At Llangennith - Charlotte Greig

Track list:

1. At Llangennith
2. Willie O'Winsbury
3. That man
4. Free fall
5. Perfect wave
6. Walk on
7. The snows
8. Gotta get you home
9. Over the water
10. Leave it blue

Running time: 54 minutes
Released: 2001

Ah, an old favourite. Comfortable in the way only familiarity can be. This was a real punt in the dark when I bought it. It is a record for a winter's night, snug and warming. A real gem. It is so much a favourite that when I dragged it into "now playing" to see the running time when creating the header of this post immediately after finishing Astronomy for Dogs it tempted me in about 4 notes to run on and do the whole listen immediately.

A cooler head prevailed, and I then found out that Charlotte Greig passed away earlier this year from cancer. Now it is time to tell you why I love this so much and will forever be grateful for one of her creations.

From the gentle opening you get an immediate feel for this disc. Tendrils of soft sound wrap around you like a blanket, offering you cocoa in the bargain. The title track, which opens the disc, is a simple guitar melody, layered a little bit to make a deeper palette and a soft vocal. It is like sitting out on a starry night, looking up into the blackness above and wondering. It is no surprise that it struck the 20(some) year old me, prone to contemplation as I was (am). The main refrain is a strangely compelling one, and even though the song meanders a little towards the end of its run I still find it incredibly compelling.

Next up is a folk classic, which has just a perfect backing here - acoustic hook, haunting soundscape behind it - and is sung with a warmth that transfers fully to the listener. I lose myself if the natural roll of the delivery and the simple repetition of the structure - though it is crafted better than that, little touches abound that break up what could otherwise become monotonous so that each verse is accompanied by subtly different sounds.

In truth, these are the two stand out tracks, but they imprint the album in my mind so hard that everything that follows basks in their glow, then and still. That Man drops the guitar in favour of some keys to lead it and for once this does not work so well - the keyboard is a little too tinny - but the song itself is a simple little tune: rise, fall, rise, fall. A nice lilt that reinforces the sleepy idea of the blanket and hot chocolate. Free Fall brings back the strings and with it the easy, calm invitation that characterises the album as a whole. There is nothing overly complex here, fairly simple melodies, uncomplicated composition and musicianship... just somehow coming together in some kind of magic. In any tune of nearly 9 minutes length you would expect the odd dip, and they are here, for sure. I am more like to overlook the foibles of a record like this though, where the general tone and ambience are so inviting and welcome, like seeing an old friend.

I have a number of other albums by Charlotte Greig, they will turn up here eventually. None of them has ever caught me quite like this one though. Right album, right time of my life or something. I am sure that if I was hearing this for the first time now I would glaze over and miss the charm. It is not a modern album in any sense, and that is welcome. I get a very strong sense of it countering the immediacy of everyday modern life with deliberately slow pace and simple pleasantries. I enjoy it in that spirit, a rejection of fast pace and instant gratification.

Walk On brings back the keys as the primary tune-carrier and here it works better. A melancholic air stirs in me when I hear this tune - it is not a particularly nice narrative, but it is beautifully delivered. In a wise move there is a momentary silence after it ends before The Snows begins. This is a version of The Snow it Melts the Soonest - another folk staple, and one I like a lot. My favourite version (as I had cause to mention before) is by James Yorkston, but the song itself is a strong one, and this version is sufficiently different that it does not fall into the same problem that some others do of direct comparison. The playing here occasionally offers the impression of flickering firelight which keeps the winters night theme going nicely.  We then have a song that I really should not like, but do. Its a love song of a certain type that honestly I think only works in the context of the album as a whole - playing into the long dark night, the need for warmth and, well, companionship. You get the picture.

Over the Water is probably the weakest song on the album. For me it is a mood killer. The change of sound - to a harsher, twangier performance - is not a welcome one. The warmth is still there in the vocal - the style of delivery there is pretty consistent throughout and one of the strongest points of this record - but the music is more distant and less engaging as a result of the shift. The edge to the notes (I think from a dulcimer) is off-putting like nothing else on At Llangennith. Thankfully it is a one-song blip, and the easy roll and gentle strumming of Leave it Blue is a nice way to end the album. Just enough musical interest to keep your attention and the vocal - slightly more floaty than earlier tracks - as fitting as ever.

When I first bought this album I was surprised and enchanted. Coming back to it now I am reassured and contented. I was saddened last night, after I found out about Charlotte Greig's passing, and that was entirely down to my love for this work. Amongst the many things she created - she was a writer, too - I was only familiar with her music and really only with this record; At Llangennith's simple beauty is a worthy monument though.