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| Track list: 1. Streets of London - Ralph McTell 2. Colours - Donovan 3. Light Flight (Take Three Girls Theme) - Pentangle 4. Needle of Death - Bert Jansch 5. Her Father Didn't Like Me Anyway - The Humblebums 6. Mirrors - Sally Oldfield 7. Candy Man - John Renbourn 8. The Times They Are A-Changin' - The Ian Campbell Folk Group 9. I'm So Confused - Mick Softly 10. Boadicea - Dave Swarbrick 11. Both Sides Now - The Johnstons 12. The Alchemist and the Pedler - Dransfield 13. Bright Phoebus - Mike and Lal Waterson 14. Timeless and Strange - Keith Christmas 15. Stargazer - Shelagh McDonald 16. Breakdown of the Song - Decameron 17. When I Was on Horseback - Steeleye Span 18. Fiddler's Green - Tim Hart & Maddy Prior 19. Mary Skeffington - Gerry Rafferty 20. Matty Groves - Fairport Convention Released: 1995 Running time: 79 minutes |
What to say about this? It was probably a mistake, a quick unthinking purchase when I first realised I was getting into folk. It certainly feels that 1995 should be more like 1975 in terms of release and that this represents as much of what was wrong with folk music than what is right about it but we'll see. I recognise a few of the performers and a couple of the songs. Will this turn into the rag on cluelessness hour?
We open with Streets of London, a classic of sorts. Actually not a bad song, but I cannot hear it without thinking of a Big Train sketch where McTell is forced to just repeat it over and over as none of his audience know anything else. Video embedded below. That rather makes it a throwaway, pleasant roll that brings a wry amusement. it is not a song that grabs me and demands full attention, promising great reward.
Donovan. The name is synonymous with the less than enlightened folk that the filled wilderness years before the revival of the 00s that persists to date. I have never heard him before other than perhaps on Top of the Pops 2 with some shoddy faux-comedic captioning. I am not impressed. I will state now that I am sure my prejudicial attitude to this material will colour this listen, but I am not going to apologise for that.
The Pentangle track starts as a mess but improves when the vocal joins in, despite its rather airy tone it seems to bind the disparate threads of the music together. There are bits and pieces of interest in the composition but as a whole it falls flat for me. Ah, that is a bit better. Bert Jansch has a (very) little of Nick Drake about him, as much in the intonation as anything else. Not the voice or the delivery as a whole, but the cadence on certain words matches my metal recollection of Drake here and there. Alas it is nowhere near as enduring, and as the song wears on the performance starts to grate a little. The picked guitar is repetitive to a significant degree and the singing voice is harsher than I would like and I find myself happier once it ends.
That is not to say what starts next impresses immediately. It has that same comfortable impression: aiming to, and hitting, a very specific but very bland note. It tries to dispel this thought by the inclusion of brass and/or woodwind - which works to a point - but I find this uninspired TV theme tune music, as if it is aiming for the lowest common denominator of "not disagreeable" rather than shooting to impress.
If it weren't for the sleigh-bells and a horridly warbling vocal, Mirrors might have been interesting. That vocal is worse for the effect of the recording, self-echo or something. The rhythm here is more interesting, a little Latin in places, even, but there is no redeeming the bells. Ugh.
Candyman returns to a picked guitar and vocal - it is precisely the kind of blind Dylan-copy I expected to find on this disc. All the same idea, but with none of the craft or genre-defining pioneering, which makes it apt that the next track is a cover of The Times They Are A-Changin' that, by introducing a pretty bad harmony, hand-bells and a depth of accompaniment that overpowers the melody makes for a horrid experience. It is not even that I hold Dylan on a pedestal; I have a little, not much. This though? This is travesty. Of music. How it got on to any "best" anything is beyond me.
Almost half way through in terms of tracks, but alas not close for time. Yes, I am wishing it were over already. My evening plans broke down last minute, which is where I found the time to do this listen, started on impulse when I knew I wouldn't be going out. I have, again, been neglecting my self-imposed workload in favour of simple recovery or being busy. I'm So Confused drifts by almost unnoticed, and then we hit a fiddle tune, Boadicea. This I like more and could see myself not skipping if it came up in a shuffle. It has enough of a tune that I can excuse the somewhat out-of-place electric bass, the little loopy "pause" being particularly effective for my taste. Glad this hasn't been a total waste of time, then!
It's funny that the "Best of British Folk" involves covers of notable people from across the Atlantic, eh? First Dylan, now Joni Mitchell. I figured this for a cover when I heard it start, but wouldn't have known of whom without Google - though I do apparently have another version of this song on Herbie Hancock's tribute, River. It isn't amongst the couple of Mitchell albums I have though. It breezes by, nothing noteworthy beyond its obvious non-traditional provenance.
We are back to quintessentially English folk-rock blahdom with Dransfield though. Straight out of the inoffensive middle of the road blandness that characterised a decade or two of "folk" on these shores. Twee guitar riff, boring rhythm, darkness-infused vocal that is occasionally used to add dramatic stress (or rather fail to). This is symptomatic of why folk fell out of fashion, obliterated by more energetic and inspiring performances in other fields. Seven and a half minutes of dreary droning, its enough to drive me to drink. Thankfully I picked up some Hoegaarden in my monthly shop on the way home, so that isn't all bad!
With the Watersons I am on more familiar ground, but ground I tread warily. I both recognise their role in preserving British folk traditions and indirectly helping forge the revival and find myself not really liking their work a lot of the time. I have more than a couple of albums by, or inspired by them though so Waterson is a name that will appear again on these pages.
Honestly, what kind of name is Keith Christmas? One associated with blandness and very stereotypical delivery that completely conjures the beardy weirdy freak image of 70s folk, detached from the real world rather than rooted in it, even when spinning tales of the fantastic. If you can't tell, I don't much like Timeless and Strange - the title is the least boring thing about it, and even that is awful. Timeless this isn't; Forgettable and Bland would be a more apt name. Musically, Stargazer is similarly uninspiring. Vocally it is the most interesting thing thus far on the disc and pleasant enough to override my initial detachment with the arrangement. There are echoes of Mitchell, or perhaps some other luminary I cannot place here too in the first half of the track. Alas the second half is completely devoid of interest as the vocal dies out and is replaced by some chanting that is background to the still uninspired tune. I got my hopes up for a second there; lesson learned.
Oh dear, how totally... I have no words. Decameron's effort is a commentary on the music industry, a meta-song. It is also awful; it may be lyrically amusing in its effect but again it just smacks of blandness, lack of craft and turn up bash out musicianship.
Oh now, that's interesting. I am pretty sure I have heard these lyrics before in a different context, because I don't recognise When I Was On Horseback as performed here, or as a title. Steeleye Span, though... the name is very familiar. Memories of my dad's record collection - he's a big Fairport fan too; took my brother and I to Cropredy, along with some Greek guests, almost 20 years back now; a better experience than you might think based on my notes here! Anyhow, I don't think much of this piece, but I found the familiarity of some of the lyrics interesting. Not too surprised though, folk songs are like that - the same song recorded with very different tunes and variable lyrics that overlap but don't mimic.
Nearing the end now, not much more to endure. I fist typed "enjoy" then, but that certainly wouldn't be accurate. I am more relaxed now than when I begun, so the exercise has not been in vain. It is one more album chalked off, and a bad, long one at that. The next disc has to be more promising, right? This ends up, predictably I guess, with Fairport Convention. I should be scathing as they are the epitome of the bland folk rock I despise... but, well. I think there is a mitigation: this whole genre was to some degree others copying them after their success. That said, I don't much like the song, the long lead out in particular. I end with this disc all but wiped out, only Boadicea and Streets of London kept. Onwards to better things I hope.
We open with Streets of London, a classic of sorts. Actually not a bad song, but I cannot hear it without thinking of a Big Train sketch where McTell is forced to just repeat it over and over as none of his audience know anything else. Video embedded below. That rather makes it a throwaway, pleasant roll that brings a wry amusement. it is not a song that grabs me and demands full attention, promising great reward.
Donovan. The name is synonymous with the less than enlightened folk that the filled wilderness years before the revival of the 00s that persists to date. I have never heard him before other than perhaps on Top of the Pops 2 with some shoddy faux-comedic captioning. I am not impressed. I will state now that I am sure my prejudicial attitude to this material will colour this listen, but I am not going to apologise for that.
The Pentangle track starts as a mess but improves when the vocal joins in, despite its rather airy tone it seems to bind the disparate threads of the music together. There are bits and pieces of interest in the composition but as a whole it falls flat for me. Ah, that is a bit better. Bert Jansch has a (very) little of Nick Drake about him, as much in the intonation as anything else. Not the voice or the delivery as a whole, but the cadence on certain words matches my metal recollection of Drake here and there. Alas it is nowhere near as enduring, and as the song wears on the performance starts to grate a little. The picked guitar is repetitive to a significant degree and the singing voice is harsher than I would like and I find myself happier once it ends.
That is not to say what starts next impresses immediately. It has that same comfortable impression: aiming to, and hitting, a very specific but very bland note. It tries to dispel this thought by the inclusion of brass and/or woodwind - which works to a point - but I find this uninspired TV theme tune music, as if it is aiming for the lowest common denominator of "not disagreeable" rather than shooting to impress.
If it weren't for the sleigh-bells and a horridly warbling vocal, Mirrors might have been interesting. That vocal is worse for the effect of the recording, self-echo or something. The rhythm here is more interesting, a little Latin in places, even, but there is no redeeming the bells. Ugh.
Big Train does Streets of London
Almost half way through in terms of tracks, but alas not close for time. Yes, I am wishing it were over already. My evening plans broke down last minute, which is where I found the time to do this listen, started on impulse when I knew I wouldn't be going out. I have, again, been neglecting my self-imposed workload in favour of simple recovery or being busy. I'm So Confused drifts by almost unnoticed, and then we hit a fiddle tune, Boadicea. This I like more and could see myself not skipping if it came up in a shuffle. It has enough of a tune that I can excuse the somewhat out-of-place electric bass, the little loopy "pause" being particularly effective for my taste. Glad this hasn't been a total waste of time, then!
It's funny that the "Best of British Folk" involves covers of notable people from across the Atlantic, eh? First Dylan, now Joni Mitchell. I figured this for a cover when I heard it start, but wouldn't have known of whom without Google - though I do apparently have another version of this song on Herbie Hancock's tribute, River. It isn't amongst the couple of Mitchell albums I have though. It breezes by, nothing noteworthy beyond its obvious non-traditional provenance.
We are back to quintessentially English folk-rock blahdom with Dransfield though. Straight out of the inoffensive middle of the road blandness that characterised a decade or two of "folk" on these shores. Twee guitar riff, boring rhythm, darkness-infused vocal that is occasionally used to add dramatic stress (or rather fail to). This is symptomatic of why folk fell out of fashion, obliterated by more energetic and inspiring performances in other fields. Seven and a half minutes of dreary droning, its enough to drive me to drink. Thankfully I picked up some Hoegaarden in my monthly shop on the way home, so that isn't all bad!
With the Watersons I am on more familiar ground, but ground I tread warily. I both recognise their role in preserving British folk traditions and indirectly helping forge the revival and find myself not really liking their work a lot of the time. I have more than a couple of albums by, or inspired by them though so Waterson is a name that will appear again on these pages.
Honestly, what kind of name is Keith Christmas? One associated with blandness and very stereotypical delivery that completely conjures the beardy weirdy freak image of 70s folk, detached from the real world rather than rooted in it, even when spinning tales of the fantastic. If you can't tell, I don't much like Timeless and Strange - the title is the least boring thing about it, and even that is awful. Timeless this isn't; Forgettable and Bland would be a more apt name. Musically, Stargazer is similarly uninspiring. Vocally it is the most interesting thing thus far on the disc and pleasant enough to override my initial detachment with the arrangement. There are echoes of Mitchell, or perhaps some other luminary I cannot place here too in the first half of the track. Alas the second half is completely devoid of interest as the vocal dies out and is replaced by some chanting that is background to the still uninspired tune. I got my hopes up for a second there; lesson learned.
Oh dear, how totally... I have no words. Decameron's effort is a commentary on the music industry, a meta-song. It is also awful; it may be lyrically amusing in its effect but again it just smacks of blandness, lack of craft and turn up bash out musicianship.
Oh now, that's interesting. I am pretty sure I have heard these lyrics before in a different context, because I don't recognise When I Was On Horseback as performed here, or as a title. Steeleye Span, though... the name is very familiar. Memories of my dad's record collection - he's a big Fairport fan too; took my brother and I to Cropredy, along with some Greek guests, almost 20 years back now; a better experience than you might think based on my notes here! Anyhow, I don't think much of this piece, but I found the familiarity of some of the lyrics interesting. Not too surprised though, folk songs are like that - the same song recorded with very different tunes and variable lyrics that overlap but don't mimic.
Nearing the end now, not much more to endure. I fist typed "enjoy" then, but that certainly wouldn't be accurate. I am more relaxed now than when I begun, so the exercise has not been in vain. It is one more album chalked off, and a bad, long one at that. The next disc has to be more promising, right? This ends up, predictably I guess, with Fairport Convention. I should be scathing as they are the epitome of the bland folk rock I despise... but, well. I think there is a mitigation: this whole genre was to some degree others copying them after their success. That said, I don't much like the song, the long lead out in particular. I end with this disc all but wiped out, only Boadicea and Streets of London kept. Onwards to better things I hope.
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