We were lucky to see this mother and daughter duo play at a local folk festival recently. Delyth & Angharad write and play absolutely beautiful Welsh folk music. There’s an excellent review of their latest album Llinyn Arian (Silver thread) here.
Here they are playing Viva Cariad and an old favourite from my West Wales childhood Sosban Fach
The artwork by Carys Evans is gorgeous too. Love the Gwen John influence.
Mary O’ Hara’s Music Speaks Louder than Words (1978) is the first album that I can remember identifying as something that I liked for myself. I must have been around three or four years old at the time. I couldn’t quite manage to say her name, so I called her “auntie”, much to the amusement of my parents.
I now suspect that I was more interested in the photographs of O’Hara on the album cover than I was in the music. I had begun to realise that I was supposed to grow up to be a “lady”, as the people around me said in the sexist language of the time, and here was a “lady” that looked quite appealing to me. We had fields full of buttercups like the one she’s sitting in on the front cover and I was fascinated by the dress she’s wearing on the back.
I didn’t know anything about her, so I looked her up and found that she’s a very influential Irish singer and harpist. She’s had a pretty interesting life, which includes a period spent as a Benedictine nun.
This album has a lot of covers, so I think it must have been aimed at a more mainstream audience, but it’s her traditional Irish folk recordings seem to have had the staying power.
My favourite tracks when I was a child were the covers, ‘Music Speaks Louder than Words’, and ‘Annie’s Song’. As an adult, my top track is ‘Dust in the Wind’. I can’t find O’ Hara’s anywhere, but here’s a great version by Melanie.
I felt I should include one of her performances in this post, so here’s Óró Mo Bháidín which seems to be a favourite and has the most listens on Spotify.
We spent last week in rural Mid Wales. There was a crispness on the air and the scent of wood smoke as the local pubs started lighting up their fires. You could feel winter moving in.
Time to break out the folk and Americana.
- Bonnie ‘Prince’ Billy, Strange form of Life
- First Aid Kit, Wolf
- Nina Nastasia, Bird of Cuzco
- Mariee Sioux, Two Tongues
- Gillian Welch, Look at Miss Ohio
- Johnny Cash, Highway Patrolman
- Joan Baez, Money for Floods
- Cris Williamson, Fringe
- Neil Young, Everybody Knows This is Nowhere
- Bob Dylan, Not Dark Yet
One of my ambitions in life is to have amazing grey hair. I stopped dyeing my hair three years ago, but the result cannot yet be called “amazing”. It’s …. on a journey I guess, an interesting one which I would like to write more about at some point.
When I feel insecure about it, I’m going to look at this picture of Natalie Merchant from the cover of her retrospective collection.
This is everything and I’ll be happy if I can get my hair to look half as good.
Gillian Welch’s hair is looking awesome these days too
The last couple of months have been quite challenging, as well as cold and dark, so I’ve been looking for music to accompany cups of tea and introspection.
I love Joan Baez’s Gone from Danger (1997). All except one of the songs were written by younger artists (Dar Williams, Sinead Lohan) and Baez brings a rich maturity to the material. As you’d expect, there’s a political undercurrent, with songs about immigration, child abuse and environmental issues, but it’s all comforting somehow. The collector’s edition features a live bonus CD of performances in which Baez is joined by some of the songwriters.
I’ve never really been into Dar Williams. This may be a British thing, but the extreme earnestness of her lyrics makes me feel a bit uncomfortable. However, I’m getting beyond that and Promised Land (2008) is growing on me. Apparently this is one of her more poppy albums and frowned on by some fans of her earlier, more acoustic sound. I have no opinion on that at this time.
I’ve been listening to a lot of folk music this autumn. I borrowed the McGarrigle Sisters’ early album, Kate and Anna McGarrigle (1975) from the library. Although they’re very different artists, something about the sound and the song structures reminds me of Leonard Cohen, who also hails from French Canada. Also in 1970s female folk singers I’ve been listening to Joan Baez’s Diamonds and Rust (1975) a lot. It’s just a really bittersweet album and the title song about her relationship with Bob Dylan is so brilliantly cutting – surely one of the best break-up songs of all time.
I’ve never been much into Dar Williams, but my partner is and I liked Cry Cry Cry. Williams is extremely earnest, but Promised Land (2008) has grown on me since I decided just to go with it, accept the earnestness for what it is, and enjoy the tunes. Thea Gilmore, meanwhile, is a British pop/folk singer who specialises in two kinds of songs: upbeat/catchy and reflective/melodic. Her album Liejacker (2008) mainly consists of the latter and is in some ways her most serious and mature album (if not her most enjoyable), addressing themes such as depression and becoming a parent.
“Hello my little train wreck”
I was first introduced to Thea Gilmore by a feminist friend back in 2004. Since then, she’s become a mainstay of my music collection, turning out tuneful and politically astute albums every couple of years. She has a lovely, pure voice and a refreshingly unaffected delivery. Murphy’s Heart is her tenth studio album and I think it stands out alongside Rules for Jokers and Liejacker as one of her strongest, balancing her more upbeat folk and pop songs with her trademark mournful ballads, while retaining the political edge. The opening track ‘This Town’ is a rousing warning against the dangers of getting stuck in a rut, a sentiment I appreciate as someone who grew up in a town where we firmly believed that if you didn’t get out by the time you were 21, you would never get out. Then there’s the great tune of ‘God’s Got Nothing on You’ and the soaring chorus of ‘Due South’. ‘Love’s the Greatest Instrument’ has this amazing sense of speed and movement and is possibly my favourite track on the album. ‘Automatic Blue’ and ‘Coffee and Roses’ are classic laments. ‘You’re on the Radio’ is one her forays into more poppy territory and is OK, but I prefer the more folky sound. ‘Not Alone’ has a relentless, swirling melody and a great brass accompaniment. The last three tracks didn’t strike me as being as strong as the rest, but were still pretty good. Overall, I think this is going to become a favourite.
Also playing this week: Frank Black, Frank Black and (as Black Francis) Svn Fingers, and Kristin Hersh’s Crooked.