the title track's night wind blown country blues title track as he sings 'I see demons dance across factory floors,' while a haunted piano tinkles away in the corner of the lost saloon. His taste for Americana's evident too in the shuffling train chugging rhythms and chorus catch of 4AM's hymn to devotion and heartbreak, spare Neil Young like piano ballad Roses with its images of 'god's assassins' and the bluesy lope of Mountain Girl.
But that's not the only flavour here. Alfred The Great is out and out gunslinging rock n roll with crashing chords and driving drum beats, reminiscent of early Costello crossed with Bob Seger, Here Come The Romans a rollicking chorus line sax blowing swayer that sounds like Randy Newman demoing for a Southside Johnny dance party movie while by complete contrast Mary On The Mend is an eight minute, orchestrated Hawley-like rusted romance kitchen sink tale of a triple divorcee on a Northern estate.
If there's criticism to be made, it's that the production's a bit harsh, tending to blunt his Northern poetry and pushing his aching voice to compete against the instrumentation, but otherwise this is a very impressive debut and a solid foundation for the future. Drink deep.
Mike Davies July 2007
That really is the surname of husband and wife team Jere and Sandy who, along with four of their kids, came together as a band in the wake of tragedy when, looking to raise spirits after the death of the eldest daughter, they visited a bluegrass festival and saw Jim & Jesse and the Virginia Boys. They were hooked. Nine years down the line, they've played extensively, been signed to Ricky Skaggs' label, won Entertainer of the Year at the Annual International Bluegrass Music Association awards and picked up a Grammy nomination for both of their previous two albums.
Featuring twin fiddles, banjo, clawhammer, mandolin, Jere's impressive beard, there's no reason to think a third won't be in order for this accomplished set of picking and singing. Despite an image that says bikers more than back porch, they're as traditional lyrically as they are musically. Largely penned by daughter Cia, songs here are based around relationships (I Can Only Love You So Much), unrequited love (My Love For You Grows), religion (the trad folk gospel The King As A Babe Comes Down), death (Broken), devil women (a cover of Gram's Devil In Disguise) and, on This Is My Son, a mother's riposte to those who don't appreciate the sacrifices of those who go off to fight for freedom. With BJ contributing two sizzling instrumentals (Sumatra, Mansker Spree/O'Coughlin's Reel), to add extra heat to the fire, whatever the title may say, you'll find yourself pledging the faith.
Mike Davies September 2008
Family bands, and even dynasties, are not exactly unheard of in bluegrass and country music. Few, if any, will have a story as powerful as that of the Cherryholmes family.
Firstly, bluegrass is not synonymous with the tough part of LA that the family lived in but after the death of the eldest daughter in 1999, the Cherryholmes attended a local bluegrass festival and, in need of something to lift the spirits and pull the family together at a tragic time, the idea of a band took hold.
Although the Cherryholmes had no professional musical background, dad Jere and mum Sandy Lee were experienced musicians and the four children Cia Leigh, BJ, Skip and Molly Kate proved to be naturally gifted. In fact Molly Kate began playing fiddle aged 6 and made her debut at the Grand Ol' Opry a year later.
Although the leap from amateur to professional is a wide one, the band made it effortlessly but even they must have been surprised when at an IBMA convention, instead of taking the more usual 'Emerging Artists Award' the Cherryholmes went straight to the top, scooping 'Entertainer of the Year'.
The bluegrass of Black and White is so steeped in history and tradition that it would take someone equally soaked in it, to comment accurately on the techniques of the various members. Safe to say that collectively they create music that makes the spirits soar, it's the kind of music that burrows its way into your soul.
Perhaps because it is a family band and because there are no outside influences (TV and internet) allowed, there is a clarity and purity to the music, no doubt reinforced by the fact that the Cherryholmes not only play as a family, they listen as a family (no headphones). However, the sense of common purpose goes beyond that, musically they are tight outfit, family or not, there's not the width of a sheet of paper between them all as musicians.
Although good bluegrass has an inherent energy and sense of life, the Cherryholmes take it even further, You Don't Know What Love Is, is darker than its homespun exterior might at first suggest. By whatever criteria you judge it, this is serious music played by equally serious musicians, Black and White prods and pokes the conscience and the imagination in equal measure.
To carry that off successfully, you have to be extremely talented players and even to the laymen the Cherryholmes's blend of fiddles banjos and guitars is at times exquisite.
With all members of the band taking lead vocals, in effect you get five bands for the price of one, from the rough-edged Jere to the youthful Molly Kate. But in truth it matters little whose turn it is in the spotlight because Black and White is a true family album built on the strength and talent of all its members.
Sometimes music becomes more than just something nice to listen to, sometimes it can touch your heart, this is one of those occasions.
www.myspace.com/cherryholmesband
Michael Mee July 2008
Such is the perversity of modern music that Kenny Chesney is in grave danger of becoming a victim of his own success.
If you're a 'serious' musician, releasing albums that sell by the bucketload and filling football-size stadia is almost a reason to retreat to a darkened room. The charge laid at the door of artists like Kenny Chesney is that somehow commercial equals betrayal and they've lost their sense of roots. It's true that success has enabled Kenny Chesney to work with the best musicians and producers, it's also undeniable that Just Who I Am: Poets And Pirates is a slick and professional piece of work. Kenny Chesney is no longer the rough and ready saloon bar singer, but why should it count against you when you do something as well as this?
Whether you're a superstar of country or on the first rung of the ladder, it all comes down to the songs and how they are sung and on those two counts Kenny Chesney is as true to his roots as he's ever been. This is a great country album, straight from the heart of the man; whichever direction you approach it from, it works. Chesney may also open himself up to unfair criticism because his music sits neatly in the no man's land between pure country and country rock. His songs are also about the kinds of things the chattering classes deride, love and family. Mind you he doesn't help himself by adding a large dollop of sugar wherever he can.
But you have to accept Kenny Chesney and his music for what they are Just As I Am: Poets and Pirates is an honest album. It doesn't hide behind any philosophy or promise to be a life-changing experience but it does provide songs that an ordinary man can relate to.
However, it's not just the melodies on Just Who I Am: Poets And Pirates that strike a chord, once you've decided to enter the world created on the likes of Don't Blink you quickly discover that it's not such a bad place after all and there's nothing wrong with a bit of escapism, reality's harsh enough. Throughout the album's nine tracks Chesney sells a slightly unreal view of the world but he does it with a great deal of style. Just Who I Am; Poets And Pirates is unashamedly country/country rock and it doesn't stray too far from that formula. You'll love it or hate it, whichever it is you'll have to acknowledge that Kenny Chesney is very good at it.
Michael Mee October 2007
Away from the stage and the studio, country star Kenny Chesney will undoubtedly have had better years than 2005. However he can take some comfort in the fact that as a singer he appears to be in the form of his life.
Chesney is firmly in the country superstar bracket - the current CMA and ACM Entertainer of the Year - but with The Road And The Radio you don't have to peel the superstar skin too far back to reveal the boy from Luttrell, Mississippi.
In fact the album's best monents come with the title track and the closaing song Like Me. Like Glen Campbell before him, Chesney exposes a vulnerability that many musicians lose on the way up, what you're hearing is the core of the man not just his music.
But the expectations of him are far greater now and The Road And The Radio has to deliver to an international audience. Summertime for one is a country rock juggernaut brushing aside everything in its path.
This is also a beautifully (and expensively) crafted album, only the finest materials - musicians and production expertise - have been used in its making and it shows, this is almost flawless without ever becoming 'packaged'.
But at the heart of it all is the singer/songwriter Kenny Chesney and, although he didn't write all of the songs, he takes complete ownership of the poignant Who'd You Be Today and, again like Campbell, you instinctively warm to Kenny Chesney the man as much as you do to his undoubted talent. He may well be an 'A list' star but The Road And The Radio says much about the man underneath the stetson.
Michael Mee, January 2006
He's flirted with garnering big audiences whilst gathering a cult following on the back of praise from such quarters as that other Athens favourite, Michael Stipe. Maybe, that's about to change for Vic Chesnutt.
Past records have often been quite sparse affairs with Vic's whining voice providing a 'love him or loathe him' factor for the listening public. With the likes of Van Dyke Parks on board for this record, his opening strings for 'Virginia' tell you that this is no ordinary record. Suddenly, the vocals become part of a bigger picture and the song rides forward as, in this case, a beautiful love song unfolds. Next up is 'Little Caesar' - a pop at George W if I read it right. Here, Bill Frisell lends his guitar distortions to create the sort of drama that one might expect to sit behind a spiteful lyric. Vic's lyrics have always been a joy and no sooner have we left spite behind than 'What Do You Mean?' comes up with the delightful line 'like a puppy on a trampoline'. What a wonderful image this conjures up. A Chesnutt strong point that has passed by the 'loathe him' listeners but, perhaps, this time, will hit the sweet spot. For my ears, the sweet spot of the whole record is the marvellous 'Forthright'. Seven minutes of shimmering perfection as he pleads to be told the truth of some deep, dark secret. His vocals skip across the deftly played music whilst more excellent guitar dives in the other direction. Wonderful. In similar musical vein, 'Vesuvius' provides a slick backdrop to a whole catalogue of lyrical imagery. After all this beautiful imagery, who else would wind up the record with a song called 'Gnats'?
He may not be anywhere near an easily marketable package ready for slick presentation. Nevertheless, this might just be the record to push his boat out into the mainstream.
Steve Henderson
The Churchfitters - New Tunes For Old (Churchfitters Records)
Pete Fyfe
Toronto-born Annabelle, for three years a member of those wonderful Wailin' Jennys, has for the past couple of years resumed her solo career, the first direct fruit of which is Resilience. The new record continues the trend started on her previous solo outings, the EP Burned My Ass and the full-length Water, in showing her to be an impressive, if mildly idiosyncratic, songwriter and performer in her own right: a brilliantly agile vocalist and multi-skilled musician (fearsomely talented on violin, mandolin and guitar). The aptly-named Resilience portrays a tough, independent talent, capable of reflecting poignantly, often through the metaphor of relationships, on how humankind survives and deals with its own foibles. This can result in some determinedly crazy music (like the quirky junk-country of I Left My Brain), but for the most part Annabelle overlays basic acoustic textures with more subtle ornamentation, displaying influences from her earlier musical activities (including electro-acoustic composition and, even old-time). Guest musicians are brought in to supplement her own individual musical vision at key points: these include Bruce Molsky (fiddlin' on the train-ride waltzer of The Sioux), Bruce Cockburn (duet vocal and joint composition credit on Driving Away) and Mary Gauthier. Perhaps the album gets progressively weirder as it goes on its merry way, but this just makes you want to go back to listen more closely to the opening cuts (especially the deceptively indie-pop feel of the title track). Anabelle's singing has real character too, with a striking way of moulding phrases round the lyrics that's not always what you'd expect from a reading of the words. All in all, with its warm and enveloping sound and intriguing variety of diverse ambiences, this fascinating album really does live up to Annabelle's own description of "a big complicated hug".
David Kidman September 2008
Cicero Buck - Humbucky (Super Tiny Records)
Not officially out until November but available on pre-release from their website, I have to say that neither the punning title nor the sleeve artwork are exactly prepossessing. The music, however, is another matter entirely. The follow up to 2002's Delicate Shades of Grey, there's less of the alt-country stylings this time round and a stronger leaning on the jazz-blues-folk colours of the debut while their melodic sensibilities and awareness of what makes a perfectly crafted grown up pop song are, if anything, stronger than ever.
For latecomers, the duo comprises American singer-songwriter Kris Wilkinson and English bassist/writer Joe Hughes, once half of underrated 80s classy ballad pop outfit The Lover Speaks, while this time round they've roped in a few friends (unknown to the casual listener but minor industry legends) to sprinkle some extra magic in the shape of former Muscle Shoals trumpeter Jack Peck, pianist Billy Livsey (that's him you hear on Tina Turner's What's Love Got To Do With It) and, just to confuse things, Kris Wilkinson (as in the Nashville one who scored All The Pretty Horses) looking after the strings. They also get to co-write one song, the haunting blinded by the light ballad Bound To Fall, with Pierce Pettis.
Right, that's the bio and credits taken care of. Now for the music. Treating on love found, lost, desired, good, bad and plain ornery, the songs are gentle, occasionally world weary blues streaked creatures, peering through a gauze of light bruises and sun dappled lace. Eyelashes (rhymed with Molasses) bounces along with a trumpet splashed verve in a manner reminiscent of the old Harper's Bizarre while the jugbandish jog of Little Songbird trills in similar upbeat vein and, despite its darker lyrical neuroses, Black Roads is paved with a lolloping lazy New Orleansy rhythm. Funhouse is one of those mid-afternoon sun baking straw fields blues numbers that has you feeling parched as you listen, Gonna Fly a guitar rocking swaggery chug. Wilkinson's in cracking form throughout, her vocals and delivery on the musically up, emotionally down Ascension calling to mind Laura Nyro while the creek lazing If I Can't Sing suggests a twangier, Southern raised Carole King. For me though the best moments come with the sparer, more reflective ballads; a self-accusatory bluesy What I Couldn't Say, the leafily folk comedown Lie On The Horizon and, the album's two gold-plated standouts, the aching Catching You In Between and their sparse, stripped back piercingly touching revival of Hughes's classic old hit No More I Love You's on which Wilkinson's voice stands shoulder to shoulder with Christine Collister. And frankly, recommendations don't come much higher than that. Humdinger.
Mike Davies
Cicero Buck - Delicate Shades of Grey (SuperTiny Records)
Blending alt-country and acoustic rock, Cicero Buck (I have no idea where the name comes from) is made up of now UK based American singer-songwriter Kris Wilkinson and English bassist/writer Joe Hughes who some may remember as formerly 50% of The Lover Speaks who were responsible for No More 'I Love You's'.
This is their debut album (released in the UK in August with an accompanying tour but available from the website now) and serves to spotlight Wilkinson's evocative vocals, their hint of folksy-jazz colouring (complemented by the arrangements) throwing up comparisons to Eddie Reader and early Tracey Thorn (but with a yearning Americana catch that also suggests kd lang) while the title track even hints at vintage Jerry Jeff Walker. It's full of understated classic melodic American song craft, from the dreamily swirling Lullabye that opens the album through the strummed Handsome Family sparseness of melancholic failed love song Fencepost, a breezy twangy guitar Skyline and the brushed ache of Beautiful Daydreamer to the acoustic blues stripped back portrait of emotional despair and haunted madness that is Trudy. You get three bonus cuts too, stylistically askew from the others and gueesingly rawer recordings, among them the punkily-pop Secret Crush that sounds oddly like a demo for The Bangles and electronica dance oddity Happy Ever After co-written with DJ Liquid Todd.
Mike Davies
Kansas-born and -raised Kathy has for the past fifteen years or so been accumulating praise for her superb singing, which has hitherto been more prominently displayed on her session work than on her solo album releases, of which there have only been three to date. With album number four (Somehow), however, Kathy marks a new departure in that it consists entirely of her own original songs (13 in number). She's fortunate in being able to call upon a cast of musicians drawn from her many illustrious contacts in the bluegrass and country worlds, including Rob Ickes, Edgar Meyer, Darrell Scott, Stuart Duncan, Victor Wooten, Jeff Coffin, Byron House and Kenny Malone – and of course they do her proud. Although the principal idiom of the album is country with a tinge of contemporary bluegrass, in its later stages it loses its musical unity somewhat when Kathy then branches out somewhat wilfully into a diverse array of musical idioms: soul (What'll I Do With This Love), Latin/flamenco (Girl With A Mission) and blues (the driving You Blew It Baby, where it rather feels she's trying to "do a Rory Block"!). These ventures are not unconvincing, as Kathy has the vocal chops to carry them off, but the level of songwriting therein really doesn't match up to the country and bluegrass ones where she's clearly more comfortable emotionally. The finest examples of her craft here, to my mind, are Missing You, I Wouldn't Be Here and the mournful, eastern-influenced title track. But in the end, I feel, it's Kathy's voice that impresses, more so than her songwriting - even so, this is still a creditable album and its longevity is redeemed to a large extent by the actual performances.
David Kidman June 2008
This album, showcasing six of Chicago's finest harp players also features The Chicago Bluesmasters who provide some excellent backing. The six players are Dusty Brown, Omar Coleman, Russ Green, Larry Cox, Harmonica Khan #1 and Little Addison and each are given two songs to impress. Dusty Brown serves up I Got To Go and He Don't Love You. The former is a good tempo Little Walter song that epitomises Chicago blues and played by an elder statesman of the city. Brown is, in fact, at age 77 the oldest performer here. He has lost none of his vigour and although He Don't Love You is of a slower pace it does project his tortured soul and experience. Omar Coleman's two offerings are Jody's Got Your Girl And Gone and You Don't Love Me. From the oldest performer to the youngest and Coleman's youth bursts out of his funky, modern blues. He often plays with John Primer's band but is not a full time musician. Having said that, his singing and playing are very strong and it is clear that he is heavily influenced by Billy Branch. You Don't Love Me is a great finish to the album. It has to be one of the highlights and why this guy is not in the upper echelons of blues is anybody's business. Russ Green is the strongest player so far and, although he wrote How Many More Years, you can hear the Howlin' Wolf influences. A Chicago native, he's another youngster at 39 and has modelled himself on Sugar Blue. His second song is Everything's Gonna Be Alright and I still reckon that he is the most powerful player from a selection of powerful players. This song sets up his power playing to perfection.
Next up is Larry Cox and he gives us the old classic, Mean Old World. Cox's world weary voice is as you'd expect from the Tennessee veteran – Chicago blues at its best. He was given his first harmonica at the age of four by Sonny Boy Williamson #2 and you can't get a much better start than that. Cox's other offering is Goin' To New York, a standard blues played to a slightly better than average standard by The Chicago Bluesmasters. They back all of the artists on the album apart from Harmonica Khan #1. Cox provides some great trills. The aforementioned Harmonica Khan #1 (real name George Meares-EL) is up next and his performance harks back to the players in old time Maxwell Street with his howling, foot stomping and bone rattling. Baby What You Want Me To Do is primitive stuff – I love it!! Khan's other contribution is Next Time You See Me and he manages to keep up the primitive sound whilst modern technology keeps the sound clean. I would love to hear just one song in person. The last artist is Little Addison and he is completely different from Harmonica Khan #1. This is electric blues with all the trimmings. Addison's history is as good as anyone's having played with Elmore James in the 1950s, had Luther Johnson in his band in the 1960s and counted Muddy Waters as one of his friends. His other track, the slow blues of Respect Me, loses a little on the vocal by trying to be too emotional. It's a powerful song though and the piano player sounds as if he's playing his fingers off. These are, very surprisingly, his first recordings at the age of 70.
If you like Chicago blues or harmonica blues in any way then this album has to be in your collection.
David Blue, July 2006
Chicago Blues Reunion - Buried Alive In The Blues (Out The Box Records)
I guess this live CD proves beyond reasonable doubt that the best blues is about extremes - happy, sad, misery and joy, lurking on the outer extremes of emotions you'll find the blues.
This 2004 performance from Fitzgerald's in Chicago (naturally), sees the return of Barry Goldberg, Nick Gravenites, Harvey Mandel and Corky Siegel to the city where they fashioned the transition of the blues into the blues/rock explosion of the late 60s. They are joined by the not inconsiderabe voices of Tracy Nelson and Sam Lay and these six are further augmented by the appearances of Zach Wagner, Rick Reed and Gary Mallaber, you can see why they call it a collective not a band.
While the date and venue wil be seared into the minds of all who were lucky enough to experience the show in person, (even on CD you can feel the heat, goodness knows what it was like in the front row). It could just as easily have been recorded at the beginning of the 60s because this kind of blistering performance took the blues from the coccoon of specialist clubs, radio and record labels and ignited the explosion that spawned the likes of Hendrix, Zeppelin and a host of other soon-to-be rock legends.
As Buried Alive In The Blues evolves you can almost hear the ghosts of bluesman past, pass the torch to the next generation. And, if for some reason you missed it all, the band round things off in fine style with a segue of Hound Dog and Roll Over Beethoven.
In the space of its two opening songs the album encapsulates why the blues will always be the most relevant and lasting of musical genres. Born In Chicago explodes with the force of a firework display set off against an inky black sky, the colours are the brightest you've seen, the sound the sharpest you've heard and the thrill the biggest. That 'high' is followed by Buried Alive In The Blues, a song written by Gravenites for the great Janis Joplin. Tragically Joplin died the night before she could lay down the vocals and the song appeared as an instrumental. Talk about a classic blues subject.
What the CD lacks in the natural ebb and flow and cohesion of a band that works together regularly, it more than makes up for in the collective talents of its personnel. There is no let up or quarter given as Tracy Nelson performs a towering Walk Away and then Gravenites weighs with the rollicking Drinking Wine, only to be then faced with the sheer malevolence of King Bee from Siegel.
The unbreakable connection between all the performers is their individual brilliance. Throughout Buried Alive In The Blues you can hear bands springing from its loins. Canned Heat is the son of GM Boogie and it would be hard to believe that Hendrix hadn't heard the band at least once before he launched his career.
In fact, it's all too easy to get caught up identifying influences and assessing Gravenites, Mandel, Goldberg and Siegel's place in history and lose sight of the fact that this is a band in the perfect place (on stage), doing all the right things and everyone's having a damn good time while they do it.
Whether you like your blues hot and steamy (Left Handed Soul and Death Of Muddy Waters) or bordering on heavy rock (Snake), it's all here in glorious technicolour. Forget the bland and the banal, Buried Alive In The Blues may be a draining experience but it's one you won't want to miss.
Michael Mee
Chicken Legs Weaver (a band, not a person) have had their debut album produced by the legendary Johnny Dowd and he has allowed them to stamp their personality all over it. They have come up with 12 original tracks of brooding blues that make them sound like recording veterans. Frontman Andy Weaver growls out his vocal on the opener, Paper Houses, which is full of grungy slide guitar and snappy drums. In The Ground is dark, moody and wonderful and the Country influenced Love Locked continues the grungy feel to the start of the album. The very powerful Desert Rose is packed with old style blues shouting and sleek guitar. Billboard Queen with its upright bass from Norton Lees is easy going by Chicken Legs standards but it still has that air of menace just bubbling under the surface. Gritty blues return in the shape of Your Enemy Cannot Harm You and the now obligatory punk elements and excellent slide guitar are to the fore. Weaver gives his all on vocals, as he does on all of the songs.
Howling Road is, compared to the others, quite sedate but normal service is resumed with Spring Isn't Coming This Year, not a blues as such but a good rock song anyway. Some people may feel Weaver's voice a bit overpowering though and may prefer to listen to the album in short bursts. Stump John & The Owl sets off at a pedestrian pace and tells a fine story. They are back to form on A Mile Out Of Town with Weavers snarling vocal a particular highlight. Zombiefied is about a hangover in parts and if this is what a hangover feels like them I'm glad I don't have them very often. This song takes you to a very dark place. The album closes with the classy, acoustic alt country of Sheol Station. This track with vocal, guitar and backing vocal only has as much impact as any of the more powerful punk blues tracks.
Chicken Legs Weaver is the dark side of the blues. In fact, if the blues were Star Wars then Chicken Legs Weaver would be Darth Vader himself.
David Blue, June 2006
Chicken Of The Woods - Chicken Of The Woods (Floating World Records)
Chicken Of The Woods probably don't take themselves or the music industry too seriously and nor should we - but then music should be about people having fun and enjoying themselves.
A chicken of the woods is a fungus which grows on trees, a runaway slave or a battery hen which has flown the coop - take your pick. COTW are also a modern London Art Band in the middle-aged delinquent/punk/folk/country blues genre (someone had to invent it!) who've produced a low-fi, toe-tapping album of beat-up guitar and mandolin strummery and lonesome harmonica howling.
There's a crazy bravery about it all which is irresistible. Here are innocent tales of contemporary country folk (and animals) and something a little more sinister ('Seeds and sweat and petrol in my hair'?). Christopher Twigg on vocals, guitar and harmonica and Chris Everett on mandolin, guitar and percussion, 'sing' songs with titles (and appropriate lyrics) which include The Ballad Of The Shropshire Lorry, Goldfish Memory, Half-deaf and Half-blind Alsatian, and In The Belly Of The Pig. There's percussion from Paul Becker and John Cheeseman is everywhere with double bass, piano, percussion and electric guitar. The album was recorded at the aptly named Snake Ranch, Chelsea.
COTW will be touring UK in June/July 2001. With choruses such as 'Emergency, Emergency, the horses, coming out now into the air', you'll be singing along too without asking yourself why!
Sue Cavendish
This is an extremely puzzling release, which I'm sure could have been made into something much better without an awful lot of extra effort. Firstly, it seems to have no connection whatsoever with the Cyril Tawney song of that name that namechecks that noted delicacy of naval cuisine, poached-egg-on-toast! Instead, it's "the American traditional folk project of two longtime veterans of the Oakland (CA) songwriter scene", wherein the duo "provide their own input to the meaning of the lyrics and melodies, carrying on the folk tradition", as the accompanying handout proclaims somewhat optimistically. Chicken On A Raft are Tommy Carns (of Boatclub and the Billy Talbott Band) and Thom Moore (of the Moore Brothers); they present us with 13 songs of varying provenance, sung in polite and considered (but only intermittently interesting) close harmony. Overall it's a weird choice of songs; though it includes some actually quite fascinating material like the strange Bachelor's Hall (got from Fiddlin' John Carson), the potent The Snow Is On The Ground (from the Frank Warner Collection) and of course Lone Pilgrim. There are, however, some more dubious choices, like Sam Bell's unfunny parody After Last Fall and a somewhat humorless rendition of the Nugrapes' 1926 hit I Got Your Ice Cold Nugrape! But the big drawback is that COAR treat each song much the same, with little or no expression or apparent understanding of the texts they're singing. For instance, the famous political anthem Which Side Are You On? is sung in exactly the same delivery as the Cherry Tree Carol. The "neat and complete", fully measured approach, and indeed their singing voices generally, are not unattractive in itself, should you listen to one song in isolation, but it still lacks passion almost entirely. Any enterprise and ingenuity in searching out some genuinely unusual and interesting material is negated by the dull, deadpan delivery. The most well-known of the traditional songs here, Searching For Lambs, which is done solo by one of the duo (sorry, I don't know which!), is tedious and unduly tentative (and not even particularly well sung). Oh, and the booklet design is a travesty, with pointlessly minimalist artwork that has no connection with the contents, no details of the performers other than the bland statement "COAR is TC and TM singing"!!! Even the unaccountably brief notes on the songs are less than ideally informative, especially considering the potentially intriguing provenance of many of them. Perhaps it's a good thing, then, that the disc only lasts a paltry (sic!) 29 minutes in total. No; to carry the Chicken-On-A-Raft analogy a stage further: this disc is more than a curate's egg, whose success it's rather difficult to toast!
David Kidman January 2007
The Chieftains - Live From Dublin: A Tribute To Derek Bell (RCA Victor)
www.chieftains.com
www.irish.com
David Kidman
The Chieftains - Further Down The Old Plank Road (RCA Victor)
A third instalment of their bringing together of Irish and American roots, this follows the path of its immediate predecessor with the group joined by an assortment of star names drawn from the bluegrass and Americana genres. Relative newcomers Nickle Creek get to start the ball rolling with Raggle Taggle Gypsy and while, given the concept, there's not exactly any eyebrow raising surprises there's plenty of good times to be had before Rosanne Cash closes up shop with a moody The Lily of the West. Between times you'll find a mix of instrumentals featuring guests Doc Watson, Chet Atkins, and Jerry Douglas and songs with such diverse voices as Joe Ely (I'm A Gambler I'm A Rambler), Don Williams (a typically sleepy Wild Mountain Thyme), John Hiatt (kicking up a pair of heels on Jordan's A Hard Road To Travel), a very authentic folk sounding Alison Moorer (Hick's Farewell), Carlene Carter The Cheating Waltz) and Patty Loveless (the sombre Three Little Babies). Perhaps inevitably Emmylou steals the honours with a plaintive Lambs In The Greenfield, though John Prine's a close runner up sounding like he's just returning from an all night session on the black stuff with The Girl From Sunny Tennessee.
Mike Davies
The Chieftains - Down The Old Plank Road (RCA)
It seems no one's immune to the O Brother mountain music resurgence, hence no sooner has The Wide World Over's 40th anniversary compilation reached the store racks than here comes the result of the veteran Irish outfit schlepping out to Nashville to take Newcastle to the coals for their 40th album, joining the dots between authentic Celtic instrumentation, composition and arrangements with old time country for what is essentially a sequel to 1992's Grammy winning Another Country.
Inevitably this also meant again hauling in a wagon load of American practitioners to share the album's journey through folk ballads, lullabies and fiddle tunes plucked from both countries traditions. Throwing their bluegrass weight into the mix there's Ricky Scaggs (the cowboy evergreen Cindy), Bela Fleck (figuring on both a collection of banjo n fiddle reels and the opening title track hoe down with John Hiatt on vocals), Del McLoury (Rain And Snow) and the legendary Earl Scruggs who scorches up a forest fire racing through Sally Goodin. By way of upsetting expectations, Alison Krauss gives her favoured musical form a wide berth to lend her voice to the sombre slow march trad folk death song Molly Bawn (better known on the folk scene as Polly Vaughan) with its uillean pipes offering a resonant ache.
Elsewhere Lyle Lovett tumbles through Don't Let Your Deal Go Down, Patti Griffin turns Whole Heap Of Little Horses into a frankly disturbing lullaby which, with its woodwind solo, is more likely to spook than soothe, an Americana gothic mood complemented by Gillian Welch and David Rawlings harmonising on murder ballad Katie Dear while the Chieftains interpolate a classic Irish melody into the bridges.
It all winds up in a rousing ten minute hooley finale of Give the Fiddler a Dram with everyone throwing their penny(whistle)worth into the party knees up, but pushed to single out one favourite it'd have to be Vince Gill again acknowledging his roots and heritage with a sterling cover of Dark As A Dungeon. A Plank well worth walking.
PS. A second volume featuring Emmylou Harris, Patty Loveless, Allison Moorer, John Prine, Joe Ely, Jerry Douglas and the Nitty Gritty Dirt Band will be released in 2003
www.rcaredseal-rcavictor.com
www.irish.com
Mike Davies
When David Childers released "Room 23"' his previous, excellent, album, I remember being confused as to where the heart of his music lay, such was the variety of styles. Well from three bars in to Jailhouse Religion there can be no doubt: he's a rock and roll man and he's not going quietly. Tumbling guitar notes are drowned under power chords and a thudding rhythm section as the band launch into "No Pool Hall". When you've got the message that hard rocking is what this band is about, the band rein back a bit for track 4 "Bottom of my Bottle", and you get to hear that in another musical context David Childers would be a folksinger. Sometimes humorous and sometimes tender, he writes slice-of-life story songs that deal with his own and other people's stories, facing up to the sometimes bleak realities of life, but celebrating the joys too. He deals with political issues as well, and here his humorous take on George Wallace's career (simply, "George Wallace") is a standout track for me. The religious theme that appears in the title track (Jailhouse religion is apparently first cousin to deathbed religion) crops up in other places too, and clearly religion is an issue that you have to contend with, no matter what your personal beliefs, in the America of today. The delightful "Roadside Parable" is a revisiting of the tale of the Good Samaritan, with the singer being one of those who passed by on the other side....and then regretted it.
Like any good rock band, the slower, quieter songs come slow and quiet but never less than muscular because thy're always playing and singing above the sound of the crowd at the bar. Only "Chains of Sadness" with its use of mandolin and banjo has a lightness and delicacy that escapes the general rule. Live, I bet these guys put on a storming set, and the songs will get under your skin and stay with you. Time to check them out if you haven't already.
John Davy
It's just over 20 years since Childs released her debut album, Union, and scored a sizeable international hit with rock ballad Don't Walk Away. However, in the period since then she's only been two further albums, 1991's House Of Hope and The Woman's Boat three years later. Now, 15 years on, she returns, reunited with debut album producer David Ricketts, to serve reminder of a powerful voice that at times sounds like a fusion of Grace Slick, Melanie and Marianne Faithful. Sure, there's distinct 80s feel to the music while the material mostly date back to the mid 90s, but there's plenty here to make you hail her comeback, her performance always dynamic even if the songs themselves fall short.
Mingling folk elements with the stadium rock, standouts would have to include the opening lighters aloft stay true to yourself anthemics of Keep The Faith,a bluesy rock I Saw God In The Supermarket, the quiveringly emotive One Life (though it should have lost the funky wah wah guitar bits), the orchestrally arranged six and half minute big build ballad When All Is Said And Done and (partly because she strikingly reminds me of New Zealand's former Earthband singer Shona Laing) the 2004 Emmy award winning Because You're Beautiful.
www.tonichilds.com
www.myspace.com/thetonichilds
Mike Davies May 2009
The fiery fiddler from Wolfstone (also latterly Blazin' Fiddles and Section A9) has on his solo ventures thus far (Redpoint and The Door Of Saints) shown an altogether more mellow and relaxed side to his artistry, and album number three leans even more in this direction with six out of its ten tracks built around slow airs, a musical form of which he's proved a consummate master. Compositions come from the pens of established writers (Gordon Duncan, Fred Morrison, Michael McGoldrick), topped up with a couple by Duncan himself. And Farrar turns out to be as magical as the mountain which inspired it, producing a succession of atmospheric tunes-as-tone-pictures. Duncan's magnificent playing is so at peace with its inspiration, yet its sheer silken eloquence can also be slightly deceptive in that it can sometimes conceal the depth of emotion within the notes and the phrasing. There's a wonderfully unforced sense of flow to Duncan's playing, a classical kind of poise allied to a miraculous control of line. Take his majestic rendition of Alasdair's Tune (composed by Charlie McKerron), or the sublimely tender and haunting A' Mhairead Og. On the graceful yet poignant Lorient Mornings, Duncan doubletracks a viola part and Phil Cunningham provides a supremely sensitive piano accompaniment. Other supporting musicians - Kris Drever (acoustic guitar), Ross Hamilton (bass, electric guitar) and Martin O'Neill (bodhrán) - help Duncan to realise his vision, and such is the high quality of the recording (all credit to Brian McNeill here) that all contributions are given a credible perspective while allowing Duncan's own playing to bloom and shine; for example, the glistening tones of The Hill Of The High Byre are a model of restrained accompaniment yet add considerably to the atmosphere and impact of the contours of the tune. On the more animated selections such as Duncan's own reel The Farley Bridge and the Galician-inflected 250 To Vigo (composed by Shooglenifty's Angus Grant), the tune loses absolutely nothing in forward momentum while Duncan's trademark unhurried lyricism still permeates the playing. Throughout, Duncan's musicianship is miraculous, outstandingly stylish and eloquent, and this is a significantly classy record which I can't praise highly enough. Its one flaw is in the design of the package, where a dour grey-on-black colour scheme renders the credits etc extremely difficult to read (Stop Press: even this has now been sorted, I'm told, on the latest pressing)..
David Kidman February 2009
It's entirely understandable to read a review about an album as intensely personal as Zimbabwean musician Chiwoniso's Rebel Woman is and be sceptical. After all, unless you've seen the world through her eyes, how can you begin to know just what this music means to her.
The truth is you can't, but what you can say hand on heart is that Chiwoniso brings such commitment and self belief to the music, she carries you along with her and perhaps that's the point. Everyone has a view but if a musician believes as deeply and risks so much as Chiwonisa does then that's all you can ask for. Again, without knowing definitively, you wouldn't claim to be a champion of free speech and a mirror to Zimbabwe's plight unless your conscience ran deep. But Rebel Woman doesn't flinch or turn its head from anything that may make its creator's chosen path one fraught with danger, Rebel Woman is a set of challenges met head on.
Even a lack of literal understanding - the almost inevitable consequence of an album recorded in a mix of languages - can't mask the feeling of strength and ultimately hope that runs through the album. Just the defiant spirit of Nguva Ye Kufara is enough to inspire and lift the soul.
Although the album was recorded in Zimbabwe, South Africa, England and slightly bizarrely Vermont (Cumbancha's HQ) and Chiwoniso herself cites rock, soul, r'n'b and reggae as influences, there is not a hint of commercial compromise. If this album is influenced by anything other than Chiwoniso's burning desire to tell stories that need to be told, then it's well hidden.
Perhaps the one concession is that some of the tracks contain lyrics in English and two, Listen To The Breeze and the title track - inspired by a poem about the role of women in Zimbabawe's war of independence - entirely so. Strangely it makes no difference either way that you can follow the narrative, the gentle strength of Nerudo for instance has a far louder voice.
Rebel Woman doesn't fit anywhere into the normal scheme of thing. True, it's a serious piece of work but alongside that it's also an almost indescribable pleasure to listen to.
Michael Mee September 2008
This, claims the accompanying press release, is the first ever career overview CD to explore the work of Keith Christmas, a singer-songwriter in the classic mould who achieved a measure of fame at the cusp of the decade with three fine albums which followed swiftly after his appearance at the very first Glastonbury Festival in 1970. For those fans who have consistently believed in Keith's status as a greater-than-minor-league recording artist, it's criminal that these three albums haven't yet been reissued on CD, and I do hope that this anthology will prove successful enough for Sanctuary to consider doing so. In the meantime, this single-disc selection, which presents seven tracks from each of the two original LPs Fable Of The Wings and Pigmy (albums two and three in the Christmas discography respectively), together with a previously unreleased 1969 live recording from around the time of the Stimulus (first album) sessions, will have to suffice (says he reluctantly). One rather curious error in the text of the otherwise admirable booklet states that this anthology includes "material from Stimulus", but aside from that aforementioned live track and the third-album re-recording of another song (see below) it doesn't really! (perhaps a two-disc anthology was originally planned??) I'd readily acknowledge that Stimulus was an uneven and poorly-recorded debut, where the disparate elements didn't always quite gel, but it nevertheless contained some fine songs and performances worth resurrecting and is of more than mere curiosity value in my opinion. However, to deal with what we do have on this release: the vital hallmarks of Keith's distinctive style, such as the dextrous guitar style and bittersweet vocal work, are here in force, especially on the Pigmy tracks, many of which I'd consider to be amongst Keith's finest work (even though one standout, Travelling Down, turned out to be a reworking of a Stimulus track with a fine new string arrangement courtesy of Robert Kirby). The maturity of Keith's songwriting at that time marks him out as up with the best the scene had to offer. On Fable Of The Wings, there had been times when I felt Keith's writing got a mite buried in the rocked-up arrangements (characteristically of-their-time and well-judged though they were), although Lorri might be termed a minor masterpiece and The Faun and Fable Of The Wings itself very beautiful creations (the latter was even covered by Martin Carthy). So, Timeless And Strange probably does represent the best of those second and third albums, and by implication the best of Keith's recorded output over those early years, but it's surely not as claimed, "the career overview that Christmas devotees have been waiting for" - for after all, Keith's contributions to David Bowie's Space Oddity album predated his own solo albums, while, even more importantly, Keith's career didn't stop at Pigmy. He continued recording through the mid-70s, with two albums for Manticore (admittedly less artistically satisfying, but worth an airing), then toured with Phil Manzanera's 801 before retiring from music for a decade, after which he returned to the folk/blues live circuit in the 90s with the Weatherman blues band and, later in the decade, a fine Ashley Hutchings-produced solo album Love Beyond Deals; not to mention the acclaimed 2004 instrumental release Acoustica... But the music on this anthology: Timeless? - indeed, but strange? - no, and very much worth reviving.
David Kidman, July 2006
The My Beautiful Demon debut pretty much saw the Wolverhampton born Christophers hailed as the second coming of singer-songwriters, earning his comparisons to Jeff Buckley, Thom Yorke and, with that angelic, fragile almost feminine voice, even Liz Fraser. His eagerly anticipated follow-up is essentially more of the same, but even better. An otherwordly soulful blues imbued with a cosmic ethereality, producer David Hosten again weaving an intoxicating mix of the avant garde and classical around Christopher's hypnotic sparse melodies and narcotic beats. Atmospheric numbers like Falls Into View, Easter Park and the Erik Satie influenced title track will inevitably prompt more Radiohead talk but a more direct reference point would be Talktalk where warmth rather than cold phobia is the order of the day. Musically there's colours from backwoods American folk (Leaving My Sorrow Behind), European liturgy (The Stream), dustbowl blues (evident on the wistfully haunted Ry Cooder-like guitar of The Opium Willows) and the East (Songbird Scrapes the Sky) while lyrically (images of flight and water prevalent) themes of release, cleansing and surrendering wholly to another and finding yourself in their reflection suggest the lad's been bitten by a serious love bug. One to close the eyes and let your astral body have a groove, though Transatlantic Shooting Stars is proof he can get up and (in his terms at least) rock n roll with the best of them.
Mike Davies
The Chucky Monroes - Fallen Angel (Laughing Outlaw)
The Chucky Monroes are the complete opposite to The Hazelwoods illustrating how diverse the music on Laughing Outlaw is. Dark and dense, Fallen Angel is as good as any Alt. Country album out of the States and will find its way across musical genres into the world of the Goths where, in fact, it really belongs. The Chucky's are a power trio, two guitars and drums (no bass - they don't need it!) who are produced by Tony Cohen (Nick Cave and The Cruel Sea). Often you're listening to drums, electric guitar with an acoustic playing rhythm and it's surprising how huge this combination can be. I love this release and if you ask me "why?" then I'll say "because the band sound like a close relative of The The, one of my favourite groups of all time." Muzza, lead singer, whispers out the chilling lyrics with a style close to Matt Johnson and the guitars, whether slide or straight, are pure Johnny Marr. Fallen Angel is as dark and intriguing as Dusk, so unless Matt comes up with a collection of Jimmy Rogers songs this could be the misery album of the year.
cj holley
[Ed: Misery album of the year? This is high praise indeed from cj!]
Typically, since their last "singsong and scrap" of a studio album, followed by another slew of ripping gigs (and a live CD) proving the strength and eternal relevance of acoustic unplugged delivery and acappella, our Chumba chums have gone away and tinkered with their winning formula. And they've emerged with a totally fresh-sounding new batch of material that effortlessly avoids the charge of "same old same old" that plagues so many artistic comebacks.
Though recognisably, quintessentially Chumba, this new material also resonates powerfully with the time-honoured purpose of folk music as both propaganda and pertinent commentary on our times. In other words, The Boy Bands... is a real modern-day concept album. But hang on there - for, as often with Chumba, you can't, and mustn't, take the label on the tin at face value. For the album title, like the newsy-banner-slogan it cheekily replicates, will turn out to be at best only journalistic shorthand, half the story, or else an incomplete (and ostensibly contentious and provocative) assertion that begs an ellipsis: where the key qualifying clause has been omitted, leaving behind a blatant lie, or at best a distinctly misleading impression of what's actually being said. In this case, the title needs completing with "... if we allow our culture to be shaped by mimicry, whether from lack of ideas or exaggerated respect" (and yeah, right on, brother!).
As the band's new, improved website reminds us, "Chumba began with a mission to be interesting and arresting, to be literate and understanding"; and that mission has become a tradition, which is continued strong throughout the 25 tracks making up this latest CD. Together they present a continuous moving-target, moving-carpet kaleidoscope of ideas - some just passing thoughts, others fully-formed songs, but (rather like those Mothers/Zappa albums with loads of little tracks) each one having a point to make, doing so with admirable economy and moving on pronto to the next one. You could justifiably say that the album's 25 tracks together comprise a representation of modern life and culture, easily mixing musical styles and modes in an accessible and listenable language on songs that are often honey-coated and "deceptively gentle and warm in tone, but caustic in intent".
Chumbawamba reprise their customary stage role as Dickensian cultural pickpockets, but this time "it's all different again" as they unerringly shine their moveable spotlight onto all the important stuff of life in turn. There are songs about individual people (the innocent Gary Tyler, the survivor El Fusilado, the poet Philip Larkin, the dreaded Margaret Thatcher), and songs sung from the viewpoint of individuals (Refugee, a modern-day counterpart to Patience Kershaw, and Compliments Of Your Waitress). And there are some delightfully wry commentaries (Add Me punningly examines the MySpace phenomenon, and A Fine Career is a neat little pub-singalong exposé done to perfection here by Robb Johnson). There are also several songs about literacy, poetry and the power and use of words, from Words Can Save Us and (Words Flew) Right Around The World to RIP, RP and The Ogre - and most pertinently, Word Bomber (sung here by Roy Bailey), while the tale of Lord Bateman's Motorbike shows that "traditions are there to be destroyed as well as celebrated".
As well as the already-mentioned guest singers, the supporting cast of "a hundred others, give or take a few" at various times includes Oysterband, Barry Coope, Jim Boyes, Ray Hearne, Jo Freya, Harry Hamer and the Durbervilles' Dave Crickmore. All of whom are, like the core members of Chumba, masters of their art, and living proof of the paramount importance of the dictum that "the only thing that you can do to music that will damage it is not change it, not make it your own". With The Boy Bands Have Won, Chumba continue to provide the model for the creative recycling of our culture.
www.chumba.com
www.myspace.com/acoustichumbawamba
David Kidman March 2008
The freshly-slimmed-down Chumba, now well and truly part of the esteemed South Yorkshire Cooperative, are continually moving on – as any band worth their salt should be doing in this dubious and unpredictable age. As their website proclaims: "Aware that so many bands just get on stage and play, refusing to interact with the audience, Chumbawamba are determined to make gigs inclusive, not alienating. "Get on with it!" shouts the man at the back. Get on with what? With the same old show, with the expected re-treading of the past? No. This is Chumbawamba getting on with doing what they do best - mouthing off, analysing the world, having a laugh... and all to a catchy tune." You can't do better to sum up the music on this disc, which, though inevitably containing an element of retread (it's more a sense of remake/reinterpret for our times, naturally), rings the changes on even the older material in the set for the latest live presentation. A couple of years of performing purely acoustically have brought Chumba firmly into the folk-cred ambit, and their sense of vocal togetherness and proficiency, though always impressive, is now even more so, as this new CD, drawn from live gigs during 2006 at various venues across the country, proves. Increased proficiency can very often lead to a loss in immediacy of communication, but this is emphatically not the case with Chumba, as they have so very strong and convivial a rapport with their audience - you could well say that every member of their audience sings from the same hymn-sheet! Aside from the inevitable sense of "edited highlights" that goes with any live compilation, this truthful set spans rebel-song folk (Song On The Times), rewritten folksong (Hard Times Of Old England), "old Chumba popsongs" like Timebomb and Homophobia, and newer favourites (On eBay, Jacob's Ladder), as well as the delicious Learning To Love and a deceptively sweet-toned cover of Mike Waterson's Stitch In Time - all retaining and developing that characteristic Chumba bite and cutting edge. And the guest appearance of "that wellknown law firm" CB&S for Hanging On The Old Barbed Wire is entirely right and proper. The music scene would be so much poorer without folks of such unbridled integrity - long may Chumba continue to tell it like it is!
David Kidman 2007
Chumbawamba - A Singsong And A Scrap (No Master's Cooperative)
Here, the mighty Chumbawamba emerge fresh from the runaway success of a cluster of acoustic/unplugged gigs which they undertook to promote last year's expanded reissue of their English Rebel Songs CD, into the daylight and off to join the esteemed northern-based Co-operative. And the newly-slimmed-down version of Chumba (now just Jude, Lou, Boff and Neil) have come up with a brand new collection of original songs performed wholly acoustically and without the aid of drums, loops or samplers.
The newly foursomed Chumba describe themselves as a kind of "newfolk agitprop acoustic Metallica", yet fans of the former all-electric tubthumping octopus incarnation still needn't feel terribly shortchanged, for still present and correct, and very much up front, are those superb trademark Chumba vocal harmonies and insidiously catchy chorus lines we know and love. And as ever, don't be fooled, for the easy tunefulness of the music belies the radical voice that's still very much present in the content, an accessible tunefulness that's you might say is much in the manner and style of (and taking obvious inspiration from) the best 60s pop confections.
To part-paraphrase the Chumba website, unplugged pop meets traditional English, jangly acoustic singalongs rub shoulders with choral secular music. The band's aim of producing an album that's "open and straightforward and less polished" has been achieved here, with the help of a few mates (Coope, Boyes & Simpson, Oysterband's John Jones & Ian Telfer, Andy Cutting, James O'Grady, Winkie Thin and Richard Ormrod). And it's an album that strips down and takes further back in time and sensibility the world of Readymades, removing the technological overlays and veneer to reveal a deep feel for the tradition.
So, as well as archetypal observational Chumba in the shape of soon-to-be-classics like Laughter In A Time Of War and The Land Of Do What You're Told, there's a freshly "legal" appearance of Bella Ciao (for long a Chumba live favourite) and a defiantly folky cover of Joe Strummer's Bankrobber. And in spite of the light textures and delicate instrumentation, the depth of emotional and political commitment in the new songs is never in any doubt. Learning To Love is a beautiful new song very much in the "broken courtship" tradition, You Can recalls the 1932 Mass Trespass (and gives the CD its title, incidentally), By And By is a tribute to songwriter and activist Joe Hill, and Smith & Taylor celebrates the unsung hard graft of those who died building celebrated structures ("the concealed waste of every grand design"). Only some interpolated pub-atmospherics midway through When Alexander Met Emma strike an intrusive false note of studio gimmickry into what's otherwise a direct, wonderfully immediate and actually quite intimate musical experience.
David Kidman
The City Waites - Penny Merriments: Street Songs Of 17th Century England (Naxos)
For close on three decades now, the City Waites have been peddling their lusty and characterful renditions of what on the "serious" (ie classical) music scene is loosely but accurately termed "early music", though unlike many of their contemporaries in that sphere of musical activity they've specialised for the most part on "the pop music of the day". Such songs, as the learnèd booklet notes point out, were churned out by anonymous hacks then printed in their thousands on crude penny broadsheets; they subsequently became known as Broadside Ballads. They might as easily have been performed for domestic entertainment as heard on the London stage or posted up on the wall of a country tavern, and their subject matter was as broad as the life itself they reflected, embracing historical events, sensationalist escapist tales of bold heroes or sexual exploits, and bawdy comic stories and situations. Directly descending from the long classic folk ballads, then, but specifically a form of mass communication, and their heyday was the 17th century. This CD has been produced following years of research by the noted early-music specialist and broadcaster Lucie Skeaping (a book is also in the offing later this year). Lucie, with husband Roderick, had co-founded the City Waites group in the mid-70s; in fact, they came perilously close to our own pop charts, in 1973 or 1974 I think, with a single (The Fox), the B-side of which, One Of My Aunts, appears (retitled Seldom Cleanly), in an extended and re-recorded form on this very CD. The performances by the City Waites are replete with resourceful instrumental scoring (for the original sources rarely contained any musical notation even, let alone indication of accompaniment), while the unfailingly expert playing of the ensemble's four instrumentalists (who between them play cittern, lute, theorbo, baroque guitar, recorder, bass curtal, fiddle, bass viol, "bum fiddle", bagpipes and percussion) is a joy outwith the sung renditions they accompany. The vocal complement of the Waites (comprising a soprano, a tenor and a bass-baritone) is very lively indeed, yet some will find it not quite "rough enough for folk" as they say, since it's by turns either a little refined or else it can be somewhat over-theatrical (in an attempt to portray street characters there can be a tendency to over-dramatise in either a quasi-operatic or quasi-music-hall manner), some accents even seeming a mite forced, but it's mostly good fun if taken in the right spirit. I particularly liked Lucie's own singing, which has a clean, fresh vigour; her unaccompanied rendition of The Country Lass is very fine; other highlights for me included the Greensleeves variant Old England Grown New, also The Downfall Of Dancing (deliciously done to the Robin Goodfellow tune and combined with a Playford dance), and A Merry Jest Of John Thomson And Jakaman His Wife… (also known as Give Me My Yellow Hose Again) and The Courtier's Health, both of which stay the right side of the line between expressive comedy and over-statement. One other point worth noting is that this CD comes at super-bargain price (a fiver!), and complete with excellent notes (and links to the full texts which are easily downloadable from the Naxos website!), so it represents very good value indeed and provides a fascinating and immensely enjoyable 70 minutes' entertainment.
www.naxos.com
www.citywaites.co.uk
David Kidman
The Claque blends together four voices of depth and maturity, all with serious folk credentials. Dave Lowry and Sean O'Shea conjure up memories of 70s acts Isca Fayre and Hollinmor, while Tom Addison is fondly remembered from the Songwainers (whose iconic Argo album must surely be a candidate for reissue), in whose recently re-formed lineup we also find Barry Lister (whose fine Ghosts And Greasepaint album gave me much pleasure). Going against the grain of the group's name, however, no "preconcerted applause" need be bestowed on this disc to ensure its success, for it will stand (or falls) purely on the strength of its refreshingly no-frills performances and excellently judged recording. Here The Claque give us fifteen traditional (or thereabouts) songs in warm and considered acappella harmony: nothing over-cosy or tediously safe but plenty to fascinate the eager or more adventurous ear. The group's repertoire is well chosen: off the beaten track it may be, but it's a connoisseur's selection with some really fine songs from a variety of sources. Two - including the grand, epic Tom Of Bedlam - come from the singing of the Songwainers' Dave Stephenson; the poignant Farewell, Farewell comes from Padstow in the time of the Great War; Drink, Puppy, Drink is a vigorous galloping-song; whereas My Faithful Johnnie, gleaned from the singing of Jeannie Robertson, is possibly the most well-known item on the disc. If harmony singing is your bag then you'll find much to admire and enjoy in these performances, for there's much that's exciting going on, in the lower parts in particular. For those less used to this manner of delivery, however, closer listening is required in order to get the most out of the arrangements - but that's no less than they deserve, to be fair. The full ensemble can very occasionally seem mildly underpowered or undersung, but that's a minor issue considering the superb quality of the actual singing on both an individual and combined basis.
David Kidman July 2008
This lass is a discovery, sure enough: Rebecca's a Cambridge-born singer-songwriter now living in a wooden house in Finland, where (according to her website biog) she plays the piano and sings, talks to squirrels and falls over in the snow… Whatever, her stock-in-trade is intense and powerful emotional observation, whereby torrents of words paint free-flowing word-pictures; these are at once reflected and counterpointed by her unusual keyboard style, which is high-powered and rhythmically buoyant and yet (perversely?) supremely elegant. The literacy of her imagery and the peculiarly compelling nature of her expressive singing all contribute to a definite overall "arty" vibe, but this is both attractively dynamic and very different from the unfortunate mental image this might at first conjure. Rebecca's a true original, not really sounding like anyone else, and very few artists would be brave enough to release an album of such stark, unadorned, solitary grandeur: Rebecca's only accompaniment is her piano, save for the swooping, swooning violin of Lucy Welch on just one song (the reprise version of Tower Of You that crops up as an uncredited bonus track). True, Rebecca's vocal delivery possesses shades of both Tori Amos and Kate Bush and, in the slightly quavery phrasing that creeps into her singing at times, Martha Tilston - but without the latter's tonal fragility: Rebecca's is a more robust voice generally. The above comparisons may give some idea of her quirkiness and idiosyncratic character, but they don't provide much of a pointer to Rebecca's unearthly distinctiveness and originality as far as her extraordinary lyrics are concerned. In that connection, the one thing regarding this album about which I'm unhappy is the absence of the lyrics from the totally blank booklet that comes with the CD (it would be really useful to be able to read and absorb them at greater leisure) - and there's precious little on her website in the way of information and certainly no lyrics that I could find: a shame when that's such an important part of Rebecca's art. I can appreciate the value of remaining artistically just a little enigmatic, and sure, the songs should be able to speak for themselves, but this may be taking it too far. That aside, this is a brave and fascinating, if at times ascetic debut album that begs the question of how Rebecca might be able to follow it next time round.
David Kidman April 2007
Singer Aoife, daughter of the late Bobby (one of the famous Clancy Brothers), is now resuming her solo career after a successful five years with Cherish The Ladies, and this sparkling new album is the first fruit. Re-establishing her own name, Aoife here decided to record a representative selection of material in order "to delve further into the world of Irish, Scottish, English, Appalachian and contemporary folk". That means some traditional songs from both sides of the pond – there's a neat, vigorously-paced shuffling take on Banks Of The Sweet Primroses, and of course the glorious title track, a song I first remember hearing on Packie Byrne's magical recording – and some choice contemporary material, the pick of which is probably Mark Simos's delightful, country-tinged Giving (which I could have sworn Alison Krauss had once covered too, but I could be wrong) and Ron Kavana's Reconciliation (which Aoife has performed much with CTL yet never previously recorded). Backings are kept admirably simple, tenderly executed and tasteful, with folks like Ted Ponsonby (dobro, guitar), Lissa Schneckenburger and Al Gould (fiddles), Jacqueline Schwab (piano) and Liam Bradley (percussion) forming the mainstay, although the family connection is maintained too, with guitarist Donal Clancy (member of Solas) featuring on three tracks and father Bobby duetting with Aoife on the final track. Actually, my favourite track's probably Across the Blue Mountains, an Appalachian ballad which Aoife sings acapella with Julee Glaub and Aoife O'Donovan. The whole album's characterised by Aoife's cool and clear singing, with crystalline diction, which makes for an enticing and refreshing listening experience. Yes, on the evidence of this fine release, Aoife sure continues to be a lady to cherish!
David Kidman
Dónal, son of the legendary Clancy Brother Liam, is probably best known as co-founder of the band Danú, the ranks of whom he rejoined in 2003 after a brief absence. He's one of Ireland's foremost guitarists as regards interpretation of traditional Irish tunes, and started performing more than 15 years ago in his native Co. Waterford, going on to record albums with his father and cousin Robbie O'Connell and also appearing on records by Eileen Ivers' band, Kevin Crawford, Solas and Cherish The Ladies. His playing on this, his first solo album, is at once easygoing and vital, and he has a keen sense of rhythmic momentum which is infectious - as you can hear on every twist and turn of the tunes, whether they be reel, jig or hornpipe. Dónal does indulge in some multitracking, accompanying himself on bodhrán and/or bouzouki on occasion, and the results are exhilarating, as especially on the jig-sets (tracks 4 and 10) and the closing pair of hornpipes. David Power guests with a drone on the brief Repeal Of The Union reel, otherwise as I said the album is completely Dónal in intimate solo mode. Dónal also shows himself capable of plenty of attractive light and shade in his fingerwork, as on the slow air Seán Ó Duibhir Á Ghleanna played as a prelude to the Bill Malley's barn dance (track 6) which Dónal learnt from fiddler Martin Hayes. As well as including several slow airs on the disc, Dónal also turns in a neat, sprightly rendition of O'Carolan's Lord Inchiquin. The recording (which Dónal produced himself) is top-class, capturing enough sense of the action without it getting to be obtrusive, and, exceptional playing notwithstanding, the actual sound of Dónal's instrument is sufficiently appealing for the listener not to grow tired of hearing only guitar tones for most of the record.
David Kidman January 2007
Clannad's second eponymous album is here released as part of the 50th anniversary celebrations of the Irish label Gael Linn. Even more so than the band's first, perhaps, this album acted as a benchmark for contemporary interpretation of indigenous Irish and Scottish material, and certainly proved a winner on its original appearance in 1974. It was widely and deservedly acclaimed, as much for its artful (and at that time fairly ambitious) marriage of traditional songs and tunes with quite sophisticated, often jazz-inflected arrangements, as for its superlative performances (particularly those of vocalist Máire Brennan). This was all before Clannad ventured into electronic texturings, and the album undeniably represents the peak of the band's acoustic period, with its captivating mixture of the exhilarating and the plaintive (at both of which extremes of expression Clannad excelled) on which the band were given free rein to demonstrate their admirable capacity to exercise restraint yet still communicate in order to produce the desired effect.
This album presents some excellent interpretations of songs - notably the highly charged Coinleach Ghlas An Fhómair and the charming By Chance It Was (this latter, unusually for Clannad, sourced from the English West Country), while the "slightly electrified" arrangement of the Scottish waulking song Dhéanainn Súgradh could (flute aside) almost have been taken from Trees or first-album-vintage Steeleye album. The purely instrumental cuts positively exude vitality and finesse, even at the relaxed pace of the whimsically-titled jig Fairly Short Of Her, and alongside the expected Irish material the band tackles a lively mountain gavotte (Rince Briotánach) which they learnt from the Breton group Triskell.
Thirty years on, a lot may have changed on the contemporary-Celtic scene, but Clannad's second album remains one of the important releases in the "second vanguard" and its reissue by Gael Linn is now doubly welcome; I sure am glad to have a "playable" copy of this record at long last!
www.gaellinn.com
www.copperplateconsultants.com
David Kidman
This is a generous and worthwhile 40-track anthology that divides its time almost equally between Eric's "slowhand" days with the Yardbirds (both live and in the studio) and backing Sonny Boy Williamson - on the first disc - and Eric's time with John Mayall's Bluesbreakers and the Immediate All-Stars, and some odd items from his session-work CV, on the second disc. Disc 1 brings a mixture of often-heard tracks (five from the Five Live Yardbirds album) and less-frequently-compiled recordings, even downrigfht obscurities, ranging in time from 1963 through to 1966 (tho' not strictly chronologically), including the late-1964 cancelled A-side Putty In Your Hands and ending on a high note with the alternate take of the classic instrumental B-side Got To Hurry that originally graced the 1977 Charly Shapes Of Things collection. Disc 2 finds Eric backing Otis Spann and Champion Jack Dupree in 1965 and 1966, then there's four tracks with Jimmy Page from Immediate's Blues Anytime vol 2 set and both sides of two singles that Eric made with Mayall for Immediate and Purdah - best of which by far is Telephone Blues, a fine cut that was unaccountably relegated to a B-side! The most wellknown item on Disc 2 is Have You Heard from the landmark Decca "Beano cover" Blues Breakers album, virtually all of the rest are either obscure or uncomped. Disc 2 closes with two tracks from the obscure Martha Velez LP Fiends And Angels (with Eric both holding back and being mixed quite far back), and that wonderful Viv Stanshall A-side Labio-Dental Fricative (1970), on which Eric has a bit of fun at his own expense, you might say. In fact, perhaps the only thing we don't get on this intro-and-outro-to Eric's non-Cream 60s work is Eric on ukulele! All in all, it's an anthology that's full of incidental (as well as labio-dental!) interest, and worth acquiring, with comprehensive liner notes in the best Sanctuary/Castle tradition.
David Kidman March 2008
Eric Clapton - Me And Mr. Johnson (Reprise)
Me and Mr. Clapton go back a long way, too. Sure The Yardbirds was a vinyl only affair but the Mayall and Cream tristes were full on. Even saw Blind Faith in the park and our solo meetings have been many and varied. Never, however, daubed Clapton Is God on a vacant wall; may have been iconography in the Smoke but in Whitley Bay it was vandalism. Now this long term relationship has certainly been anything but stress free; once the first flush of excitement waned and the first salvo of solo albums had passed it ran into difficulties - for both of us. For me it was albums with appalling quality control, the artist seemingly hell bent on commercial gain, whatever the artistic cost whist for Eric a slew of personal problems and, one can only guess, a similar realisation about the quality of music, precipitated the mother of a lost weekend.
What was really frustrating about this Armani and Versace period was that Clapton never actually lost it. Sure the major tours seemed to be done on auto pilot, the faithful waiting for a chorus or two that would ignite as in days gone by, and the albums were by and large over produced twaddle but, if you were lucky enough to catch the man playing a one off gig with all the attendant commercial pressure binned for the night his eloquence with six strings was clearly undimmed. What was also undimmed, as has become clear during interviews about this new album, was his love of the blues and his enduring devotion to the small - 29 songs only - catalogue of the mythic bluesman Robert Johnson; he of the devil deal and early death.
So, whilst Clapton has recorded Johnson before, notably the overwrought if hugely influential Cream reading of Crossroads, the idea of making a full album of his songs was a natural. It was also something he'd avoided until now sensing that only now did he have the depth of life to make it possible to inhabit the songs properly. Of course any artist can, and will, talk up any new product in such terms and the cynic could easily see Eric Clapton recording an album of Robert Johnson's songs as the perfect tribute concept. After all a back to the roots set has been the saviour of many a fading legend. (Would it be impertinent to wag fingers at recently themed sets from Aerosmith and John Mellencamp, good as they are?) Clapton could have phoned in such an album and the core audience in league with and equally uninformed media would have lapped it up.
But it didn't happen that way. And it shows. Seems that mired down in sessions for a new album Eric and his band decided to have a crack at a couple of Johnson songs as a diversion. The results were good and this album grew quickly out of the enthusiasm generated. The result is really good; an absolute joy in fact. It sounds like a band having a great time playing with and for one another. Listen carefully and you can hear Eric calling on band members to solo suggesting that the spontaneity you hear is genuine. Certainly it sounds like it; the band swings, there's a palpable sense of enjoyment and the playing is great. There are no prolonged solos, everyone says what they have to concisely and clearly and whether it's Billy Preston's keyboards - his piano and Hammond work is spot on - the second guitar of Doyle Bramhall or Jerry Portnoy's harmonica there are no wasted notes.
And don't think of the blues in cliché terms for whilst Little Queen Of Spades, Milkcow's Calf Blues, Come On In My Kitchen and Love In Vain fit there, They're Red Hot, Last Fair Deal Gone Down and If I Had Possession Over Judgment Day are rollicking, almost vaudeville pieces that were, by all accounts, staples of bluesmen like Johnson who were, after all, pub entertainers of the day.
So, even though he's blissfully unaware of it, me'n'Eric have shared a somewhat up and down forty years or so; some great moments and some, sadly, crap. Happily this is amongst the very best. An essential album.
www.ericclapton.comSteve Morris
Recorded following chemotherapy treatment for cancer, Clark's voice sometimes betrays the effects of his illness and treatment, lacking some of the dusty resonance of his earlier work, occasionally sounding drained of energy. That said, paradoxically the weariness also brings strength to numbers such as Walking Man's tribute to Guthrie, Chuck Berry and Gandhi and the difference they made, Magdalene's plea from a tired man to his girl to move to Mexico, Funny Bone's sad lament for a former rodeo clown and Out In The Parking Lot snapshot of drunks outside the barroom, a song that's stained with the sadness of people drowning their desperations.
There's a fine cover wistful Townes Van Zandt's No Lonesome Tune while more uptempo moments rise up on a funky country swinging Tornado Time In Texas, Analog Girl's TexMex flavoured tale of defiant refusal to join the techno revolution, and the fiddle flashing dance tune Expose, all prime examples of the craftsmanship Clark always brings to the table. He made his name 20 odd years ago with classics like LA Freeway, Desperadoes Waiting For A Train and Last Gunfighter Ballad; it's good to hear he's still coming up with material of the same calibre.
Mike Davies September 2007
Guy Clark - The Dark (Sugar Hill)
Call it roots, call it Americana, call it folk-country, whatever tag you put on the music Clark is one of its greatest storytellers. From the days of L.A. Freeway on he's been crafting memorable images of Texas lives fighting against the odds, travelling unknown dusty roads, sometimes losing, sometimes brought down by a mess of hurt, sometimes just revelling in the joy of home grown tomatoes. His characters have the stains of the world upon their skin, etched on their faces and in their hearts, his songs have the smell of jasmine nights, of rotting cactus, of an unfaithful woman's perfume, a cheating man's whisky lies, they are full of the sounds of lonesome train whistles, of car tyres squealing on hot tarmac, of rain beating on battered farm windows. They are the American experience.
His latest collection features some of the finest stories is told in recent years, opening fittingly enough with Mud, his answer to the dust to dust imagery of this mortal coil and a reminder that you need to get it between your toes and on your shirt before you return to that swamp. Arizona Star, which features Gillian Welch and David Rawlings on harmony, recalls a real Nashville character from the 70s, a 'pre-Madonna primadonna part time southern belle'. It's not a narrative but the pictures it paints allows you to write a novel of your own.
Magnolia Wind and Soldier's Joy, 1864 are co-written with Shawn Camp and evolved from Sis Draper on Cold Dog Soup, drawing on characters from that song and giving them extended lives of their own. The former is sung by one of fiddle player Sis's ex lovers while the latter casts its tale back a to her great-great grandfather who, having lost a less in the Civil War was left unable to dance so too up the fiddle and passed his skill down the generations.
Dancing figures again on Dancin' Days, a simple, dobro coloured happy-sad song Clark describes as an unintended sequel to She Ain't Going Nowhere from Old No 1, another of his snapshots of free-spirited independent women throwing their hair to the wind and whatever else the world throws at them. Like the character in She Loves To Ride Horses, you can love them but you can't tie them down.
Clark's women seem to embody resilience and optimism. Even Betty in Homeless, who may live with the bums, whores and abused who carry cardboard signs that says Friend for Life 25c but she still says 'hey it could be rainin''
Unlike the women, the men featured here seem bowed down by the years. In Off The Map, a lazy rolling country blues, a guy pulls in to a two pump gas station, pours a drink and sits back as the rain falls to think back on how he managed to drive off life's map and never wakes up again. In Bag of Bones, a Bay of Pigs veteran talks of his spark and spirit being trapped inside a crumbling body. In Queenie's Song some SOB even shoots the guy's dog!
And yet, in the darkness there is light. A spiritual healing away from the wounds of the day. Appropriately the album ends with the title track, a snapshot of night under Texan skies, of fireflies, of campfires, of the quiet when you can hear your heart beat, of the calm that renews, of the magic hour when it's so dark the sky's on fire and 'you can see Ft Worth from here.' Wonderful stuff.
PS: Further to Clark's vow to include a track by his great friend, the late Townes Van Zandt, on every album until he dies, this time round he's covered Rex's Blues.
Mike Davies
Allan Clarke - Headroom/ I've Got Time (BGO Records)
Allan's widely acknowledged as one of the great pop voices and best known as lead singer with the Hollies back in the 60s. His ambitions to make it outside of the group context (having enviously observed the success Graham Nash had achieved with CSN on leaving the group a year or so earlier), fuelled his decision to quit the band and take the chance by going solo. After an intermittently intriguing LP for RCA (My Real Name Is 'arold, itself surely deserving of CD reissue right now), the chief strength of which was Allan's knack for discovering material from writers about to make a name for themselves, Allan signed to EMI for three solo albums, which form the basis of this BGO reissue.
Headroom, issued in July 1973, was in retrospect too classy for its time, and did not sell especially well, but it stands up now as arguably one of the finest British pop albums of the time. It contained an expansive reworking of the old Hollies (Butterfly) album track Would You Believe, but in all other respects was determinedly contemporary in feel, with tough and muscular instrumental work allied to trademark Clarke vocals (often doubletracked to compensate for the lack of Hollies harmonies!) in arrangements that ranged from the outright vigorous to swooping late-Beatlesque. An atmospheric yet clear-sighted production was the key, and most of the tracks were a highlight in some way or other; small wonder that the moody Who? and the delicate I Look In Your Eyes were selected for release as a single - but the public inexplicably didn't want to know - their loss, I say!…
After Headroom, Allan was persuaded to rejoin the Hollies for a while, and a couple of big hits ensued, after which Allan found time to make his third, eponymous, solo album. Produced by Roger Cook and featuring top sessioners Herbie Flowers, Ray Glynn and Tony Newman, it was an impressive, hook-laden effort that demonstrated Allan's vocal versatility as much as showcasing some great songs, and proved that Allan could handle ballads and rockers with equal conviction (not a common combination in 70s vocalists!). Allan Clarke is notable for including the very first cover version of a Springsteen song (If I Were A Priest, taken from Bruce's 1972 demo tape for Columbia Records!), which predates his cover of Born To Run - another "should've made it but didn't" moment, that along with its B-side (Why Don't You Call?) is included on this reissue for good measure. Allan's next solo album, I've Got Time, boasted an even bigger cast list, horn and string arrangements and all, but to my mind its disco-friendly blandness (after all, it was made for the American market) and its winsome and boring choice of material (including chart fodder like Hallelujah Freedom and If You Think You Know How To Love Me) makes it almost entirely forgettable and to my mind unworthy of Allan's talents; perhaps its only redeeming feature is a fine cover of Springsteen's Blinded By The Light (which, true to form, was deemed insufficiently commercial for single release - and we all know what happened!…). So, denied the chart success he undoubtedly deserved and beset by a run of bad luck as regards commercial acclaim, Allan returned sporadically to the Hollies (although he did record a further two solo albums in America in the late 70s), surviving there till his retirement from music in 2000. So, despite the inevitable longueurs of I've Got Time, this BGO anthology is an essential complement to your Hollies collection. Just luxuriate in that powerful and distinctive voice!
David Kidman
Anthony John Clarke - Sing A Chorus With Me?: The Very Best Of Anthony John Clarke (Osmosys)
Even on what's loosely called the folk circuit (where you're most likely to find him touring), the "quiet Irishman" Anthony John Clarke may not be such a well-known name in comparison with, say, Christy Moore, but some of his songs may be familiar through cover versions. But in truth, Anthony has a definite claim to a place among the top singer-songwriters in the country – one I don't think I'd dispute. The title of this retrospective sampler collection is quite appropriate too, for his songs are so catchy that you find yourself singing along with his choruses before you even realise that they've got you hooked! The fourteen tracks on this sensible collection have been taken almost equal-handedly from Anthony's four currently available CDs (the exception being A Sideways Glance, which only gets one track represented here). The actual choice of songs has been made by some of Anthony's most loyal supporters, so it goes without saying that it's a sound one! During the course of the CD's well-filled 64 minutes we're presented with classics like Tuesday Night Is Always Karaoke, The Wrong Way Round, If I'd Only Learned To Dance and Irish Eyes - and if this is your first encounter with the latter, you're in for a real treat! Right from the opening touching tale of The Only Life Gloria Knows on in, you find that Anthony's songs are unassuming little observational gems every one, characterised by a quiet yet knowing sense of humour and a gift for simply yet evocatively expressing the life experiences, loves and aspirations of "ordinary folk" like you and me whose lives might otherwise be seen as unexceptional or undramatic. Some address "the Irish questions", sure, but honestly, poignantly and unsentimentally. Often tinged with a regret or reflective nostalgia that's informed by those experiences, Anthony's songs are refreshingly unpretentious and communicate immediately with the listener through an accessible and entertaining musical language that sometimes pays direct and affectionate homage to other musical traditions from folk to rock'n'roll (though without descending into parody). At times there's a feeling for the picaresque, akin perhaps to Colum Sands. And Anthony's keen facility with words on the quick-fire patter songs like One Night Stand is pretty astounding; moreover, he's not averse to taking a quirkily laconic look at his own craft either - as the nifty Smooth Old Talk demonstrates! We laugh and cry along with AJ, sharing our common experiences and identifying with his recounting of our stories and those of his (and life's) characters. It's also a measure of Anthony's communicative power that his voice and his songs shine through some often quite intricate musical settings (although IMHO there's just a touch of over-production on a very few of the tracks). Try to catch him live for an even more immediate experience of course, but if you can't manage that then do take this chance to get to know AJ's fine songs.
David Kidman
It's been a long six years since Clarke's last studio album, Green Voodoo, so the end of the drought is made doubly sweet by the fact he's releasing not one but two new collections. Actually recorded back in 2004, Night Ride To Birmingham finds him reunited with Wes McGhee for what's essentially an album of homages to musical heroes and the linked memories. Opening with the rockabilly chugging Me And Johnny Burnette, it's an honest, unfussy, beautifully played gathering of rock n roll, border country ballads, swing and classic pop as the ghosts of Gene Vincent, Elvis, Bonnie Owens, Laura Nyro and even Maria Callas gather round the jukebox.
Some numbers, such as Margaret & 'The Wayward Wind' and Maria (recalling the opera diva by way of a TexMex melody seems inspired to me) stem from childhood musical memories while the title track pays tribute to Johnny Cash, the man who inspired him to become a singer-songwriter. Others have different sources.
Delivered in a familiar chugging train rhythm, John Lennon & Johnny Cash recounts a possible meeting between the two legends as conceived in a Rosanne Cash short story, the blues rocking Blind Tom In Hoboken sketches a portrait of the little known bluesman while both The Last Days of Tampa Red and Degas In New Orleans are factional story songs co-penned with Ronny Elliott. And, because, few could say it better, his doff of the cap to Presley comes courtesy of a cover of Gillian Welch's tremendous Elvis Presley Blues. She should be honoured.
The second disc is the result of a gig he, McGhee and Elliott played in 2005 at the Lighthouse at Dunnet Head in Caithness. Inspired by the landscape and having forged a friendship with John Sutherland and his son Isaac who run the venue and recording studio, he returned the following year to start recording the material that now surfaces here.
A collection of 14 songs, some previously unrecorded, some new, it's vintage Clarke with its cocktail of Celtic and Emerald country, Cash-influenced rockabilly, Texicali balladeering and mist-infused folk. Once again there's tributes, homages and references; Glasgow Girl a bouncy tale of a local lass falling for a Memphis Boy, Go 'long Lonnie dedicated to Lonnie Donegan, while Loch Carron is a moving elegy to his late father.
The wildness of Caithness and Scotland itself inspires several tracks, from the opening self-explanatory snapshot of Caithness through images of sitting on the sea wall eating Clementines to the aural landscapes of Going Down To Campbelltown where the spirit of Van Morrison rears its head. And, in pleasingly contrasting stories, Kodiak is based on the family letters of a Caithness native whose relative took wing to Alaska while Sam Martinez sings the tale of a man from British Honduras and his family who came to settle in the north of Scotland.
'I sing these songs of love and loose change' he sings on the title song, you really should spare him some of both.
www.myspace.com/terryclarke
www.terryclarke.com
Mike Davies January 2008
Terry Clarke - Green Voodoo (Catfish Records)
It's been some time since I last heard from Clarke whose earlier albums, The Shelly River in particular, occupy a special place in my roots collection with his recollections of growing up in England and Ireland.
Although Appaloosa released Sound of the Moon last year, this is his first new material since signing to Catfish (who recently reissued Shelly River) and while recorded in Austin with more of a Texas production inclination, again finds him in reflective Gaelic mood, bending his increasingly throaty warble to celebrations of his homeland and the memories it holds on songs like the Van Morrison-esque title track (his answer to Into The Mystic?), Maureen's Irish Blues, Goin' Back To Belfast, Angel In Ireland (on which Rosie Flores contributes harmony), and the uptempo soul-rocking My Irish Soul Wants You.
I could live without The Mayo Mambo which really does live down to its title, but settle back and let the rolling joyful reverie that is The New Sugaree (dedicated to the late Fred Neil) wash over you, steep yourself in the Wild Honey Blues and feel the emotions well up as he sings Manhattan Blues, a post 9/11 tribute the Irish-Americans who built this city and whose descendants died (royalties to the NY Police & Fire Widow's & Children's Benefit Fund) to protect it.
Mike Davies
Terry Clarke - The Shelly River (Catfish Records)
It's seemingly taken a little direct action by the artiste to get this 1991 set back on the shelves. Mired in the contractual uncertainty of past deals it's my understanding that this release has been done on a get it out and suffer the consequences basis. Let's praise the cavaliers involved as this album, one of the very best of the past twenty years - really - more than deserves mass availability.
It's the album on which Reading's Terry Clarke, generally unheralded national treasure and cult artiste in Austin, Texas, found his true voice. Previously his stock in trade was a kind of high grade Americana, beautifully constructed paeans to a culture he was a keen observer of rather than one he was born of. That said it's also clear that Terry was a good half decade ahead (and a head and shoulders taller than many) of the glut of alt country minstrels currently harvesting plaudits. For The Shelly River the songs came not from observations, not from emotional jolts but from the blood. Or rather bloodline, Terry's father was an Irish emigrant to England.
In his sleeve notes Clarke writes of his father's walking the roads looking for work in situations as far apart as winter cold Lincolnshire fields and excavating the London underground. It's the tales these experiences sired, and the strength of Clarke's heritage that power the songs. Songs that touch every facet of the Irish / Celtic experience, the unique, inexplicable culture that travels so well - "they say that when you cross the equator they dip you in a tub of brine / What happens in the ether when you cross that Celtic line" (Johnnie's On The Road). And what songs they are; Sligo Honeymoon 1946's vivid picture of his parents, American Lipstick with its potent, prosaic contrast of the experiences of Irish who settled in Detroit and those who remained, and the longing the links them "when he left here he smoked Sweet Afton, now he smokes Lucky Strike but if he walked in here he could smoke anything he liked" whilst Detroit To Dingle's adroit examination of the pull of 'home' on Irish Americans and the legacy of its religious traditions telling. But picking out songs like this is to miss the point; each of The Shelly River's fifteen gems is a treasure of acute observation, crafted with a fine writer's care and set to melodies you'll never shake. Terry's made a good half dozen albums since this and is presently preparing another, none are easy to find though his website might help when it's fully up and running, but this is without any doubt the desert island choice.
Steve Morris
Neville's a Tyneside council-estate dweller who's been playing solo gigs with his trusty 12-string acoustic since 1995, plying his trade as a singer-songwriter. His second album, Not It, carried the endorsement of Kathryn Williams, who guested on a couple of tracks; Neville repaid the compliment by opening for her on one of her fairly recent tours. His third album, Pearshaped, recorded just over two years ago but only recently surfacing in my review pile, builds on the promising impression set by Not It with a new (and proudly brief - "fit onto one side of a C90") collection of eleven songs on which the sound of his own voice and guitar is boosted in an attractively DIY-indie way by the musicianship of Phil Tyler (drums, fiddle), Jon Lee (pedal steel) and Richard Dawson (jaw harp) and some very occasional vocal contributions from other parties. The title track leads off the CD with what appears to be a nice Chris Smither-style country-blues groove (though Neville's lyrics ain't!), then Staff Room is an observant, quietly cynical little portrait of a female teacher. Your Dad Sells Lighters is a carefree little romp on which a slightly dodgy would-be-rockabilly guitar part is played with a gleeful who-gives-a-damn apparent carelessness that ideally matches the knowing small-time realism of the lyric. Call Centre's rippling guitar trips over itself in an effort to convince, just as your very own Jobseekers' Advisor attempts to convince you that working there's just the job for you! Serendipity is a strangely melodic expression of a philosophical conundrum that says a lot in rather few words. The jubilant Geordie-hoedown setting of Scratchcard mirrors the told-you-so comic resignation of the lyric. Rollover even incorporates a kinda cheeky nod to Hank Williams in recounting a suitably lonesome Newcastle canvas. I do like Neville's wittily expressed takes on everyday lives and foibles and his unassuming ability to convey contradictory emotions; his defiant so-what stance is that of the true "talented amateur", and in the end his music's all the more appealing for that. And as before with Neville, you get the lyrics (well, most of 'em anyway) in the booklet (in prose form).
David Kidman
Otis Clay - In The House (Crosscut Records)
He chooses his covers quite well and Kris Kristofferson's For The Good Times is treated to a slower than normal pace and Clay's silky voice washes over you. I Can Take You To Heaven Tonight is quite a boast and there are some of you that will reach that lofty elevation by way of this mellow song in the classic R&B/Soul mould. You are more likely to be taken to the heavens on Amen/This Little Light Of Mine. Otis's voice can take you from the bottom to the top in one swift move and Sharrie Williams lends her not inconsiderable vocal talents as well. Love & Happiness is an Al Green song and Otis was a contemporary. His voice is still as silky as it was at the start of the album and there is a certain power in it that is difficult to quantify. Otis, like many other blues and soul singers, has his roots in gospel and I Just Wanna Testify is an example of this and he continues this into Respect Yourself, which he dedicates to Pop Staples and shows his class to the end. Otis Clay has had his ups and his downs and his career needs no discussion here. Just take him as he is, quite simply a master of his art.
David Blue
Now this is a really strange one. An uncompromising battery of sound assaults you as soon as the CD hits the player: Back Off Turkey is a clattering, clashing cacophony with well-nigh unintelligible, menacing growling vocals, ultra-funky skittering bass, glittering cymbals, busy drumming ... Track 2 (One Better) goes with its name and struts it all up even more, with a cheeky, almost irreverent horn riff and cool skeletal marimba, all wrapped (or should I say warped?!) around a vocal line that seem to cross the menace of Dr John in voodoo mode with the most streetwise funk imaginable. Brilliantly aggressive, this is music you just can't ignore - and nor do I wish to. Right in yer face, but intensely invigorating, no mistake. Lust Strings revolves around a cumbersome, heavy Beefheartian riff and shrill bass-sax noises and plays with the contrast between Plantesque and Beefheartian vocal acrobatics at either end of the register. Phantom Patriot brings together Zoot Horn Rollo and grandiose quasi-operatic chanting to a pounding funk beat of the kind you might've encountered on a mid-period Zappa album. Iowan Gal is an irresistibly catchy number that marries tongue-twisting hoedown-chic with a pulsating dance beat. There's even stranger gargling Freak Out weirdness on the pithy Robot Chicken, then the dulcet tones of a sitar (played by Gabby La La) come into the foreground on Filipino Ray and Vernon The Company Man, and Les gets strong support elsewhere from his other band members too: Skerik (sax) and Mike Dillon (percussion). They sure blow up a storm on cuts like Nothing Ventured and Rumble Of The Diesel! I've not encountered Les before, but it turns out he's "bass-playing mainstay with Primus" and has collaborated with Tom Waits and Stewart Copeland among others. No surprise there maybe, for it's a multi-layered, truly creative and free-thinking work, one of real imagination and tremendously diverse inspiration. I've played this album many many times now and I still can't quite figure what's going on in there at times, but I sure like it, a lot. It's pretty unique. And cranked up real loud, this is specially fantastic listening.
David Kidman October 2006
With a no-nonsense "Right, here we go", Vikki Clayton sets off on her long overdue first live recording. It's been a long time coming but proves to have been worth the wait, displaying, as it does, the lady's skills, wit and charm over its 57 minutes' playing time. Recorded at a specially arranged gig at The Musician, in Leicester, she has said that she'd never been so nervous before taking the stage. Any butterflies she may have been feeling obviously failed to flutter into life, however, possibly aided by the muscular strumming that ushers in The messenger after her brief, four-word introduction. It's a good opening track, immediately grabbing the attention with its forceful melody and memorable chorus. If anything, her guitar playing has often been overlooked, sitting in the shadows of that for which she's best known, that great voice, and, on studio albums, surrounded by other instrumentation. Here, though, voice aside, there are no distractions and her prowess on six strings is in evidence across the album. From the strength of The messenger she slips easily into the fragile beauty of Beguiled on which her sure touch with the sensitive melody is quietly assured.
Clayton is a ready raconteur on stage, and a perfect balance has been struck by producer Nick Watson who, in addition to achieving a warm, clear sound, has carefully edited her sometimes rambling (yet always entertaining) song introductions to a brevity more suited to a recording on which repeated plays could see them lose their charm. An ironic smile is won with her intro to Shackleton's song" when she says: "It seems to be very fashionable to do anything connected with Earnest Shackleton at the moment and I've always been in the fast lane, as you all know". She wins further brownie points with this reviewer when she goes on to describe the Polar explorer as an amazing bloke - nice to hear somebody not giving in to the pervasive use of the word "guy". Got her feet on t'ground, 'as our Vikki. Snakebite could become Clayton's "You're so vain" with her admission that it was inspired by her loathing of somebody with whom she once had to work. It, inevitably, has the listener trying to guess the identity of her victim. The lyric has venom aplenty: "You want the rings from my hand, you want the boys in the band, you wanna make a few grand without working, well, that's not working" - and she sings it with feeling.
Her oft-stated love of the work of the late Sandy Denny is given vent here with two of the former Fairport Convention vocalist's greatest songs. Anybody who's seen Clayton in concert will have had their spine tingled by her wonderful, unaccompanied singing of Denny's Rising for the moon. At last it's been caught on tape - and it sounds just as good as you remember it was on the night you saw her. As ever, with only her voice to hold them, she has the audience's complete attention as she makes the song her own. Anybody not knowing Clayton would surely be instantly won over on hearing this magical rendition. And she pulls the trick off again with, perhaps, Denny's best-known song, Who knows where the time goes. This time, backed with her guitar, she lends the poignant lyric an extra edge, with her own phrasing emphasising the song's emotions.
There's so much that's good about this album and I've not even touched on the aching beauty of Kisses in the dark, the sheer joy of These are my people or the unexpected pleasure of tripping across the pop classic Sweets for my sweet. If you're a Clayton fan, you'll love this album for its different takes on her songs. If you're not (yet) a Clayton fan, hear this and you will be. Guaranteed.
Fred Hall
Erstwhile Bonnie Raitt pianist, Jon Cleary also has a burgeoning solo career ably backed by the wonderfully named Absolute Monster Gentlemen. Cleary is much respected in blues, soul and funk circles and this live album confirms that status.
The smooth and funky Go To The Mardi Gras is an updated Professor Longhair song with a great bass line from Cornell Williams. Cleary has a silky voice that just oozes over you and the song is just simply New Orleans summed up in 6 and a half minutes. They step up the funk on People Say and provide ample vocal harmonies at the same time. Jon Cleary is, as we know, an excellent piano player and his tight band helps him to rip it up. Cleary introduces Eddie Christmas on drums and he is a newcomer with a big future as he shines on C'mon Second Line. This is funk and boogie-woogie of the highest order. I first heard Professor Longhair play Tipitina on the Live On The Queen Mary album and have been a fan of his ever since. Cleary's treatment of the song is more funky but manages to stick to the ethos of the Prof. Cheatin On You is so easy on the ear, as are most of his songs.
Port Street Blues is a slow and slinky barroom blues and Help Me Somebody is very soulful and understated. There is not a whisper in the crowd as Derwin Perkins plays a lovely solo on guitar. He does build things up toward the end of the solo and gets his much deserved praise. Groove Me has us back in the New Orleans groove again. Cleary's voice is like treacle and his fingers are as quick as Usain Bolt! When U Get Back features electric piano and is soul of the highest standard. This is music to get horizontal to and the jazzy interludes make it a true joy, overall. They finish with the title track and Cleary lets the band have a couple of minutes in the spotlight before he comes in with a grinding groove. Funk, soul, this has got the lot and his voice suits it to a tee. A star has certainly been found in the form of Eddie Christmas but Derwin 'Big D' Perkins on guitar and Cornell C. Williams on bass are big, big parts of this band too.
www.joncleary.com
www.myspace.com/joncleary
David Blue September 2008
[Ed: Check out the eponymous Jon Cleary & The Absolute Monster Gentlemen album from 2002. New Orleans based Cleary was in fact born and raised in UK and left for the Big Easy after graduating from Art School!)
David Kidman May 2009
I hate to admit it, but Unsung - tho' it may be an album of covers - is close on becoming one of my favourites among Slaid's albums. Not only does Slaid introduce me to a whole load of pretty fine songs I'd never come across before, but he instinctively brings his own stamp to them too. Although Slaid's included covers in his sets right from the very beginning of his career, it's taken him until now to pluck up the courage to record a whole album of covers. Now all too many artists use covers albums as a means of treading water between "real" albums, but this ain't the case here, no way. Perhaps in order to separate it from his other output, Slaid took time out from his regular producer Gurf Morlix and flew to Nashville to work on the project with Rod Picott (whom Slaid had first played alongside in a high-school garage band, and who'd latterly co-written some of Slaid's best-known songs including Broke Down and Sinner's Prayer). But no worries on any score either, cos Slaid's so talented an interpreter of the songs of others that clearly move him; here he introduces us to a host of powerful songs that don't deserve to languish in obscurity and remain unheard by anyone except for their writers. I was particularly taken with the way these songs fit so well into Slaid's own writing idiom; you can easily envisage Graham Weber's Oh Roberta or Chris Montgomery's Call It Sleep, say, cropping up in Slaid's own œuvre, so closely allied are they to his own writing idiom. There's also two songs by Slaid's long-time guitar accompanist Michael O'Connor (fittingly, Devil's Lullaby opens the album, with Getaway Car later leading effectively to the album's closer, JJ Baron's moving June Carter tribute sung to just a delicate autoharp backing). Karen Poston's Flowered Dresses, David Olney's Millionaire and Ana Egge's Fairest Of Them All provide further highlights of a set where there's truly no weak cut. Rod himself is heavily involved in the record as a musician too, and his cohorts include David Henry, Dave Jacques and Charles Arthur with a variety of different drummers, while backing vocalists include Mary Gauthier. Instrumentation's wonderfully varied too, much being made of sparse resources throughout. All credit to Slaid for chancing his arm on an album-full of covers, a gamble that's really paid off.
David Kidman Sept 2006
Slaid Cleaves - Wishbones (Philo)
Described as Loudon Wainwright fronting Wilco, the Austin based singer-songwriter also throws up such reference points as Dylan, Prine, Springsteen, Guthrie, Earle and Cash. He writes barroom stories about roads travelled, populated by dreamers and losers who don't know enough to lie down on the canvas, searching for or running from their hearts and souls. Four years back, Broke Down established him as a name with whom to reckon in the Texas troubador canon and he returns now, Gurf Morlix again at the helm, to consolidate matters with another sterling set of Lone Star beer stained barroom ballads and slap rhythm boogie.
Road Too Long is easily the weakest of the collection, its truck driving litany of the cost it exacts on a relationship too close to cliche, but it's the only time he falters as he spins his stories of getting by on getting by (a Prine-like weary Wishbones), seeking to rise above your faults (Drinkin' Days, the bluesy Rod Picott co-write Sinner's Prayer), the homes (physical and metaphorical) to which you can never go home again (Below's story of a village flooded in a dam project) and lives battered by life ( the mini-drama of Borderline that Tom Russell would have been proud to write, a cover of Picott's broken boxer saga Tiger Tom Dixon's Blues) and fate (the death of a jockey recalled in Quick As Dreams inspired by a chapter of Seabiscuit). But if there's loss and death, there's also the stoic determination to laugh at adversity (the Cash influenced Horses), and a refusal not to end on your knees, the album closing with the uptempo, fiddle fired fusion of Prine and Earle that is the jubilant New Year's Day where a dead man's friends and family raise a glass, sing a favourite song, eat lobsters and swim in Barton's Springs to celebrate the legacy and love he left behind. It may not be breaking new ground, but the earth it tills is rich and fertile indeed.
Mike Davies
Ginny Clee - Hold On Tight (Sore Thumb)
Taking advantage of an indefinite sabbatical brought about by fellow Dear Jane Babs Marsh finding the man of her dreams, in tandem with writing partner Pete Smith Clee's put together this sturdily impressive album to explore and satisfy long simmering solo urges. Though fans of the band will feel readily at home with things like the huskily gorgeous chanson Lament and quirky love song Love Drain, there's places here that'll have them checking the musical compass.
Touch, for example, is a full on clanking but far sexier excursion into Tom Waits swordfishtrombones territory swiftly followed by the brushed nakedness and early hours limped languor of All That Matters, a go with the flow all whistle and bells Gotta Do with its African tribal gospel mood, the flute flavoured bluesy rumble and throatiness of her cover of Blind Willie Johnson's You Don't Ever Change and, just to keep radio programmers on their toes, the resigned bruised heart country strummer C'Est La Fucking Vie!
And the album could cost twice and much and it would still be worth it just to hear Sam, a wonderful Marianne Faithful meets Donovan folk n country slow waltzer portrait of a 17 year old "a cross between God and a scarecrow..lost in growing up dreams'. Much an admirer of the Dear Janes as I am, listening to this I feel I really must wish Babs a long and happy romance.
Mike Davies
Tom Clelland - Life Goes On (Whistleberry)
Tom's debut CD Little Stories appeared around four years ago on Shoeshine Records' Spit & Polish imprint, and I recall it as a fine collection showing more than just initial promise from this East Lothian singer and songwriter. Where had he been prior to that? I asked myself - probably listening to such country-roots greats as Guy Clark and John Prine (by whom he's obviously been influenced, but not derivatively so). But amazingly, even now, his songwriting CV only stretches back a mere six years! Little Stories was good, very good in fact, and I've found myself returning to key tracks quite often, but Life Goes On is significan