Steve Power wrote this review.
Past: One cold November night in the mid 1970s, I stood in line extending halfway around the ‘Liverpool Stadium’ (a large capacity venue originally built as a boxing arena) eagerly waiting to be given entrance for a performance by Steeleye Span. The band was approaching the zenith of its popularity in the charts, and their shows – this was my third in two years – were always sold out.
It is somewhat ironic, then, to recall that as we stood there, five long-haired, scruffy individuals in long wool-lined kaftan coats politely broke through our line, approached a nearby stage door, knocked on it and were given entrance. The irony being that no one – including me – said anything to them. They were certainly not mobbed or molested, in the way one might expect Robbie Williams or Justin Timberlake to be treated should they push through crowds at their own shows. I even recall thinking that most of those that saw them (not me, obviously!) didn’t even recognise them for who they were. Steeleye Span, for Martin Carthy’s sake! The biggest thing to hit British folk rock since the Vox amplifier! But maybe that was the way with folk rock heroes – and middle-class ones to boot. We treated them with the respect that they deserved.
The audience expressed their recognition and appreciation of the famous folkers once the show started, and the band responded by being dragged back to the stage for no less than three encores. The final encore was the most memorable. I can still see them in a single line across the stage in that ‘I’ve-got-a-wasp-or-something-similarly-nasty-in-my-left-ear-and-I’m-sticking-my-finger-down-there-to-find-it-while-I-continue-to-sing’ pose, once again clad in the kaftans (and no doubt wondering if the taxis had arrived) singing the most exquisite a capella version of the pop classic ‘Rag Doll’ that I will ever hear.
Time passed. Steeleye Span’s heyday came and went, as did many different versions of the band’s lineup. Classic single and album releases were both behind and still in front of the band on that long-ago Kaftan Night, but after the late 1980s they began to leave the glory days far behind them – even though they still had to release some of their most original and critically acclaimed work.
Present: Peter Knight, fiddler, song-writer and Steeleye stalwart extraordinaire somehow coaxes most of the far flung and previously reluctant heyday line-up (with the notable exception of Tim Hart) to record a new album, and then tour it! The album consists of songs selected by the band’s army of staunch followers, via an online poll.
It is a double-album, one CD coloured blue and the other brown (if there is a significance to that, I’d love to know what it is) with interesting sleeve notes by Maddy, Bob and Peter. (The lyrics would have been good, too, guys!) The lineup is close to that of the ‘glory days’: Maddy Prior (err, who else?) on vocals, Bob Johnson on electric guitar and vocals, Rick Kemp on bass and vocals, Peter Knight on fiddle and vocals, and Liam Genockey on drums. Incidentally; there was no real ‘drummer’ in Steeleye Span when I was a true follower (although I vaguely remember Tim Hart playing a snare drum on some songs) and I think fanatical folkies would still find this percussive addition unpalatable most of the time. For what it’s worth: where it is used, I think it adds something positive, but most ‘Spanners’ could live without it.
This CD was a good idea, overall. The selection of songs is nearly bang on as a collection of ‘Steeleye Span’s Greatest Hits’, albeit with some notable exceptions. ‘The Lark in the Morning’ and ‘Copshawholme Fair’ are both sadly missing, and for my money no ‘Best of Steeleye’ is complete without ‘The Blacksmith’. There are also some ‘interesting’ choices for inclusion which left me wondering just exactly when some of the fans who chose the ‘set’ first started listening to the band. ‘When I was on Horseback’ is an adaptation of a song by the Irish Traveller Mary Doran, and will be most familiar as ‘The Streets of Larado’. It is the first track on CD 2 and is by far the most unpleasant listening I have had in some time. This, strangely, is a compliment to the production of the song, which is bordering on ‘ghoulish’ and which left me feeling extremely creeped out. As it’s about a smelly, dead soldier being carried through Cork City, the musical treatment perfectly befits the lyrical content. But I would have preferred a brighter opening to the CD. ‘Lyke Wake Dirge’ is another ‘don’t listen to this alone at night’ choice. It is a song about Purgatory, originally sung in Yorkshire over the remains of the dead. The close harmonies are stunning and redolent of old Steeleye, making up for the morbid lyrics.
Interestingly enough, Steeleye Span songs have more than their fair share of morbidity. This is a fact to which, as a younger man, I never really gave much consideration. But, listening closely to the words on this collection, I realised that old English folk music is full of mayhem, murder, death, adultery and black magic. So, no change there, then! ‘Long Lankin’ is a sort of medieval ‘bogey man’ who comes when no one is looking and does despicable things to children and their mothers, with the help of ‘false nurses’. As a trained nurse myself, I can tell you that the profession still has one or two of those! Peter’s violin is beautifully nasty on this track and it is probably one of the strongest in the collection. ‘John Barleycorn’ has it fair share of violence, too. But the joke is on you, should you think poor old John is a man beaten to death (have a listen and discover the truth). My only problem with this version of the song, is that I was weaned on Tim Hart’s affected agricultural tones and lusty performances of it. Rick does a good enough job, but it’s still not quite how I remember it.
Some of the songs are how I remember them, and I suspect that many listeners will not be able to detect much difference in the present performances of ‘All Around My Hat’, ‘Gaudete’ and ‘Cam Ye O’er Frae France’, for example. The vocals are strong and the arrangements familiar, which begs the question of why they didn’t make them significantly different? But, if it’s not broke, don’t fix it, I suppose.
The outstanding track on CD 1, for me, is ‘Hard Times of Old England’. There is a new lilting, swaying, almost bluesy feel to the arrangement, and Maddy’s unique voice is never better on the entire collection – with the possible exception of the ‘hidden’ solo vocal track (I’ll let you find it). There are, regrettably, a couple of tracks where I do feel Maddy’s voice sounds a little tired, but not enough to condemn the whole album as a mistake.
On CD 2, Peter excels himself on the vocals of his own wonderful ballad ‘Let Her Go Down’. This is the extended lyric version. The original single was a bit shorter, and there is no doubt, this time, that the song is about a sinking boat! The repeat button on my CD player has never worked harder. Sublime stuff!
Any niggles? Yes, the CDs are only 42 and 50 minutes long, respectively, plus the hidden track on disc 2. Still plenty more room for the missing songs I mentioned above, and a few more besides. I realise that time and money are a major consideration when making a CD these days, but it would have been good to see them go ‘the whole hog’ (these guys are surely no longer ‘below the salt’). Printed lyrics would have been welcomed, too.
All in all, as an older fan, it’s worth having just for the improved production values and new arrangements of some tracks – and the sentimental value, of course. Those new to Steeleye Span have a ready made collection here, too, which is always a good selling point. They might do better, though, to buy All Around My Hat and Below The Salt, to at least get them started on their own collection and hear how it was done when I was a lad!
(Park Records, 2002)
