A Folk Song A Day

This is one Jon picked up from Fay, in fact he says, “I meant to record this with Fay but we haven’t found the time yet, so we may post it up later-on (she sings it much better than me). I hadn’t realised until recording it how close the tune is to In The Month Of January.”

Here’s another example of something you think you know, but… I have a tune in my head, it’s not this one and nor is it the American variant that seems to dominate the YouTube clips of everyone form Rory Gallagher and Janis Joplin to bloke-in-bedroom. Thank heavens then for the reissue of Shirley Collins Sweet England, which restores my faith that I am not simply delusional. Interestingly her sleeve notes for that attribute her source as ‘Great-granny’, so straight down the family line, obviously giving the tune a much wider life span than the confines of my head. The version that Jon sings is, however, very similar to Anne Briggs, but seems to have an extra verse, making this an even more cautionary tale about the falsehood of lovers. Mainly Norfolk covers Anne Briggs version and Bert Lloyds sleeve notes make interesting reading. He refers both to the ambiguity of the bird as the herald of spring and the nest stealing root of the cuckold. I guess it explains to some extent the odd conjunction of what Bert describes as ‘floating verses’ and the marriage of the pretty bird imagery with infidelity. There do seem to be several variants and the American versions in particularly seem to involve cards, whiskey, log cabins and more, in a right old stew of frontier-type imagery.  It’s perhaps not surprising, given the seasonal nature and distinctive call, that cuckoo songs in The British Isles go back many centuries and I even came across one translated from Middle English dated from C13th. You also won’t be surprised to learn that there’s more to cuckoos than brood parasitism. Should you fancy a quick nature ramble Wiki here and note that the Roadrunner is a cuckoo. Pass me my Acme rocket-skates. As for the song? Super-genius!
You can buy the January digital album now from all good download stores.

Now then, as Jon admits, “Again sung at the Colpitts, this time by Ian McCulloch. This is sort of penance for being carried along by the sentiment of Ballina Whalers, a great song but pretty traumatic. Lou Killen also recorded this.”

It fair brings a lump to the throat, but I’ve said my bit… Written by Andy Barnes and well done Andy. He seems curiously elusive, however, so if you know more please share it. Mainly Norfolk has Lou Killen’s version covered.
You can buy the January digital album now from all good download stores.

Harry Robertson via Nic Jones again and Jon says, “This was sung at the Colpitts in Durham, I think by Robin Dale. It works brilliantly as an unaccompanied chorus song, although most people associate more with Nic Jones’s driving guitar version.”

I always have this troubled feeling about the whaling songs, which I come to realise is a bit daft amongst the general murder and mayhem of folk ballads. Given the last three feature heartbreak, destitution and separation and a ghostly apparition of a drowned lover it seems silly to get sensitive about whales, but I can’t help it. To its credit this is written by a whaler and spares little of the gory detail and I agree with Jon about the drive of Nic’s version. Perhaps I need a few lusty choruses, as suggested, by means of whaling-song-aversion-aversion-therapy. It’s just that I get to the tail thrashing through the deck bit and I’m all for the whale getting away and everyone ending up drowned. Hmmmmmm!
You can buy the January digital album now from all good download stores.

Jon says “Bellamy gives an extraordinary vocal performance on his recording of this. I Learnt it to see if I could get anywhere near his performance level. Sadly not.”

It seems this was written by Jean Ritchie, who grew up in the Cumberland Mountains, the south-eastern range of the Appalachians. The youngest of 14 children born in 1922, she grew up learning the family repertoire of songs. Alan Lomax recorded The Singing Ritchies in the 30s, but Jean went on to college and teaching rather than a musical career. It wasn’t until the late 40s, having moved to New York and met the likes of Pete Seeger and Leadbelly that her singing career started to take shape. Ultimately she became known as the Mother Of Folk and you can read her story on this Wiki page. It’s worth a few minutes not least because of her studies of the links between American ballads and those of the British Isles. Peter Bellamy was obviously a big fan of Ritchie, as his notes on his Second Wind version of this song make clear and you can read them courtesy of Mainly Norfolk.
You can buy the January digital album now from all good download stores.

Sticking with the camp fire, Jon says, “Another FSC song, from Peter, Paul and Mary originally I think. The final verse (about Tiananmen Sqaure) was written by a band whose name I forget and given to me by Chris T-T and I think we used to play it in the band we had at school. I introduced the verse to FSC and I think it is still sung.”

Peter, Paul & Mary and the Kingston Trio are amongst those that have recorded this as this Wiki link shows. It also credits Hedy West as the songs composer and she could count Bert Lloyd as a fan, in fact he called her “Far and away the best of American girl singers  in the revival.” Her cotemporaries Baez and Collins are, however, infinitely better known. This can perhaps be explained by the fact that she moved to England and recorded for Topic Records, always the hand-to-mouth poor relation of respectively Vanguard and Elektra for Joan and Judy. The song drew on 900 Miles, which in turn probably followed Reuben’s Train (Mudcat here.) All share the sense of poverty and an epic journey by train, either homeward or leaving through misfortune and shame. The Tiananmen verse works in the sense of the isolation and that there is a long way to go, giving a slightly heroic twist to the everyman struggle.
You can buy the January digital album now from all good download stores.