Bert Jansch - 'Rosemary Lane' (Reprise)

It's 1971 now, and the Pentangle records are still coming but they've arguably passed their creative peak of the Sweet Child/Basket of Light/Cruel Sister era. Jansch put out a solo record called Nicola (after Birthday Blues) but I've never heard it, so we have to skip ahead and check in with him at this point. And this one is very much back to being a traditionalist folk record, albeit with a crisp and slightly glowing production that makes it sound far different in tone, atmosphere and harmonic space than those early releases on Transatlantic/Vanguard. The acoustic guitar is as closely recorded as on Bert and John, but it's warmer, in that wonderful way the slightest alterations in recording can totally change the sound of a singer-songwriter - perhaps the capsule was tilted at a different angle, scanning a different part of the fretboard. The material is mostly original Jansch acoustic compositions, but features a few covers and traditional numbers. 'Reynardine' is a familiar one for Fairport fans, and his interpretation is strongly affected yet warm, as he seems to be focused on intoning delicately. This vocal approach is heard on the sweet, romantic parts of this record, such as opening cut 'Tell Me What Is True Love?', which is chillingly beautiful. The instrumentals here are very stark and carefully composed, far away from any more rollicking Fahey-esque movement, 'Sarabanda' being a 16th century violin tune. They serve as nice boundaries between the lyrics, and there's a good thought to this sequencing. 'Bird Song' is the closer, which according to the liner notes is about his impressions of 'America and the American people'. Nothing like the Holy Modal Rounders tune of the same name, it's more Animal Farm, telling of the different types of birds which we must take as metaphors. It feels more scientific than sociopolitical, closer to the previous record's 'Tree Song', but therein lies the genius of songwriting. I feel like in pushing through these Jansch records, eight in a row, as much as I enjoy them it's hard for me to really give myself to them, so anxious am I to get to Joseph Jarman. And admittedly this is one of the ones I always forget about, but it's (like all of theme) a perfectly pleasant way to pass a half hour.

The Incredible String Band (Elektra)

Mono pressing. Clive Palmer has a great reputation, maybe because he left the Incredible String Band after this debut album, before they found more commercial success, which cements him along with Syd Barrett, Howard Devoto, Judy Dyble and others who got out while the going was good. Listening to this lovely sounding (mono!) pressing, I realise that he wasn't a phenomenally large presence anyway. This debut is more like a "songwriter's guild" type of band, without all three members playing on every track, and a few being solo pieces. There's a very unfortunately titled solo Palmer track which should be enough to ruin his reputation except maybe because it's a jaunty banjo instrumental (and also a traditional tune) he gets away with it; otherwise it's only on 'Empty Pocket Blues' that we get to hear his voice. It's a nice song, though Robin Williamson's furtive tin whistling is what really makes it. Other gems are 'Dandelion Blues', which is whimsical and fleeting; 'When the Music Starts to Play' and the closing stomper 'Everything's Fine Right Now'. This type of winking contemporary folk came at the right place right time; I don't hear anything particularly 'psychedelic' here beyond the general lightness of tone and colour of the arrangements, but England was maybe more of a mushroom culture at this point, 1966. Heron and Williamson were actually both from Edinburgh as we're told in the notes on 'Smoke Shovelling Song', but this isn't a band I tend to remember when chronicling Scotland's greats. The liner notes are great -not quite lyrics but rambling written riffs on the themes of the song, which bring a nice accompaniment to the listening experience. This recording - did I mention it's in mono? - sounds clear and balanced, with the chop-chop of the strummed strings echoing for all of eternity, whether it's guitar, banjo, or mandolin. It's funny to think that Fairport Convention and Steeleye Span et. al formed in the wake of this, though I'm not sure how strong the influence was, and they were more rockin' when they started. Still, ISB managed to ultimately build a myth around themselves and it's hard to hear why in this first record. I saw a reunion show of the original trio circa 2004 and Clive Palmer seemed so goddamned old they pretty much had to wheel him out and prop him up --  though Wikipedia indicated he was only 61 at the time. I never did hear those C.O.B. records, maybe they're good?

Shirley and Dolly Collins - For As Many As Will (Topic)

Dolly goes synth! Well, just a little bit. Though made with a small band, most of the cuts on the gramattically-confusing For As Many As Will are pretty stripped down, often with just Dolly on the flute-organ and some minimal cornett or recorder from the other guys (a band which again includes Barry Dransfield on fiddle, though he only appears on a few tracks (though he sings a bit, too)). Side one ends with a long medley of seven different songs (hailing apparently from 1728) and the flute-organ is the constant that holds down the segues. It's most evident how the addition of just a simple recorder can transform a vibe from cooky country-faire into total Defender of the Crown style. While side one starts with the beautiful 'Lancashire Lass', it ends with the medley, which starts to get a bit dense even with rests between it's four sections. The final piece of it is the instrumental 'Lumps of Pudding' (which sounds like the name of some bad prog-rock instrumental) and it's like a raw Third Ear Band tune, cutting through any sentimentality that might linger from the previous medley with sharp euphonium and shawm playing quite wonderfully with Dolly's synth. Her synth patches, of course, aren't exactly Dick Hyman -- they fit quite seamlessly with their sound. Side two beings with the flowing piano ballad 'Gilderoy', which has some rare double-tracked vocals by Shirley. Though over 100 years old now, it manages to stir something in me and that's without even really paying attention to the lyrics, which are surely tragic. Before you can get too used to it, it lurches into the courtly stomp of 'Rockley Firs', and then another circuitous instrumental jam called 'Sweet Jenny Jones', propelled throughout by euphonium farts. The instrumentalism continues through a German Xmas carol before getting back into a righteous Shirley delivery, 'The Moon Shines Bright'. Another medley takes us out, this one about the harvest, with the standout being the fiddle + gittern accompanied 'The Mistress's Health', where Dransfield knows exactly when to saw and when to let it lie. So another solid album closes - and the door closes Shirley Collins in these annals. After A Favourite Garland's somewhat confusing or incomplete liner notes, For As Many As Will overcompensates by listing every musician's instruments multiple times - at the top and bottom of the track listing, and then broken down on each track. Don't let it be said that you don't know who's playing gittern on this record!

Captain Matchbox Whoopee Band - 'Wangaratta Wahine' (Image)

I only know this gang of Australian jug-band revivalists because their first LP was (strangely) released on the ESP label. This is their second, from 1974, and it's a pretty solid effort for what it is. I guess I admit a soft spot for liking this sort of thing, which explains it's presence in these pages (and all the Spike Jones CDs I have). As miners of pre-World War II popular music, Captain Matchbox Whoopee Band are certainly competent. This record is loaded with speedy chops, and relatively tasteful arrangements - they were a fairly large ensemble whose members know when to not play. The harmonica was supposedly the big attraction here and it's nice, certainly preferable to the silly fart-sounding kazoo playing that appears a few times. Eleven of the twelve songs are upbeat, usually built around a rock drum kit, which (in conjunction with the good studio recording) dates this music and gives it that slightly disappointing retro feel. The slow tune is 'Wait for me Juanita', which is actually a beautiful, delicate song that transcends the novelty vibe stuck on everything else. The Aussie accents sneak through at times, on the title track or on the pro-smoking bend of 'If youse a viper'. We get lots of cartoony sections, and plenty of goofball vocals, but there's a dedication to the style that is earnest enough. My tastes definitely run towards the Bohemian vibes of 'Lovesick blues' or 'Half a moon is better than no moon' moreso than silly tunes lke 'Your feets to big'(sic). 'Jug band music' is perhaps their raison d'être, which actually is quite stirring and honest. Of course, my taste in jug bands runs closer to 13th Floor Elevators, but I can sort of understand why ESP was affiliated with these guys. Did I mention I bought this in Melbourne? Maybe this kind of retro sensibility comes around every twenty years - the Squirrel Nut Zippers had a hit in '96 so I guess we have a few more to wait for the next one.