Top 100 Albums - #59: Campfire Punkrock EP (2006)

Folk musician Frank Turner has his first and last entry in the shape of his solo debut, Campfire Punkrock EP.Born Francis Turner in Bahrain, Turner was educated at Eton and entered the music business in 2001 as the vocalist for hardcore punk band Million Dead. The group, which included Turner's old friend Ben Dawson on drums, lasted four years and released two albums. But after the loss of guitarist Dean Cameron in late 2004, the band's fortunes and finances dwindled, and they parted ways at the end of a tour in September 2005. Capitalising upon well-received solo gigs in 2004 - intended to expose Million Dead rather than undermine them - Turner began a full-time solo career and relocated to Oxford to compose material for an EP.

Campfire Punkrock is the result. It opens with 'Nashville Tennessee', a bright track with a country-ish tinge to it. Turner is not the best singer, but he makes up for this in some very sharp lyrics and a "punk rock sense of honesty." This does sound very much like how country and western would have sounded if it had been invented in Britain. It has a folkish sensibility, combined with some nice blues-sounding chords in the middle. It's a very decent opening which establishs the tone and style of both the EP and Turner's oeuvre.

Having marked himself out as being at the more intelligent end of the singer-songwriter scale, Turner now gets political with 'Thatcher Fucked The Kids'. Here the lyrics are barbed, expletive and, most importantly of all, right on the button. This song is truly Dylan-esque in that it sums up the predicament of a new generation, coping with the turmoils of 2006. You only have to look at the first few lines of the bridge to realise his lyrical brilliance:

A generation raised on the welfare state
Enjoyed all of its benefits and did just great
But as soon as they were settled as the richest of the rich
They kicked away the ladder,
Told the rest of us that life's a bitch

Sadly, however, that's where the praise temporarily grinds to a halt. 'This Town Ain't Big Enough For The One Of Me' is a run-of-the-mill stripped-back indie punk number, reminiscent of early Green Day synthesised awkwardly with The Undertones. Turner shouts the lyrics over the flatlined melody, in a effort to disguise their relative shallowness. The structure of the chorus is pinched straight from The Buzzcocks' 'Ever Fallen In Love (With Someone You Shouldn't Have' and it's just generally unoriginal.

But the great thing about Turner, as it turns out, is that he learns from his mistakes. 'Casanova Lament' may be the shortest track at only 2:14, but it still manages to tell a story and cram a lot in without seeming top-heavy or slushy. If it were done by anyone else, this kind of gentle strummer sounds like the theme song for a perfume advert. Turner, on the other hand, makes this a honest love song of regret through his delivery, first and foremost, but through his precise playing too.

The EP closes with 'I Really Don't Care What You Did On Your Gap Year', whose title sounds like either a disillusioned student anthem or a Panic! At The Disco offcut. Like 'Casanova Lament', this is a romantic number, with all the brutal honesty of the morning after a one-night stand. Again, it's down-tempo, guitar heavy and honestly delivered, but this is only to be expected since Turner is still finding his sound. If the entire record had consistently of regurgitations of this, it might not have fared so well. As it is, it's pretty damn good.

As folk records go, Campfire Punkrock veers closer to the political barbs of Bob Dylan than the glossy nostalgia of Show Of Hands or the heart-wrenching spirituality of Martyn Joseph (see my review of Deep Blue (2005), #94). There are traces of Turner's punk-tinged upbringing both in its brutal honesty and blunt delivery, and it is where these two come to height at the same time that the record is truly great. The downside to the EP are the genre-hopping slip-ups along the way - very few of the experiments, especially the middle track, reward the listener's patience. In the final analysis, however, this is a wonderfully piquant record which should reward its creator with the success he deserves.

3.80 out of 5

Top 100 Albums - #70: Peacetime (2007)

Eddi Reader makes her second and final appearance on the chart with Peacetime, her most recent offering.After the release of her BRIT Award-winning self-titled second album (#75), Eddi Reader continued to release a steady stream of albums which received less attention in the press but were well-received by critics. Their quality ranged from the fragmented and formulaic (Candyfloss and Medicine (1996)) to the sublime and enchanting (Angels & Electricity (1998)). After a wave of studio and live releases in the first years of the 21st century, in 2003 Reader teamed up with the Royal Scottish National Orchestra. The resulting album, Sings The Songs Of Robert Burns (2003), featured music set to the Scottish 'bard''s lyrics and led to a resurgence in interest in the figure. After being awarded an MBE for services to music and spending most of 2006 touring in Australia, Reader returned to the studio to record Peacetime, her first non-live release in four years.

The album opens with the cleverly titled 'Baron's Heir and Sadenia's Air'. Beginning with a wonderful accordion, this has a more overtly Celtic flavour than any of the pre-Burns material. There are some lovely multiple acoustic guitars layered over each other, each of which compliments Reader's voice. Her voice has aged extraordinary well, with the accent as endearing as before. The production is immaculate, as John McCusker balances the ornate layering of instruments with a laid-back folk feel.

'Muddy Water' continues the focus on acoustic and vocals, to its benefit. This is more repetitive, and just as rigidly structured as the opener. But this does not make it a bad song. If anything it creates hooks to prevent the listener drifting into a satisfied daze. This in turn means that some of the more comprehensible of Boo Hewerdine's lyrics - Who said anything about time?/ Well, it's not yours and it's not mine - to break out of the confines of the melody.

'Mary And The Soldier' is a traditional classic which benefits from Reader's unique delivery. The combined efforts of the guitar and mandolin create a jolly atmosphere over which Reader can croon the Glaswegian lyrics oh-so sweetly. This is folk of the quality and style that bands like Show Of Hands have maintained so well. Reader here takes this successful, well-kept format and adds a Scottish twist to create something which is absolutely charming.

Despite all the praise which 'Mary And The Soldier' deserves, the honour of best track must go to 'Aye Waukin-O'. The reason? Aside from anything else, this is the first number to achieve completely that which the album is meant for. The whole of Peacetime is an intended synthesis of Eddi's earlier solo work - like Eddi Reader (1994) - designed to chill you out, with her Robert Burns work. This achieves both in spades - it's irresistably Celtic and at the same time it avoids being overpowering, allowing you to drift into a welcome slumber without a hint of boredom or dejection.

Both 'Prisons' and 'The Shepherd's Song' continue and extend the aim of relaxation. The former is littered with simple rhymes and ever simpler guitar, over which Reader and Hewerdine harmonise the forgetable but soothing melody. The latter has somewhat more substance to it, thanks to a brass section - perhaps the Black Dyke Mills Band, who knows? It's a little longer, too, which allows the listener sufficient time to get the message even if drifting in and out of a soft slumber.

'Ye Banks And Braes O' Bonnie Doon' is the first real slip-up on the album. It begins with more upbeat folk reminiscent of Martin Joseph's 'Can't Breathe' (see my review of Deep Blue (2005), #94). This suffers from the same problem - the faster tempo does not suit Reader's voice, certainly at this age. And the pipe instrumentals over the (relatively) loud drums make this sound a little too like Big Country to be taken seriously.

'Should I Pray?' restores focus. With an opening reminiscent of later efforts by Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds, this makes good use of the piano and violin, complimented by the gentle brushes on the drums. Reader is on top form in this very gentle, soothing number about faith and doubt, which concludes with the exquisite line Lose a life, lose a love, lose it all my friend. Equally deserving of praise is 'The Afton', though in a different way. Here, the guitar returns to the foreground to accompany the violin, and the drums are heavier. This rolls along very gently, giving an incident of what it would have been like if Rick Wright had been into folk instead of jazz.

'Leezie Lindsay' is a second step backward. It's a little too laid back, even for Reader. And that's not all that's wrong with it. Here the Scottish dialect is a little strong for all but the experienced listener, and musically this is quite stripped back. While on many folk tracks this may work well, with Reader it does not when we have been thus far exposed to a delightfully polished studio sound.

Thankfully, 'Safe As Houses' takes the record back where it belongs, at the apex of Reader's repertoire. As on 'Muddy Water', the lyrics are a lot more memorable here; you could almost call the chorus catchy. Almost. With some gentle, understated percussion and a silkish delivery from Reader, it's a good return to form. But, as it turns out, it's wasted because 'Galileo (Someone Like You)' falls back into the same traps as the other tracks did. It's rambling both lyrically and musically, with little to salvage it on either count which has not been heard at least half a dozen times before.

The closer and title track is a good choice, an ideal choice to sum up the album. It sees Reader completely at ease, contented with the niche she has carved for herself in her late-middle-age. Here the accordions return to the mix over the guitars to create some sort of musical motif to link this rather sprawling album. But, as we discover, it is not the end. The hidden track - 'The Calton Weaver or Nancy Whisky' - is a full-blown reel, a more down-to-earth version of the Irish reels which Peter Gabriel sampled on OVO (2000). It's catchy, very repetitive, and will make you want to arise from your place of rest and dance around your coffee table.

As a summary of Reader's later career - post-Burns, that is - Peacetime achieves its tasks. It does, with a few notable and overblown exceptions, synthesise her earlier 'ambient' folk with the Celtic tinges of her work in the 21st century. As on Eddi Reader, there are several points where Reader slips up or becomes downright self-indulgent, but these are the outright minority of cases. For the best part, Peacetime is a record that will sooth you through and through, calming the casual listener and providing enough meet for the devoted folkist. One criticism would be that the album is too long; then again, if you're not a music critic, you won't really want to care.

3.77 out of 5

Top 100 Albums - #75: Eddi Reader (1994)

Eddi Reader makes her first of two appearances on the chart which her self-titled second solo album, for which she won 'Best Female Singer' at the 1994 BRIT Awards.

Eddi Reader began her career with punk band Gang Of Four, leaving after their next tour of the US. After spending the next few years as a session vocalist, in 1984 she began to collaborate with guitarist Mark E. Levin. The two formed Fairport Convention with the help of acoustic bass (guitaron) player Simon Edwards and drummer Roy Dodds, and released an album, The First Of A Million Kisses (1988). After a No. 1 single in the shape of 'Perfect', a second album was planned but the band soon folded. Reader returned to Scotland to have her first child and try her hand at acting, before signing to RCA Records and releasing her solo debut, Mirmama (1992).

'The Right Place' opens the album gracefully, appropriately easing you into Reader's assuredly relaxed folk. Her decidedly Glaswegian voice fits serenely into the mix against both the violins and acoustic guitar. The lyrics are also part of a greater soundscape, like so many female vocalists. The occassional lines slip out and make a stand - Five or ten lifetimes ago/ They lived a girl that you don't know/ She walked about and answered to my name - but in general Reader focuses on the music. In this instance, this pays off well and you end up with a fine example of easy-listening folk, complete with great doubletracked harmonies.

'Patience Of Angels' begans like a waltz overlaid with a catchy accordion part, and is more upbeat and attention-seeking. This has a Corrs-ish feel to it, which would normally do for even the best artists. But here the absence of meaning doesn't matter because Reader's delivery is so enchanting. The refrain is very well put together, and this feels like a complete product in the way that 'The Right Place' seemed a little loose. 'Dear John' scales things back to just Eddi and a guitar, creating a slightly haunting sound which would have been amplified more given some induced echo. Written about a break-up, this doesn't feel overdone or clichéd for, despite the addition of a string section halfway in, this is cancelled out by the accordian part at the end, creating a quaint little gem.

Things soon begin to go awry, I'm afraid. 'Scarecrow' opens with a tinny guitar riff which digs deep into soul and ties your brain in knots. It then meanders along for much too long, littered with jerky guitar parts and Reader's unwanted attempts at falsetto. She also provides an irritating, Beach Boys-style harmony that is deeply annoying. 'East Of Us' opens with her descending a scale and producing a vacuous noise of the kind that Mariah Carey is a certified professor of. All the accordian parts in the whole world can't salvage this humdrum effort. Thinking about it, neither could Ms. Carey.

Thankfully, before the temptation to switch off becomes too great, we come into 'Joke (I'm Laughing)'. This is a brighter number which despite its lyrics - which are both quirky and jerky - has some very good piano on it which justifies its place on the album. Indeed, some of the lyrics are quite intelligent, for instance the opening of the second verse: D'you hear the one about/ The one who fell from space/ One minute in the stars/ The next minute lyin' on their face. Again, Reader does come across a bit too much like one of the Corrs to achieve complete credibility, but this is easily the most jovial track on the album.

No sooner have I said that, when it is trumped by 'The Exception'. This song about fame and the grandiosity which it brings is very folky in that its lyrics are both earthy and have a wry, satirical bite. Lines like No pain, no gain, that's what they say/ And it's hard to disagree/ But I thought somehow they weren't including me slot perfectly into place, sticking to the subject matter without trying to be ostentious or over-metaphorical like many folk rockers do.

But if it's more the loving crooner that you crave, then you need 'Red Face Big Sky'. Despite its decidedly ill-fitting title, this features glorious harmonies which are almost whispered or breathed to instantly soothe you. These in turn provide the perfect foil to Reader's vocal workout. Throw in some sensitive drumming, emotive piano and subtle bass and you have a winner.

'Howling In Ojai' is the last track to truly fall short (in more ways than one), considering the expectations set by the previous three tracks. Not only is it too brief at only 1:29, but it's also another Carey-style, self-indulgent workout which could pass off as awful world music. Instead, to the more discerning listener, this is a middle-aged Scottish lady wailing stupefying to some embarrassing guitar. Thankfully, this is quickly over, and I am reminded of the immortal words of The Muppets: "Just when you think the show is terrible, something wonderful happens." "What's that?" "It ends."

'While I Watch You Sleeping' has a lead over the other tracks because it provides a hook on the guitar. Reader crafts a delightful riff which is well-suited both to her yearning vocals and the brushes lingering in the background. This is a great 'darkness' song - i.e. one that will influence you a lot more if you listen to it in the dark. Reader here has achieved a great balance of vocal restraint and instrumental prowess. Without letting either dominate, she creates the most underrated track on the album.

'Wonderful Lie' switches to exotic means of percussion as an alternative way to get you interested. And while it may not have been wise to group these with 1980s-style keyboards, you do shuffle yourself slowly in your chair and take notice. There are three-part harmonies here that just (and I mean just) avoid being garish, and the electric guitar and drums are a little more imposing than before - which makes a nice change.

'Siren' is the closer, and it's a strange one. Not strange as the choice for the closer, oh no. The strange side of this is the song itself, which can't make up its mind over whether it's an acoustic Roxy Music ballad or a cabaret-esque passion song with a jazz fusion feel to it. The vocal parts are also a little unusual for Reader, whose delivery can become overly tired when her albums are overplayed. It's an intriguing piece, the difficult child of the album - it's hard to get used to, but it's an intelligent and experimental adventure once you do.

Depending on your view, it's either much easier or much harder to knock an album with the kind of plaudits which Eddi Reader has received. Critically speaking, it's her most consistently top-rated work, and even to the casual fan it has a feeling of completeness which many of her later albums did not (the follow-up, for instance, Candyfloss And Medicine (1996), is disastrously fractious). And to a extent the critics got it right. This has, to borrow someone else's phrase, "a certain je ne sais quoi that will have you going around hugging all your friends after the album's over."¹ Like all good Reader albums, this will send you into a state of complete relaxation and serenity. You won't be bored by it, you'll just want to sink into a comfy chair and forget about your worries. And in this world of speed and hyperactivity, any album that can make you want to sit still and relax is more than worthy of a place in the chart.

References
¹ Rick Anderson, 'Eddi Reader', http://www.allmusicguide.com/cg/amg.dll?p=amg&sql=10:difixqehldke. Accessed on August 5 2007.

3.75 out of 5