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| Track list: 1. Roll Alabama 2. 10,000 Miles Away 3. Lillibulero 4. Betsy Baker 5. If You Will Not Have Me, You May Let Me Go 6. Jordan 7. Haul Away 8. Captain Wedderburn 9. What’s the Life of a Man? 10. Let Union Be 11. Whiskey Is the Life of Man 12. Fine Sally 13. Gosport Nancy 14. Parson’s Farewell 15. Roll the Woodpile Down Running time: 62 minutes Released: 2016 |
I should not really have bought this. I don't really need more versions of these tunes, and have seen all of them played live from time to time. However I figured that buying it would be convenient for the car - stuck as I am in the age of physical media. However I don't have the discs yet - so I have to deconstruct the single large track list from the download. It would have been a 2 hour listen without breaking it up and, much as I love them... finding that kind of time for a listen is simply not going to happen.
I have mentioned Bellowhead in several other posts, but not (quite) reached the first of their studio albums in my alphabetical run through yet. It's literally the next but one at time of composition... and there's a second due before B is done. This, then, jumps the queue - what with the title being something I'd have passed a while back. It also makes the next couple of weeks a bit folk packed.
We start with Roll Alabama, one off Revival. Its possibly one of my favoured songs from their late life as it espouses the themes that I most enjoy in Bellowhead songs. They can get quite raucous at times but I have always had a penchant for the tunes with a more melodic touch, soaring fiddles crafting a comfortable tune space and the other parts of this eleven-piece construction fitting within. As much as I love Bellowhead, I really had to force myself to sit here and listen tonight. I left Sunday on the basis that I had quiet evenings Monday and Wednesday to find the time for two. I missed Monday too, wrong headspace, and tonight my inclination is to curl up and piss away my time rather than apply it. Not sure why, just feeling listless. I am also finding it hard to find much to write here for some reason, actively steering away from discussing the tunes, and generally failing to produce. Maybe this is a fools errand.
Lillibulero is a tune I never really got on with, too much of the song consisting of repeating some iteration of the title loudly. It has some more accessible elements too but it is one of the blander songs for the nonsense chorus. I think I am also impatient for the next tune; Betsy Baker is one of those songs I fell in love with the first time I heard it and it employs Paul Sartin and his oboe is glorious fashion. The song itself is a little blah, but the melody behind the chorus is to die for, a lushly arranged effort with a floating tune and a strong body of sound supporting it. This recording doesn't do it justice though - the levels seem to take away from that oboe part which is where my ear is normally drawn. The whole song sounds very different actually - from both the album version on Broadside and from the umpteen times I have seen it live. It feels a little clipped and flat. The wonderful melody is still there but somehow the sound doesn't blossom in the same way it does if you are in the audience in person. I can't remember how many times I have seen these guys play but for the last few years they have, alas, been the only gigs I have got to - I don't have the right friends or the right tastes to get to see much; I went through a phase of going to things on my own a few years back, but it's not the same as with company, and certainly rules out longer journeys. I am sad about the split of the band - a couple of years after John Spiers and Jon Boden stopped touring as a duo too. It means still fewer gig opportunities, and removes a convenient method (and excuse) for keeping up with an old friend who I have only seen at gigs for a while now.
If You Will Not Have Me, You May Let Me Go is a spiky little jaunt, dance tunes being a large part of the repertoire. It makes me want to hop about like a madman, but I am both too uncoordinated and far too self aware to ever really let myself go there, even in a horde of folks doing the same thing. I always end up feeling quite alone in crowds for this reason. My connection with whatever thing the crowd is there for seems to manifest in a very different way to the norm. I find this quite sad, but even several years of loud and energetic folk gigs haven't stamped that feeling out of me. Jordan goes all the way back to Burlesque, which was my entry point to the band. I liked folk, I liked jazz - they were fusing them supposedly (or rather adding aspects of the latter to the former, with a horn section). I was hooked.
Haul Away is a staple of the live show, three tunes in one. The opening always sends shivers down my spine. Some of the songs they played a lot got old (Sloe Gin really got on my wick by the time they stopped doing it live) but this one is always a crowning moment, with a generous sing-along in the middle of two dance tunes. The first builds tension, released by the vocal, the second leads us out merrily. Here, too, the recording seems flat; I'm not sure if the acoustics were not great on the night, the post production is highlighting the "wrong" bits for my taste or what but there is a detachment, and a monotone to it. I guess I'm so used to being in an audience absorbing this that colours my perceptions, but I don't remember other versions of the tune being so lifeless. And it is not that the performance on the night was lifeless - I can hear them going for it as ever; I think it has to be in the recording, and the specific emphasis that was captured for this release.
Yeah, there's something flat here alright. Even on the "quiet" number of Captain Wedderburn, the tuneful chorus (the only bit of this song I really like) comes across poorly despite the absence of other sounds to compete with. The song also manages to suck out the rhythm I had got into with its more stately pace, and I feel disconnected from my activity once more. However this next tune is interesting. I don't recognise it by sound or by title... I don't think I've seen them play What's the Life of a Man? and clearly I have not listened to Broadside very much, for this comes from there. Of course, Bellowhead were never really about the albums. As much as I enjoyed Burlesque and the follow-up Matachin, the three that followed never saw much play as record does not match up to live. That is true in the case of most bands, but doubly so here. I'm in danger of writing the Broadside listen up here before I get to that, but that album in particular had a contrast between some very nice tunes (Betsy Baker) and really obnoxious discord (Black Beetle Pies) and so didn't warrant much listening in album form.
Let Union Be is a crowd participation number at live shows. I can still use the present tense as there are a handful more dates before they crown their career in Oxford next month... tickets were impossible to grab for that, alas. There was no preamble on this recording and no obvious sound from the audience on the first chorus, again leaving the impression that this recording is a little flat. I do hope the audience weren't tuned out in post production or asked not to sing along on the night... they are clearly audible in applause at the end of the song so I guess it was the latter.
I am finding this all a little surreal, it's like an out of body experience somehow. Vagary of recording or whatever other cause, the sense of detachment I have from the sound, amplified by the lack of depth conveyed on the tunes and my familiarity with most of the numbers in live performance... I feel like I am reliving a memory that I never had. I feel like I am watching my own view on TV. I feel... isolated. The discs arrived today; as well as 2 CDs the package offers a DVD and a booklet of photos of them performing from odd angles. It's quite a nice offering and I am not sorry I picked it up despite my growing ambivalence about the particular realisation of this recording.
In contrast to the middle part of the disc, which was packed with longer tunes, the songs are now flying by. Only a couple left, a tune then the big single. I have always had a soft spot for the dance tunes, because at their best they are all about melody. A strong theme and various movements around that offering support. They swell and subside in really nice and easy to relate to patterns, and you can let your ear latch on to the central strand and follow it to its conclusion. I find them great for stopping my head running away with other thoughts and almost inevitably end up smiling as they crescendo. Disc 1 ends with Roll the Woodpile Down, which again has a lovely melody from Sartin's reed. When those tones fly out over a string base I love Bellowhead more than ever. I missed that this was a huge hit because I don't listen to the radio, but seeing crowds lap it up over the past 4 years its hard to deny the appeal. I doubt that most people are drawn by the particular element that grabs me, but that's fine. I suspect I might be the odd one thinking the best thing in a folk arrangement is woodwind, but there we go. It gives a very definite end. In my experience it is rarely the tune to end on - disc two closes more as I would expect though.
So, a little flat compared to being there in person, but even flat Bellowhead are a treat greater than many. For another month or so until there is only this, and memory, to fall back on.
I have mentioned Bellowhead in several other posts, but not (quite) reached the first of their studio albums in my alphabetical run through yet. It's literally the next but one at time of composition... and there's a second due before B is done. This, then, jumps the queue - what with the title being something I'd have passed a while back. It also makes the next couple of weeks a bit folk packed.
We start with Roll Alabama, one off Revival. Its possibly one of my favoured songs from their late life as it espouses the themes that I most enjoy in Bellowhead songs. They can get quite raucous at times but I have always had a penchant for the tunes with a more melodic touch, soaring fiddles crafting a comfortable tune space and the other parts of this eleven-piece construction fitting within. As much as I love Bellowhead, I really had to force myself to sit here and listen tonight. I left Sunday on the basis that I had quiet evenings Monday and Wednesday to find the time for two. I missed Monday too, wrong headspace, and tonight my inclination is to curl up and piss away my time rather than apply it. Not sure why, just feeling listless. I am also finding it hard to find much to write here for some reason, actively steering away from discussing the tunes, and generally failing to produce. Maybe this is a fools errand.
Lillibulero is a tune I never really got on with, too much of the song consisting of repeating some iteration of the title loudly. It has some more accessible elements too but it is one of the blander songs for the nonsense chorus. I think I am also impatient for the next tune; Betsy Baker is one of those songs I fell in love with the first time I heard it and it employs Paul Sartin and his oboe is glorious fashion. The song itself is a little blah, but the melody behind the chorus is to die for, a lushly arranged effort with a floating tune and a strong body of sound supporting it. This recording doesn't do it justice though - the levels seem to take away from that oboe part which is where my ear is normally drawn. The whole song sounds very different actually - from both the album version on Broadside and from the umpteen times I have seen it live. It feels a little clipped and flat. The wonderful melody is still there but somehow the sound doesn't blossom in the same way it does if you are in the audience in person. I can't remember how many times I have seen these guys play but for the last few years they have, alas, been the only gigs I have got to - I don't have the right friends or the right tastes to get to see much; I went through a phase of going to things on my own a few years back, but it's not the same as with company, and certainly rules out longer journeys. I am sad about the split of the band - a couple of years after John Spiers and Jon Boden stopped touring as a duo too. It means still fewer gig opportunities, and removes a convenient method (and excuse) for keeping up with an old friend who I have only seen at gigs for a while now.
If You Will Not Have Me, You May Let Me Go is a spiky little jaunt, dance tunes being a large part of the repertoire. It makes me want to hop about like a madman, but I am both too uncoordinated and far too self aware to ever really let myself go there, even in a horde of folks doing the same thing. I always end up feeling quite alone in crowds for this reason. My connection with whatever thing the crowd is there for seems to manifest in a very different way to the norm. I find this quite sad, but even several years of loud and energetic folk gigs haven't stamped that feeling out of me. Jordan goes all the way back to Burlesque, which was my entry point to the band. I liked folk, I liked jazz - they were fusing them supposedly (or rather adding aspects of the latter to the former, with a horn section). I was hooked.
Haul Away is a staple of the live show, three tunes in one. The opening always sends shivers down my spine. Some of the songs they played a lot got old (Sloe Gin really got on my wick by the time they stopped doing it live) but this one is always a crowning moment, with a generous sing-along in the middle of two dance tunes. The first builds tension, released by the vocal, the second leads us out merrily. Here, too, the recording seems flat; I'm not sure if the acoustics were not great on the night, the post production is highlighting the "wrong" bits for my taste or what but there is a detachment, and a monotone to it. I guess I'm so used to being in an audience absorbing this that colours my perceptions, but I don't remember other versions of the tune being so lifeless. And it is not that the performance on the night was lifeless - I can hear them going for it as ever; I think it has to be in the recording, and the specific emphasis that was captured for this release.
Yeah, there's something flat here alright. Even on the "quiet" number of Captain Wedderburn, the tuneful chorus (the only bit of this song I really like) comes across poorly despite the absence of other sounds to compete with. The song also manages to suck out the rhythm I had got into with its more stately pace, and I feel disconnected from my activity once more. However this next tune is interesting. I don't recognise it by sound or by title... I don't think I've seen them play What's the Life of a Man? and clearly I have not listened to Broadside very much, for this comes from there. Of course, Bellowhead were never really about the albums. As much as I enjoyed Burlesque and the follow-up Matachin, the three that followed never saw much play as record does not match up to live. That is true in the case of most bands, but doubly so here. I'm in danger of writing the Broadside listen up here before I get to that, but that album in particular had a contrast between some very nice tunes (Betsy Baker) and really obnoxious discord (Black Beetle Pies) and so didn't warrant much listening in album form.
Let Union Be is a crowd participation number at live shows. I can still use the present tense as there are a handful more dates before they crown their career in Oxford next month... tickets were impossible to grab for that, alas. There was no preamble on this recording and no obvious sound from the audience on the first chorus, again leaving the impression that this recording is a little flat. I do hope the audience weren't tuned out in post production or asked not to sing along on the night... they are clearly audible in applause at the end of the song so I guess it was the latter.
I am finding this all a little surreal, it's like an out of body experience somehow. Vagary of recording or whatever other cause, the sense of detachment I have from the sound, amplified by the lack of depth conveyed on the tunes and my familiarity with most of the numbers in live performance... I feel like I am reliving a memory that I never had. I feel like I am watching my own view on TV. I feel... isolated. The discs arrived today; as well as 2 CDs the package offers a DVD and a booklet of photos of them performing from odd angles. It's quite a nice offering and I am not sorry I picked it up despite my growing ambivalence about the particular realisation of this recording.
In contrast to the middle part of the disc, which was packed with longer tunes, the songs are now flying by. Only a couple left, a tune then the big single. I have always had a soft spot for the dance tunes, because at their best they are all about melody. A strong theme and various movements around that offering support. They swell and subside in really nice and easy to relate to patterns, and you can let your ear latch on to the central strand and follow it to its conclusion. I find them great for stopping my head running away with other thoughts and almost inevitably end up smiling as they crescendo. Disc 1 ends with Roll the Woodpile Down, which again has a lovely melody from Sartin's reed. When those tones fly out over a string base I love Bellowhead more than ever. I missed that this was a huge hit because I don't listen to the radio, but seeing crowds lap it up over the past 4 years its hard to deny the appeal. I doubt that most people are drawn by the particular element that grabs me, but that's fine. I suspect I might be the odd one thinking the best thing in a folk arrangement is woodwind, but there we go. It gives a very definite end. In my experience it is rarely the tune to end on - disc two closes more as I would expect though.
So, a little flat compared to being there in person, but even flat Bellowhead are a treat greater than many. For another month or so until there is only this, and memory, to fall back on.
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