And another review for Folking.com. A bit folkier than the last one, and one of the very best CDs I’ve heard this year.
And another review for Folking.com. A bit folkier than the last one, and one of the very best CDs I’ve heard this year.
Review of a blues/rock CD by Mike Brookfield.
Another of my reviews for Folking.com. Blues/rock rather than folk, but I liked it anyway.
MIKE BROOKFIELD – Brookfield (Golden Rule Records GRCD003)
“Mike’s own web site describes the CD as “11 tracks of burnin’ blues rock“, which is not a bad description: he clearly knows one end of a Strat (or Les Paul!) from the other (and evidently is not a bad bass player, either).”
David Harley
A review of sorts: Bert Jansch’s first album revisited, more than fifty years on.
On a recent visit to Shropshire, I was once again accused of being influenced by Bert Jansch’s guitar playing. Though I do believe that a musician is more than the sum of his or her influences (or should be, at my age…), it was hard for anyone who started to play – or attempt – serious acoustic guitar in the late 60s not to absorb some influences from musicians like Davy Graham, Jansch, John Renbourn, and folkier types like Martin Carthy and Nic Jones. And while the days when I’d spend hours and days trying to disassemble other people’s music are long gone, I can’t deny the debt I owe to these and many others, not least the realization that there are more interesting things to do with a guitar accompaniment than play straight chords in standard tuning.
Strangely enough, I’ve never owned a Bert Jansch album. But in 2014, on a flight back from Sidney, I discovered via BA’s in-flight audio channel not only that I don’t much care for Mumford and Sons, but also that Bert’s first album was much better than I remembered. Of course, the guitar was always exceptional, but the vocals seemed much better than I remembered. So I made a mental note to acquire a copy, but never got around to it.
A week or so ago, however, while rifling through what I like to call the ‘recordings that only old folkies care about’ section in Shrewsbury’s HMV, I came across that same album and reached for my wallet. This, by the way, isn’t exactly the same recording I heard on the plane, which included some rough instrumental versions, which I rated primarily as of historical/completist interest. This, as far as I remember, includes the same tracks and running order as the original 1965 vinyl, though not the original sleeve notes. It does, however, include a more recent appreciation of Bert’s music and influence by Will Hodgkinson and an interview by Mick Houghton with Bill Leader, who produced the album (Transatlantic Records, TRACD 125).
There may not be too many readers for a review of an album that’s over 50 years old – and which an awful lot of guitarists of my generation will remember better than I did – but I’m going to go through the individual tracks anyway.
There are contrasting aspects to this album. The guitar pieces demonstrate a gifted musician already displaying outstanding technique: the song accompaniments are accomplished, but are particularly notable for the fact that the artist never lets virtuosity get in the way of the song. The vocals are at times a little unsteady, but work better for me than the more mannered approach that seems to have characterized some of his work (solo and with Pentangle) a little later on. The songs are never less than interesting melodically and harmonically, and if the lyrics occasionally border on the banal (“Love, be bold/We’re not so old”) the best of them have a directness and emotional impact that he may have equalled later in his career, but probably never surpassed.
I’m glad to have finally added this album to my collection. It was, after all, undoubtedly a milestone in the evolution of the singer-songwriter culture and the eclectic ‘folk baroque’ school of acoustic guitar that continues to chime with much younger musicians who may never have heard the term.
David Harley
I have a large basket full of forgotten or half-written songs, or even orphaned lines and verses. Every so often I take a look through it, and a few days ago, I found this, from the early 70s.
I thought I heard you singing in the street
You couldn’t hold the tune, but the words were sweet
I don’t know who you were singing for
I don’t even wish it was me
And I remember once I caught you crying
I was half-asleep, your body next to mine
You wouldn’t say what you were crying for
I suppose it might have been me
And once I heard you singing in the street
You couldn’t hold the tune, but the words were sweet
I heard that song too long ago
There’s nothing more to say
“Of course I love you
I told you so”
“Yes, I remember
But it seems so long ago”
And a version with a second guitar, just as a tryout. I think the final version will be quite different (and will need some work on the vocals: I wasn’t getting those low notes very well today). Still, nice to have a version actually down. Or up. Or somewhere…
Backup:
David Harley
Words and music (c) David Harley 1973