Pop: Now that's what I call trad music
It's that time of the decade again. Folk is back in fashion. But is this the real thing... or soft rock by another name? By Charlotte Greig
Friday 17 December 1999
Well, maybe. Anyone with a steady interest in unpopular music of any kind, whether avant-garde jazz or finger-in-your-ear folk, is bound to be a little wary of these sudden surges of enthusiasm. Yet the revival - if that's not too strong a word - isn't coming from the Beth Ortons and Nick Drake clones, as far as I can see. It's coming from a slowly- building, grass roots culture which takes its cue from the punk movement of the late Seventies: beer-on-the-floor bars, cult fanzines, and tiny record labels putting out ramshackle, unpolished yet sophisticated, cutting- edge music for a small bunch of devotees.
But first, the mainstream. There are signs the younger generation of club-goers need and want human-scale, acoustic music. That's what the big record companies will be getting excited about. Which is where Beth Orton comes in. For years, I couldn't understand why people referred to her music as "folk" - it seemed to be a superior type of soft rock that's been going strong since the Sixties, has never been fashionable and never will be. "Folk", in mainstream music circles, simply means sung by "a person with long hair and a guitar" - it certainly bears no relation to the idea of a traditional musical culture.
That isn't to say, of course, that Orton's music is any the worse for being in the singer-songwriter genre. Since the Sixties, when Peter, Paul and Mary first got Bob Dylan's songs into the hit parade, there has been a category of musician that has nothing much to do with traditional music, and everything to do with the perceived virtues of the tradition: singers who can perform in communal situations without a great deal of technical equipment, songs with a social message, and so on. Today, that role is performed by artists like Ani Di Franco and Billy Bragg: "folk singers" who have all the political commitment and passion of early hobos such as Woody Guthrie, yet belong to no obvious musical culture.
A more challenging approach is offered, I think, by the musicians who have chosen to align themselves with the traditions of Europe and America. These are mainly people who didn't learn Barbara Allen at their mothers' knee, but who have grown up listening to rock music and then traced its roots back into history. They are also people who have learnt from the DIY punk ethos of the Seventies and Eighties. The burgeoning alt.country scene in the US is a case in point. It is a real "scene": lots of small, live venues in America's major cities (especially Chicago), hundreds of bands (of variable quality), festivals (such as Twangfest), magazines (eg, the excellent No Depression), tiny independent labels, mail order catalogues, Net websites, and so on. It's a scene where big stars such as Dolly Parton - who has just made a bluegrass album and who probably did learn "Barbara Allen" at mum's knee - are revered alongside left-field mavericks such as Will Oldham (alias Bonnie "Prince" Billie), and Kristin Hersh, and where bands with names like Freakwater, The Handsome Family, and Trailer Bride raid the music of rural America to create skewed, threatening, and sometimes bleakly comic readings of blood-and-guts ballads and surreal tales of misadventure.
In Britain, there is as yet no comparable "alt.folk" scene. The main difficulty lies in the fact that the live music circuit for low-key, acoustically- oriented bands is tiny, just as it was in the Seventies before punk enlivened pub rock. It's significant that many British ex-punks have decamped to America and found a place in alt.country there - for example the Mekons' Jon Langford, whose 1998 album Skull Orchard explores and celebrates the industrial history of south Wales, and Sally Timms, whose recent Cowboy Sally's Twilight Laments for Lost Buckaroos reinvents country and western.
Yet, despite the air of indifference in Britain, we are at last beginning to see the preconditions for a genuine revival of interest in traditional music. Not only is there a brave new generation of trad folk performers such as Eliza Carthy, Rusby, Nancy Kerr, and the Lakeman brothers (mostly the children of first-wave revivalists), there has also been a small avalanche of traditional English music appearing on CD for the first time, thereby giving many of us our first chance to appreciate the strength and variety of the tradition.
Pre-eminent among these has been Topic Records' epic 20-CD collection The Voice Of The People, and the Century of Song compilation recently issued by the English Folk Song and Dance Society.
The society has also commissioned Unknown Public to put together a package based around English traditional music. The result is Root and Branch, a fascinating CD and magazine with a collection of articles, facsimiles and postcards, that explores the theme of crossing boundaries, "musically, geographically and spiritually". Thus, the CD features a variety of singers and musicians giving their interpretations of classics such as Van Diemen's Land, the moving tale of convicts transported to Tasmania after British colonisation in 1825. Another journey, this time of a song, is explored in a poster, "The Unfortunate Rake", that gives different versions of the piece, from its "anon" beginnings through to its appearance as a published broadside ballad, and then to its existence in America as the country song "Streets of Laredo" and the blues standard "St James Infirmary".
But the most intriguing item in the pack is a contemporary postcard showing some graffiti on a toilet wall near an approved school in Maidstone, Kent. It's a poem, "A Borstal Boy", and is clearly a version of an old ballad, "Died for Love", aka "The Butcher Boy". The story concerns a boy rejected by his girlfriend because of his criminal habits, who then dies in his cell for love of her. That such an ancient ballad should have survived and been customised by successive generations until today is perhaps the most poignant reminder that English traditional music still has a role to play in our lives.
`Root and Branch' magazine is on subscription (0171-402 2789); Billy Bragg and Kate Rusby are reviewed overleaf; Charlotte Greig's new album `Down in the Valley' is released on Harmonium Records (distributed by Direct) in February
BBC Trust agrees to axe channel from TV in favour of digital moveTV
FestivalsFive ways to avoid the portable toilets
Jurassic WorldThe results are completely brilliant
Arts & Ents blogs
- 1 Reader dilemma: 'Our son is 34 with an IQ of 85, and spends all his time in his room. What will happen to him when we're no longer here?'
- 2 Tunisia hotel attack: Locals form 'human shield' to protect hotel from gunman Seifeddine Rezgui
- 3 Russian officials ban yoga because it's too much like a religious cult
- 4 German ethics council calls for incest between siblings to be legalised by Government
- 5 Ginger Pride festival to take place next summer, organisers say 'time of bullying gingers is over'
Glastonbury 2015: The best things you missed from Lionel Richie and the Dalai Lama to how beautiful the festival is
The picture of a man crowd surfing in a wheelchair at Glastonbury is brilliant, but it wasn't taken at Glastonbury
Fifty Shades of Grey author E.L James's Twitter Q&A didn't go exactly as planned
Guillaume Tell, Royal Opera House, review: Gang rape and stripping naked of female actor met with boos
Glastonbury 2015: Shocking scenes of rubbish left strewn across campsite as clean-up begins
The moment a Queen's Guard soldier lost it and drew his gun at annoying tourist
Greece crisis: The wider lesson is that it’s time to abandon this failed experiment in currencies
'I wish the BBC would stop calling it Islamic State' – David Cameron unleashes frustration at broadcaster
Pentagon accuses Russia of 'playing with fire' over nuclear threats towards Nato
Greece crisis: IMF was pushed around by Angela Merkel and Nicholas Sarkozy – and now it is being humiliated
They are neither a 'state' nor 'Islamic': Why we shouldn't call them Isis, Isil or IS