With that autumnal chill now prominently in the air, I figured it would be appropriate to discuss my favorite fall-time electric folk collective. There’s nothing better than Fairport Convention on the ghetto blaster as the soundtrack to a crisp, dry, cool autumn evening. Evidently, the band agrees as well. Look at all those dried up dead leaves in the old band photo above. Smokey the Bear would have had a shit-fit if he was there. I know I have a bad habit of going off-topic and chasing tangents, but it’s worth mentioning that Smokey the Bear is still totally awesome.
You know what’s not awesome, though? The notion that Bob Dylan is the end-all, be-all of folk songwriters. I tend to polarize people in my friends circle with that ol’ statement of mine “Bob Dylan… totally overrated.” Ballsy, I know. This is not to say that Blood on the Tracks and similar jam hives are not remarkable. However, some of Dylan’s accolades should have also been bestowed upon a certain premiere British electric folk collective that turn traditional folk songs and ’60s psych folk into godlike rumbles. The hippies may hang their fabric Bob Dylan posters in their living rooms in messianic ritual, claiming to be all up in on that folk tip, but they will all look at you confused when you drop the bomb of who the greatest folk artist of all time is. And that’s Fairport Convention. Perhaps I’m losin’ it, or am totally missing something, but I just don’t think Dylan could have composed what Fairport Convention did in 1969 with the magical What We Did On Our Holidays – lyrically, musically, or otherwise. A powerful statement for a powerful album.
What We Did On Our Holidays is one of the most diverse, sweeping, moody folk albums ever released. Granted, all the preceding banter is pure opinionated fodder. With all those bravado statements out of the way, it should be noted that Fairport Convention do, ahem, cover Dylan’s “I’ll Keep It With Mine.” Regardless, Fairport Convention uber alles.
The depth of each song – rich, orchestrated layers with literary lyrics and a sonic roller coaster feel throughout the 12 flawless movements – is something rarely heard in a normally minimalist, populist genre. Sandy Denny’s vocals on “She Moves Through the Fair” is stunningly seraphic, soaring high over atmospheric, loose arrangements. Totally celestial. It’s a traditional Irish folk song, but the weighty mood of Fairport Convention’s version feels like something entirely different than a public domain sing-a-long – it feels like an emotional KO. I mean, look at what’s happening at the three minute mark: “Last night she came to me / My dead love came in / So softly she came that her feet made no din / And she laid her hand on me and this she did say ‘Oh, it will not be long, love till our wedding day’” I mean, what do you say to that? Call me a nancyboy if you will, but that chokes me up. Sappy, I know. I also like flowers. So what?
Compare this with “Tale in Hard Time,” the previous song on the record. Forgive me for likening this jam to Blue Cheer, but ya know, for folk – this is heavy. Like BC heavy. Not only does the rhythm thump and guitars (albeit clean distortion guitars) slam seismic, but you gotta love that baroque flavor through the entire song courtesy of Simon Nicol’s autoharp that, I guess, he got from a time machine or somethin’.
Not much to say about “Nottamun Town,” other than it’s the perfect mystical chanty to play if you ever find yourself traveling by caravan across the Anglo country side with Donovan and Vashti Bunyan. Another classic that slays me on an almost daily basis.
Anyway, without further ado, get it crunk on these nuggets.
MP3 :::
Fairport Convention – She Moves Through the Fair
Fairport Convention – Nottamun Town
Fairport Convention – Tale in Hard Time
