Label / Cat. No: Topic 12T150
First Released: 1966

What The Album Blurb Says…

Fred Jordan was born on January 5, 1922, at Ludlow, Shropshire. He is a farm labourer, living in the village of Aston Munslow, about seven miles from Ludlow. His house has a view of Corve Dale and the distant Clee Hills.

In 1952 Peter Kennedy, then working for the British Broadcasting Corporation, visited the area, and being told by the local blacksmith that Fred Jordan was a good singer, he recorded him for the BBC’s folk song archive. In the autumn of 1959, Fred attracted the attention of participants in the folk song revival when he appeared at the English Folk Dance and Song society’s festival wearing his everyday clothes – heavy boots, leggings and weather-defying hat. His singing drew immediate acclaim. Since then he has appeared with increasing regularity at concerts and clubs, with other country singers and also with revival performances. He enjoys concert and club work, where he sings with the straightforward ‘professionalism’ and unselfconsciousness common to most country singers.

As a folk singer he may be classed with the best – and that best includes Harry Cox, George Maynard and Phil Tanner. Though he is still a young man he has the essential style of this older generation. His musical sense is very highly developed; his ability to make small rhythmical changes to suit the words of songs is marked and his use of melodic ornament is subtle and skilful. the quality of his voice may seem strange at first hearing, but it is not unique, and there is nothing here of an old man’s quaver, for Fred Jordan is in his prime.

In performance, he inclines to let his personality retire behind the song, in the true manner of traditional singers. He sings without change of facial expression, without physical mannerism. He performs Barbara Allen and The Old Armchair in precisely the same manner, in the straight-faced almost deadpan way that amateur singers still adopt in town pubs where they stand up to give out with I’ll Take You home Again, Kathleen.

Fred Jordan acknowledges three main sources for his songs: first his parents (his mother came from Warwickshire, his father comes from Leeds); second the travellers and gypsies who frequent the district; last, his acquaintances in the countryside. In his own mind he distinguishes between what he now calls ‘proper folk songs’, music-hall songs, and the arranged versions of folk songs that he learned at school.

All the songs on this record are found up and down the country in one version or another. Many are to be found in the classic folk song collections. Others, of known authorship, the pops of yesteryear, have taken their place alongside traditional songs in the folk singers’ repertoire on their merits of narrative and melody. Some of these are American in origin. The music-hall and touring show all played their part in widening the popular repertoire, and radio and gramophone records have also had their effect. This record shows the mixture of song types in the repertoire of a country singer in the 1960’s.

What I Say

Some of you will have seen ‘The Green Green Grass’, the spin-off series from ‘Only Fools & Horses’. If you have caught this show, then you have my deepest sympathy. Really. The premise, for those of you who haven’t seen it, is that Boycie, a second-hand car salesman from Peckham in South London, moves to the Shropshire countryside to avoid some shady underworld types, and what follows is a fish-out-of-water “comedy”. For anyone who lives within 100 miles of Shropshire, the biggest mystery is why do all the Shropshire characters dress like they live in the 1930s and speak with yokel Somerset accents. I mean, just look…

…and listen

Sorry to have to put you through that, but it just isn’t Shropshire. But Fred Jordan, now he’s the real deal…

What an unexpected gem we have here. I chose this album from my pending pile because I have spent the last week working on a farm not 10 miles from the Shropshire border – barn building, labouring and general jobbing. I believe this makes me supremely qualified to look at an album by a fellow man of the soil. Well, to be fair, I didn’t get that close to any actual soil, but still, Fred Jordan must be singing the songs that speak to my heart, mustn’t he?

Well, yes and no…. the title is a touch misleading – these aren’t songs about Shropshire farm workers, or even songs that Shropshire farm workers in general would sing. Instead, it’s a collection of songs sung by one Shropshire farm worker, namely Mr Jordan. I won’t go into details of Fred’s life here, because there are some excellent biographies around – try here for starters if you want to know more about the Fredster.

The songs aren’t even all about farming or the bucolic life. At least two of them are nautical in flavour, and Shropshire’s pretty far from the sea at the best of times.

But that’s of not matter. I can honestly say that this is unique in all the albums I’ve listened to – what we have is Fred Jordan. Nothing more, nothing less. No musicians, no backing singers, no accompaniment whatsoever. This album stands or falls on Fred Jordan’s voice, and it stands.

It stands as a period piece, it stands as a collection of English folk tunes sung by someone steeped in the folk tradition, and it stands as a collection of tunes by an accomplished singer. True, there are some vocal mannerisms which sound curious to our pop-soaked ears, and the starkness of hearing a single voice cut the silence takes some getting used to. But that also summarises the character of this album. It is raw, stripped back, nothing but the singer and the song, and to my jaded ears it made a very refreshing change. I can’t say that this is going to be a recurrent favourite on my playlists, but unlike a lot of what I plough through (see what I did there?), I’m more than happy to give this a second listen. Maybe even a third.

In looking for details of this album on this wonderful internet of ours, I was amazed to find that the Topic record label not only still exists, but is a beacon of independent labels, having been releasing albums now for 69 years. Go and have a look at their site to find out more, but any label that boasted John Peel as a fan must have something going for it.

Lovely jubbly.

Sorry.

Tracks

Side 1

1. We Shepherds Are The Best Of Men
2. The ship That Never Returned
3. Down the Road
4. We’re All Jolly Fellows that Follow The Plough
5. The Watery Grave
6. The Dark-Eyed Sailor
7. Three Old Crows

Side 2

1. John Barleycorn
2. The Banks Of Sweet Primroses
3. The Bonny Boy
4. Polly’s Father Lived In Lincolnshire
5. The Royal Albert
6. Down The Green Groves
7. The Farmer’s Boy

Final score:

8 out of 10

Label / Cat. No: Starline SRS 5134
First Released: Unknown – possibly early 70s

What The Album Blurb Says…

Robert Wilson was born in a Glasgow suburb in 1909 and from a very early age had the burning ambition to become a singer.

He first broke into the entertainment world when he bacame a memeber of a concert party at Rothsay, on the Isle of Bute. While savouring the applause that these rather small beginnings brought him, he had the good sense to realise that he needed years of study and hard work to reach the top of his chosen profession. To this end he joined and stayed with the D’Oyly Carte Opera Company for several years, touring America, Canada and Great Britiain, and from this he gained vast experience which was most valuable to his future career. In 1939 he decided that the time had come for him to enter the Variety scene as a solo artist – and how right his judgement proved to be. What with his magnificent voice, charming personality and superb stage presentation his success was almost immediate, and he soon became ‘top of the bill’ wherever he appeared. Not only was he starred in every medium of the entertainment world, but he was particularly acclaimed by exiled Scots both near and far who, like those in the Homeland, saw in his grand voice and fine physique the very embodiment of a true son of Scotland. No one wore the Kilt more proudly or better than he.

Much to the regret of all who heard him, Bob Wilson, as he was affectionately known to his many friends, died in 1964, but there remains a wealth of those great Scottish songs which he recorded during his lifetime and for which we have received many requests. The fourteen songs presented in this album illustrate why his was generally acclaimed to be “The voice of Scotland”.

T.D.

What I Say

There’s one thing that the Scots are very good at. Actually, before I get myself into trouble, I should point out that I’m sure that there are lots of things that Scots are good at. Lots and lots. Really. But one area in which they excel is being Scottish. I mean proper, professionally Scottish. How many ‘professional’ Welsh or Irish people can you think of? Max Boyce, Daniel O’Donnel, Terry Wogan maybe… People for whom one of their distinguishing features is their nationality. OK, now think of professional English people. I’ll give you Steven Fry, and I’ll accept David Niven, even though he’s dead. Any more…? No, see. And yet without putting any real effort into it, the Scots can proudly boast The Proclaimers, Billy Connolly, Moira Anderson, Harry Lauder, Sean Connery, Carol Smillie, and of course, the Krankies. OK, that may be stretching the definition of ‘proudly boast’, but I hope you get my point.

They say that the most Scottish part of Scotland is just over the border from England, where the difference between countries is clearly marked. Tartan and Saltires everywhere. It seems that the Scots have a very clear cultural identity, and the business nous to translate that into profitable entertainment. Our Robert Wilson (or Bob, as we must call him) falls strictly into this ‘Professionally Scottish’ category. You only have to look at the album cover to know what you’re getting. A burly man in a skirt, sorry, a kilt, his face red from the harsh highland wind rolling off the moors and the whisky he has on his porridge. His pose is also extremely Scottish, though I can’t quite figure out why. I assume it’s meant to reflect Bob about to launch into a Highland Fling – right hand tucked in his belt, left knee slightly raised. Tunic and tie making him look like a policeman about to knee some poor suspect in the knackers. Delightful.

And the songs don’t disappoint. Well, they do if you don’t like maudlin songs about your wet, dour homeland, but let’s assume for a moment that they’re the very reason you bought this album. The choice of songs is absolutely perfect. It’s ‘The Greatest Scottish Songs In The Whole World Ever’ for our parent’s generation. Some of the arrangements however are… well, on the camp side of traditional, shall we say. When I first listened to ‘Scotland The Brave’ (which you’d expect to be the standout track here), I was transported back to a Saturday evening in the 70s, with the Two Ronnies about to do their musical number dressed as a pair of Highland Infantrymen making suggestive songs about Gay Gordons. The arrangement is pure Ronnie Hazlehurst. Actaully, it is the standout track on the album, because it’s the only one that sounds vaguely happy or interesting. The rest conjure up a wet Wednesday in Aberdeen with incredibly clarity.

The problem is that I don’t think Bob sings very well. His voice, described elsewhere on this internet of ours as a ‘rich baritone’ sounds to my uneducated ears as a thin, weedy and reedy baritone. That doesn’t even always hold the tune particularly well. This album was released after he’d died. I have to wonder if it was also recorded then too….

This man was called ‘The Voice Of Scotland’ which is a bit worrying. I could accept ‘The Voice of Arbroath’ which would allow for bigger and better voices to represent the nation. So don’t judge the Scots too harshly. Though I do wonder who’s the ‘Ears of Scotland’.

However, I do have one small niggle. From 1997 to 1999 I lived in Galway, and I’m sure, absolutely positive that it was on the West Coast of Ireland, and not in Scotland. It seems therefore that this song is an IMPOSTER, and should be removed immediately. Unless they’re playing the Celtic card, in which case of course, everything is fair game.

By the way, our Bob Wilson, is not this Bob Wilson, one time goalie for Arsenal…

Nor is he this Bob Wilson, who’s an English Lecturer, and posessor of one of the finest hair confections known to man…

And this is the Krankies. I think the Scottish Government should apologies immediately.

Tracks

Side 1

1. Westering Home
2. Scotland The Brave
4. Down In The Glen
5. Bonnie Mary Of Argyle
6. Marchin’ Thru’ The Glen
7. The Black Watch

Side 2

1. The Gay Gordons
2. The Road To The Isles
3. Hills O’ The Clyde
4. Galway Bay
5. My Love Is Like A Red, Red Rose
6. The Gathering Of The Clans
7. My Scottish Homeland.

Final score:

4 out of 10

Label / Cat. No: Cambrian MCT 219
First Released: 1972

What The Album Blurb Says…

Maralene Powell made her first record as a solo artiste. Her second recording was in comapny with Gareth Edwards who for a brief moment exchanged the rugby field for the sound studio.

In this, her first album, Maralene presents a collection of songs which are as varied in subject as they are melodic in nature.

Family music at the fireside has been usurped in past decades by radio and television, but these technical wonders are now commonplace and making one’s own music is becoming a rediscovered pleasure. This is indeed a talented family for in this record Maralene is joined by her brother and sister, Aubrey and Denise and her brother in law – John. The quiet mid Wales valley of Pantydwr must often echo to their songs.

“Amazing Grace” cannot be too frequently recorded for each singer brings something new to the listener. The Gentlemen Songsters who join Maralene in this version with such effect are too well known to need introduction. “Morning has Broken” is an old melody which lingers in the mind long after the echoes have died away.

This is a collection of ballads and folk songs, some old and some new. “Love is Teasing” is from the distant past while “Deportee” underlines how cheaply human life is sometimes held in the modern world.

Together they are a collection without a theme – unless what ordinary people feel and experience is thematic. Maralene is already well known on record and in concert, but this is the first recording of the Four P’s and it must widen even further their circle of admirers.

What I Say

In light of the fact that the Taffs had a lucky victory on Saturday, I thought it only right we should look at one of their countryfolk for today’s outing. And so we have the lovely Maralene Powell, a farmer’s daughter from Pantydwr in Radnorshire. I’m not sure Radnorshire even exists any more, though there is a pub just a stone’s throw from here called the Radnorshire Arms. See, a little background colour for you there.

Although it’s ostensibly a Maralene album, the full title is Just For You – Maralene Powell and the Four P’s sing a selection of folk and country songs for your pleasure. And I thought Script For A Jester’s Tear was enough of a mouthful. These ‘Four P’s’ confuse me though. There’s a picture of them on the front, matching Salmon pink tops, flares armed and dangerous, and rolling Welsh landscape behind. And I think Maralene is one of the Four Ps. It certainly looks like her, and the sleeve notes refer to how Maralene is “joined by her brother and sister, Aubrey and Denise and her brother in law – John”. That makes three other people, Maralene being the fourth. So why is it Maralene AND the Four Ps. Surely it’s either ‘The Four Ps’ or ‘Maralene and the Three Ps’. Surely Maralene is being counted twice. I shouldn’t let it bother me, but this is exactly the kind of thing that keeps me awake at night.

I’ve just noticed that on the back of the album it says it’s called ‘Maralene Powell with the Four “P’s” and the Gentlemen Songsters present a selection of Folk and Country songs for your pleasure.. Seems like everybody’s getting in on the credits. Good job they didn’t put that on the cover of the album, or there wouldn’t have been enough room for that lovely picture of Maralene looking foxy.

The songs are a bit of an odd mix. Understandably, given the nature of the Welsh, there are a few religious songs on here – ‘Tramp On The Street’ stood out for likening the treatment of Jesus to the death of an unloved Tramp. On The Street. A strange comparison to make, but at least I remembered it! Amazing Grace is handled well, and the Male Voice Choir, sorry, the ‘Gentlemen Songsters’ make sure you know this is a Welsh record. But the version of Morning Has Broken struck me as a little… off. The pianist and the guitarist seemed hesitant, and not quite sure when to come in to best compliment the vocals. It leads me to believe (though I may be completely wrong) that the song was recorded ‘live’ in the studio.

I do have a few concerns though with the choice of songs. We have an album created by someone with great potential and a good voice, but the songs just don’t seem to do Maralene justice.

Firstly, there is a tendency on this side of the Atlantic to believe that Country songs hold some meaning for us. They don’t. Really. It’s nice to listen to, and I’ve learned over the last few years to love Country music, but there is something so very wrong about a singer from North Wales telling me about her Louisiana home, and how the cotton crop has done this year. I’m not saying you have to stick to what you know and sing about daffodils and leeks, but there is only a certain degree of credulity I can muster, and it stops short of believing you’re a prairie flower.

What causes me more of a worry are the two songs that start side two – ‘Love Is Teasing’ and ‘I Will Never Marry’ – they both carry the same message, which is that men are feckless bastards who will get what they want from you, then cast you aside. You can’t trust them, so don’t waste your time on them. I shant comment further, only to suggest that maybe Maralene had one or two boyfriend issues at the time….? Mere speculation….

We also have a rendition of ‘Nobody’s Child’, a song last seen on Tony Best – By Request, and of such awful sludgy sentimentality that it makes me nauseous just to think about it. It’s a song about how the narrator goes to an orphanage and finds a blind boy who nobody wants (because he’s blind, obviously), and how said blind orphan believes he’d be better off dead because at least in Heaven he’d be able to see. This really is the most unpleasant song I think I’ve heard since No Charge. Yes, it’s really that bad.

The record is released on Cambrian Recordings, a label I hadn’t come across at all before, and one that has a strong Welsh pedigree, boasting Max Boyce and Mary Hopkin as signed artists.

Maralene’s voice is rather lovely. It has that pure, clean tone that was so favoured in folk circles in the 60s and 70s. That may however have been her downfall in that while the voice is technically good, it doesn’t ( to my ears at least) stand out above the other recording artists of the time. There’s absolutely nothing wrong with it – in fact, there’s a lot to commend it, but it lacks that distinctive edge that could elevate it into wider public recognition.

Equally, the album doesn’t have a focus – had it been an album of religious songs or an album of standards, it might have fared better, but it seems to lack identity as one or the other, and so ends up a bit of a hodge podge. That’s not to say I won’t be listening to it again. But you can be sure I’ll be skipping Nobody’s sodding Child.

Tracks

Side 1

(This is, by the way, the first album that I have ever seen that listed it’s tracks a, b, c.)

(a) Amazing Grace
(b) Morning Has Broken
(c) See That Little Boy
(d) Deportee
(e) There But For Fortune
(f) Tramp On The Street

Side 2

(a) Love Is Teasing
(b) I Never Will Marry
(c) Nine Hundred Miles
(d) Country Girl
(e) Cotton Fields
(f) Nobody’s Child

Final score:

6.75 out of 10

Label / Cat. No: EMI Music For Pleasure MFP 1276
First Released: This compilation 1968

What The Album Blurb Says…

Paddy Roberts is a large man with a quiet voice and a gentle manner that belie his ironic but dangerously sharp sense of humour. In his time he’s been a divorce lawyer, a club pianist, an airline pilot and a ’song plugger’, but we all know him now as the singer, in a voice with an appealing tendency to go off-key, or some of the wittiest and wickedest songs ever to entrench themselves in the hit parade.

Born in a remote part of South Africa in the year the King Edwared VII died, Paddy was sent to England for his schooling, but returned to South Africa where after graduating he took up a law practice, “making a speciality of undefended divoce cases”. But he had started to write songs at university, and when the opportunity arose he worked his passage on a sailing ketch to Britain, where he landed with 30/- in his pocket. Taking on odd jobs to keep himself, he began his assault on the British song industry. He was first heard on the BBC in a series called ‘Songs You Might Never Have Heard’. As a member of a vocal group featured on the show, the ‘Tin Pan Alley Trio’, he was beginning to make finacial progress when war broke out.

During the war, Paddy flew with the R.A.F. across the Atlantic. to Russia, in the Western Desert and with Coastal Command, and when peace came he became a transatlantic pilot for B.O.A.C. But in 1950 he returned to song writing, and reached the number on spot in 1954 with ‘Softly, Softly’, which was recorded by Ruby Murray. Then he made the first of the records featuring his own singing of his more saucy songs which were to keep him at the top of the charts for months on end, and he rapidly became a top cabaret star. Since then he has been very busy with appearances throughout Britain, and he has been back to sing in South Africa, but he has also found time to work as vice-chairman of the Performing Rights Society and Chairman of the Song Writer’s Guild.

Here on a newly-recorded L.P., Paddy Roberts sings again the songs, spicy, sophisticated, some the slightest shade of blue, which have made his name a byword for wit and entertainment. Starting with that classic tale of our time, ‘The Ballad of Bethnal Green’, these songs will stimulate the most jaded spirits, and bring a wry smile to the most world-weary lips.

What I Say

This album came as a complete surprise, and a pleasant one at that. Judging by the cover (as I always do), I’d assumed that the lewdly winking totty and the ‘For Adults Only’ subtitle would have put it in the same category as this half remembered album from my childhood…

But no! Not even close. Paddy Roberts provides us with lyrically dense songs, in a traditionally Britishly witty manner that can only really be described as whimsical, or perhaps quaint. No, I’ll stick with whimsical.

This is curiously British stuff in the arrangements and delivery, even if Paddy is himself a South African. After all, if that all-English icon Sid James can be South African, so can Paddy.

I can still remember the day when I first heard Tom Lehrer. Actually that’s a bit of a lie, because I couldn’t give you an exact date if you were to get aggressive and press me for one. But it must’ve been late 1987 or early 1988. I was given a third or fourth generation copy of ‘An Evening Wasted’ and ‘That Was The Year That Was’ by a much older colleague, and it opened my eyes to how ‘unfashionable’ music could really tickle my fancy. We had intelligent lyrics, pastiche tunes and unashamedly bad puns. It was wonderful. My mother certainly approved, and even asked for her own copies….

…which makes me wonder why she waited a further 17 years to tell me about Jake Thackray. If ever there was a direct line between styles, then this was it. OK, so Jake was steeped in the French ‘chanson’ tradition, and didn’t have the sharp political / satirical edge of Tom Lehrer, but there was the same tunefulness, lyrical dexterity and humour in both.

Paddy Roberts reminds me a great deal of Jake Thackray, both in the structure of his songs, lyrical content and style. I can see a musical family tree that descends from Gilbert and Sullivan’s ‘Patter’ songs, through Noel Coward, Paddy, Tom and Jake through to Benny Hill, back into rock sensibility with Ian Dury and finally someone like Eminem. Fine, call me pretensious if you like but a) I bet nobody else has compared Eminem to Gilbert and Sullivan, and b) the volume of lyrics crammed into song, the humour, the wordplay the linguistic dexterity are all comparable. Remember, you heard it here first.

The suggestion that this album is in any way rude or ‘for adults only’ is laughable today. I’m not sure that even when this compilation was released in 1968 his work would have been considered risque. It’s definitely from a different era, and there is one repeated ‘bloody’ in ‘L’anglais Avec Son Sang Froid’ which would have shocked my Grandfather, so maybe he was considered a bit wild. But the adult themes are so gently alluded to that unless you’ve got a filthy mind, I’m sure you could have played these to your maiden aunt with the minimum of censorship. For example, allow me to present to you the lyrics to ‘Love In A Mist’:-

When I was a little wolf cub and you were a brownie,
We always remembered our good turn each day.
First it was your turn, and then it was my turn,
And life was so wonderful and carefree and gay.

©1959 Essex Music

See, not exactly hardcore now, is it. Obviously some of the stuff reflects the era in which it was recorded, and the gentle mockery of homosexuality in ‘The Lavender Cowboy’ seems out of place now, but I suppose you have to look at the album in the context of the era in which the songs were written. It seems odd now, but I’m sure modern life would’ve seemed odd to Paddy.

My only real complaint about this album is that ‘The Belle of Barking Creek’ is almost identical to his most famous number ‘The Ballad of Bethnal Green’ – check out the soundclips below to see what I mean. He’s not doing anything that countless others have done since in terms of finding a formula that works and sticking to it, but coming to his music fresh and hearing the two side by side, it just seems… lazy I suppose.

But I can’t possibly hold it against a man who released an album called ‘Songs For Gay Dogs’. What, you don’t believe me?

Tracks

Side 1

1.The Ballad Of Bethnal Green
2. Follow Me
3.Love In A Mist
4. Country Girl
5. The Big Dee-Jay
6. I Love Mary
7. Why Did It All Begin?

Side 2

1.The Belle Of Barking Creek
2. The Tattooed Lady
3. Don’t Upset The Little Kiddywinks
4. Love Isn’t What It Used To Be
5.The Lavender Cowboy
6.L’anglais Avec Son Sang Froid
7. What’s All This Fuss About Love?

Final score:

8.5 out of 10

Label / Cat. No: Sacred SAC 5064
First Released: 1972

What The Album Blurb Says…

SOUNDS OF FRESH WATERS are exciting new sounds from Merv and Merla Watson, two remarkable musicians, well-trained and refreshingly creative. The music from this husband-wife team is a rare find in its up-to-date lyrics and original sounds that communicates with any audience.

Merv and Merla are not like some folk singers you’ve heard. They have a different drive, an unusual commitment to their music and its message. The songs they sing are a part of them, for they have spent many long hours in composing, scoring, searching for the right words to please their audiences across their native Canada and the United States.

Merla is accomplished as a vocalist, pianist and violist. In 1962 she toured the Middle East as soloist with the Canadian Broadcasting Corporation concert party entertaining U.N. troops. Merv, outstanding with the guitar and accordion, is a graduate of the University of Toronto and has taught music in the Toronto schools. Together the two originated the idea of the Schoolhouse Concerts in Toronto to stimulate interest in the performing arts as a means of Christian witnessing.

The concert series met with immediate success, as did Merv and Merla, as they sang their own folk music at each concert. Recognition for the two came quickly and they began touring with their folk-gospel music, receiving acclaim for their ability. Audiences everywhere responded enthusiastically to their music that moves naturally, uninhibited by tradition or boundaries.

This album is their finest work, sounds and feelings that are jubilant, some haunting in the contemplation of God, others crystal clear in lyric, all fresh and new, a symbol of their faith.

What I Say

I don’t think I’ve ever met or known of anyone called Merla. To my 30something English ears, there’s a certain exotic ring to the name. It conjures up 1950’s mid-west diners, gingham and bitter coffee. For all I know, it could have the same connotations as ‘Doris’ or ‘Mabel’ over here, but there is a certain glamour I can’t help but imagine.

The picture of Merla in a very 1972 dress with her racy gold shoes does nothing to dim my excitement. The only thing that can do that is to listen to the album.

I know that the job of the album blurb is to sell the album to the casual record browser, but you can’t help but wonder how they can promise so much and yet deliver so little. In the case of Merv and Merla, I had considered a line by line breakdown of their claims against the reality, but I can feel a rant coming on, and would need a couple of aspirin and a good long lie-down if I went down that route.

But there are four key issues that I think do need to be addressed:-

1. The up-to-date lyrics reflect a two-millenia old system of religious beliefs. Not the most up-to-date now, is it?
2. Communicates with any audience? Surely that’s the point of an audience, or am I missing something here?
3. Merla is “accomplished as a vocalist, pianist and violist”. So why picture her on the album cover holding a guitar, an instrument which you seem to be saying she wields with all the grace of a lump-hammer?
4. Merv is a graduate of the University of Toronto is he? In what subject? Zoology? Physics? What?

One other thing that bugs me is that poor Merla is relegated into second billing, even though alphabetically her name comes first, just. Is poor Merla just another victim of the misogyny of patriarchal society, or does ‘Merv and Merla’ just sound better than ‘Merla and Merv’? You decide.

The music itself is an odd blend. The album starts with a guitar sounding like a harpsichord, which leads into liturgical-influenced melody. It seems to be tripping over itself, but never quite falls.

At times this album conjured up 1960s Leonard Cohen (that’ll be the folk element then), and at other times, it reminded me of the soundtrack from ‘Hair’ (though being Christians, I kind of doubt that Merv and Merla would be cavorting naked, covered in body paint during their “Schoolhouse Concerts”.) Some of it was quite Jewish in its influences, and it was only subsequently that I found out that Merv and Merla now reside in Israel.

There’s talk on that site of ‘Merla’s Miracle’, a book detailing how Merla defied the surgeon’s predictions after a ‘bizarre’ accident where a piano crushed her hand, and in fact did play professionally again. You will of course be pleased to know that in the cause of furthering my knowledge of the artists I present to you here, I have tracked down and purchased a copy of ‘Merla’s Miracle’, and I will of course let you know in due course what the book’s like.

The most bizarre track however is ‘The Time of The Singing Of The Birds’ in which Merv and Merla whoop, holler and tweet like a pair of demented magpies. Sadly this track jumps on my copy, meaning I can’t present it in it’s fullness. But thanks to the wonder and diversity of YouTube, I found that someone had used it to enhance some video of some birds.

So ladies and gentlemen, kick back, relax, and enjoy the freakish sound of Merv and Merla.

Tracks

Side 1

1.O Sing A New Song
2. Consider Him
3.The Time Of The Singing Of The Birds
4. Miracles
5.Hear My Prayer
6.Just Before Midnight

Side 2

1. I Will Sing
2. The Lord Is My Shepherd
3.It’s Gotta Be Great
4. In The Night
5. The Seed Of Joy
6. Grace Be To You And You

Final score:

5.75 out of 10

Label / Cat. No: Telstar STAR 2293
First Released: 1986

What The Album Blurb Says…

None, sadly. I’ve never thought about why or when the sales pitch on the back of record sleeves declined, but I doubt you’d find many from about 1983 onwards. Are we too knowing now to be swayed by hyperbole from paid critics? Is music so compartmentalised into tiny sub-divisions of genre that we can’t just buy a ‘jazz’ album or a ‘swing’ album, and have a fair chance of enjoying it?

Or was it simply that people got wise to the fact that the glowing praise plastered across the back of almost every album bore little or no relation to the contents of the disc?

Maybe my new year resolution should be to form a pressure group to advocate the reinstatement of album blurb.

Or maybe not.

What I Say

Oh dear, oh dear, oh dear. I had really wanted to enjoy this album. After all, I do have a real affection for Chas & Dave. And Christmas. I quite like Christmas too. Put them together, and you should have a winner, and yet this combination is so much less than the sum of its parts.

As far as I can make out, there are three elements that should make up this record. The Cockney musical stylings of Messrs Charles and David, the traditional brass ensemble of the Cambridge Heath Salvation Army Band, and a number of good old fashioned carols. Put them together in any combination and you’re onto a sure fire, 24-carat gold winner. Surely there can be no doubt, and yet…

This is probably best explained through the medium of the Venn diagram. Allow me, if you will…

What saddens me is that this is a missed opportunity, a fudge if you will. Chas & Dave are (despite initial impressions) talented musicians. After all, Chas was taught to play piano by Jerry Lee Lewis. They’ve been sampled by Eminem, and covered by Tori Amos on more than one occasion. These boys have the potential to compete at a world-class standard. Their ‘Cockney Rock’ or ‘Rockney’ as I believe they call it, is a distinct style which deserves its place in the English Folk-Music pantheon.

But this isn’t a ‘Rockney’ album. It’s a Salvation Army album with a bit of Dave’s Bass Guitar over the top of traditional brass band arrangements, and a bit of pub-rock drumming for good measure. Nothing more.

I suppose that Chas & Dave fans would buy the album because it’s got Chas & Dave on it, and Salvation Army fanatics (of which I’m sure there must be a few, though I wouldn’t like to imagine Salvation Army Band groupies) won’t be too alarmed by what is a fairly traditional Carol with Chas Hodges gruff vocals replacing those of the more traditional angelic choirboy. If it came to punch up, my money would be on Chas & Dave over Aled Jones any day.

This is not to say that there isn’t some value in this album. Firstly, I’m intrigued by the cartoon character cover. This isn’t the only Chas & Dave album that’s been done in cartoon style. Was this part of a mid-80s ploy to try and create a Chas & Dave animated series? Can you imagine how redundant the Simpson’s would have been had we been graced with ‘The Adventures of Chas & Dave’? It’s not too late, people. Together we can make this happen.

And there are moments of sheer oddity – Chas & Dave, the beer-swilling terrors of the East End singing medieval yuletide songs? Listen to Coventry Carol, and you’ll see what I mean – we’re only short of a couple of ‘Hey Nonny Nonnies’ and we’d be laughing. And that gives me an idea. ‘The Time Travelling Adventures of Chas & Dave’. It would be like Dr. Who, but with a pair of lovable Cockneys, solving problems through time and space with a knees-up round the old joanna. Really. Write to the BBC and demand that your license fee is used to commission this programme.

And just once or twice you can tell the boys are just itching to bash the piano keys and stomp their feet. The bass gets a bit more twitchy, Chas’ vocals start to run away with him, but we never quite achieve the breakthrough. The first part of ‘Good Christian Men Rejoice’ is pure Chas & Dave, and it works precisely because the Salvation Army keep their horns shut. When they do come in, they’re so low in the mix, I can’t help but wonder if the sound engineer on this album shared my misgivings. I was waiting for ‘The Rocking Carol’ to really see the boys let their hair down, but sadly it’s just a Carol with the refrain ‘We will rock you, rock you, rock you’ referring to the baby Jesus, rather than in a Queen way.

But my favourite part of the whole album is the very last song, ‘We Three Kings’. During the introduction, I’m pretty sure the drummer is so distracted, that he’s actually playing ‘Delilah’ by Tom Jones. Listen to it – you’ll see exactly what I mean. But it’s a shame I had to listen through 21 poor songs to find that gem.

So, a missed opportunity all round. Sad, but probably predictable. Which pretty much sums me up too!

And as an extra treat (and by way of an education to my overseas readers who probably don’t have the first clue what I’m blithering about), please find below a master-class in the Cockney style of music. Merry Christmas Everyone.

Tracks

Side 1

1. God Rest Ye Merry Gentlemen
2. Unto Us A Child Is Born
3. While Shepherds Watched Their Flocks
4. Long Long Ago
5. Good King Wenceslas Looked Out
6. Coventry Carol
7. Wassail Song
8. O Little Town Of Bethlehem
9. Hark The Herald Angels Sing
10. Good Christian Men Rejoice

11. Silent Night

Side 2

1. O Come All Ye Faithful
2. See Amid The Winter Snow
3. Yes Jesus Loves Me
4. It Came Upon The Midnight Clear
5. The Rocking Carol
6. In The Bleak Midwinter
7. The First Noel
8. Once In Royal David City
9. Away In A Manger
10. We Three Kings

Final score:

4 out of 10

Label / Cat. No: World Wide Recordings BG 2932
First Released: 1970

What The Album Blurb Says…

On July 7, 1967, Billy Graham crossed the Yugoslav border above Trieste, en route to his first public meetings in Eastern Europe. We well remember the enthusiastic reception he received in Zagreb. During his EURO 70 Crusade, the evangelist “returned” to the same city when it joined 35 others to be linked with Dortmund’s Westfalenhalle, in Europe’s largest ever, closed circuit TV network.

Although Mr. Graham has not yet visited Czechoslovakia, members of the team have taken his personal greetings to Christians there. They have confirmed my own conviction that God’s people in Eastern Europe can be more closely identified with those described in the Book of Acts than any others we have seen.

This record, introduced by Cliff Barrows leading congregational singing in Prague, captures something of the victorious spirit of these our fellow members of the Body of Christ. It is presented with the hope that it will encourage Western Christians to pray for them, as they pray for us, and thus strengthen the ties which bind our hearts in Christian love.

Dave Foster, Eurovangelism

What I Say

What an oddity we have to mark the “long-awaited” return of , a 1970 souvenir of Billy Graham’s tour to Europe. I have to admit something of a vested interest here, in that in 1984 I saw Billy at Ipswich Town Football Stadium where his doom mongering, predictions of an imminent nuclear war and obvious showmanship had the opposite effect on me than that intended.

For me, the most striking thing about this record is that half of the front cover is taken up with the stark warning “Phongraphic RECORD – DO NOT DROP OR CRUSH. KEEP AWAY FROM EXCESSIVE HEAT”. I’m not sure if Mr. Graham’s records are more prone to being dropped or crushed, but by 1970 I’m pretty sure most people with phonographic reproduction equipment were pretty au fait with vinyl handling techniques. I’m tempted to analyse further, but good taste and decency prevents me…

Anyway, first thing to note is that this ‘Billy Graham’ album contains no actual Billy Graham. Not a bit of it. The spoken introduction and final prayer are from his ‘music and program director’, Cliff Barrows. While I’ve got nothing against Cliff (well, apart from the fact that he made a film with Cliff Richard which would prejudice you against most people), you buy a Billy Graham album, you expect a bit of Billy action. I’m tempted to complain of false advertising here…

Cliff’s proselytizing bookends the musical content of the album, Christian music sung by a variety of Eastern European choirs and organisations. There’s some diversity here, from the almost but not quite Welsh stylings of the Prague Male Voice Choir, to the instrumental pieces which sound like the soundtrack to a piece of avant-garde Soviet animation.

However, my clear favourite by a country mile is the Bratislava Youth Ensemble. While the rest of the album provides foreign language versions of Western favourites or tunes embedded in Romantic folk, the Youth Ensemble are giving it large in a very 1970s Eastern European understated way. The songs are just that little bit more chirpy than the Wesleyan sounding hymns, and there’s the acoustic guitar, so beloved on Christian Youth Groups. During ‘Mary Magdalene’, there’s even a bass guitar, and you can tell that the bassist is just itching for an excuse to burst into ‘Jazz Oddysey’. Thirty seven years on, their exciting, youthful glee sounds like every other progressive Christian Youth Group of the last couple of generations, only in Slovak.

The rest of the album is…. curious. It’s like trying to watch ‘The Weakest Link’ in a language you don’t understand. You understand the format and the mechanics, but lack the comprehension. I have the tune of ‘What a Friend We Have In Jesus’ ingrained on my memory from years of Sunday School, but the novelty here is that it’s in Czech. Almost like a cover version. Which reminds me, I have an excellent version of ‘William, It Was Really Nothing’ by the Smiths sung in German. Nothing to do with Billy Graham, but then again, nor has this album really.

Tracks

Side 1

1. Greetings and congregational singing of Blessed Assurance (Cliff Barrows and congregation of Baptist Church, Prague)
2. Jerusalem The Golden (Baptist Choir, Bratislava) Slovak
3. His Eye Is On The Sparrow (Rumanian solo)
4. The Head That Once Was Crowned With Thorns (Male Voice Choir, Prague)
5. Mary Magdalene (Youth Ensemble, Bratislava) Slovak
6. Wonderful Name Of Jesus (Euro 70 Choir, Dortmund) German
7. Doxology (Male Voice Choir, Prague) Czech

Side 2

1. What A Friend We Have In Jesus (Male Voice Choir, Prague) Czech
2. Roll Jordan Roll (in English) (Male Voice Choir, Prague) Czech
3. This Little Light Of Mine (Unique Instrumental Duet) Czech
4. What Is He To You? (Youth Ensemble, Bratislava) Slovak
5. Surely Goodness And Mercy (Baptist Choir, Zagreb) Yugoslavia
6. Just As I Am (with final prayer by Cliff Barrows) (Baptist Choir, Bratislava) Slovak

Final score:

3 out of 10 for incomprehensible (to me) cover versions..

Label / Cat. No: World Record Club T877
First Released: Unknown – Probably Early 60s at latest

What The Album Blurb Says…

A man of the cloth seldom is able to take up a second occupation, yet it was as a singer, even more than as a Roman Catholic Priest that Father Sydney MacEwan was renowned. A Glaswegian born and bred, Father MacEwan studied at Glasgow University and at the Royal Academy of Music. This was followed by ecclesiastical training at the Pontifical Gregorian University, Rome.

On returning to Scotland he discovered that his fine tenor voice so suited to the fine ballads of the Highlands of Scotland, attracted the friendship and enthusiasm of John McCormack, the celebrated irish singer, himself a possessor of a Vatican awarded title – “Count”.

MacEwan, while specialising in Irish and Scottish folksong, also sang and recorded classical, and semi-classical art songs and took this repertoire to Canada, USA and Australia on special leave from his post, attached to Glasgow’s St. Andrews Cathedral.

This collection of songs presents a cross section of Father Sydney MacEwan’s favourite songs – from Scottish ballads to Stephen Foster and Handel.

What I Say

There is a theory that states that those of us unfortunate enough to spend the afterlife in the hot place with the guys with the pointy sticks, will find ourselves subjected to an incalculably malicious form of eternal torture, tailor made to draw out your own, personal nightmares. I had assumed that if such a place exists (and thankfully, I seriously doubt it…) I would end up spending all eternity melded, conjoined twin style, to a Roman Catholic priest.

However, on listening to this album, I have revised my opinion to suggest that my own personal hell would be to spend all eternity melded, conjoined twin style, to this Roman Catholic priest.

But it was the very priestly nature of the man that drew me to this album in the first place. Perhaps I should explain, but when selecting which albums to review, I take absolutely no notice of conventional wisdom, and judge the contents almost exclusively by the cover. The more creepy, dated, ugly, posed, vulgar or bizarre the album is, the more likely I am to pick it up and give it a whirl. My decision is probably 90% based on how much the cover made me laugh. Or squirm. Or vomit.

But sometimes, it’s the concept that sells it. I defy anyone who comes across an album called ‘Father Sydney MacEwan Sings Some Of His Favourites’ to pass it by without a second glance. It can’t be done. You have to know. And then you get sucked in, and find that you’re paying hard cash to take this delight away with you, to take it home, to play it….

I’m constantly amazed at what good condition these records are in. They’ve obviously been kicking around for 40 or 50 years, and yet they generally seem to be scratch free and in nearly mint condition. People have cherished these albums, and I wouldn’t be surprised if each and every one had a prized place in someone’s collection, only to be dumped, wholesale down the charity shop when they died. Somebody, sometime in the past was so enamoured with Father Sydney MacEwan (or at least his voice – having searched on the internet, he wasn’t much to look at) that they went and bought this album.

And it’s shite. Really. Dreadful, dreadful shite. I don’t even care that he’s a Roman Catholic priest. I wouldn’t buy this if it were recorded by my mate Dave. It’s just awful.

In the interests of fairness, I should probably qualify this. I’m sure that technically his voice is wonderful, and again, from what I found on this wonderful internet of ours, he was a fairly harsh self critic, and stopped recording aged 50 when his voice had “lost its bloom”.

I can only assume then, that he made this album when he was 70.

I like to think I have fairly catholic tastes (see what I did there) when it comes to music. I’ll listen to pretty much anything and try and find some merit. But this really isn’t my kind of music. Maudlin old Scots singing maudlin Scottish songs in a warbly tenor? Just doesn’t push my buttons I’m afraid. He sounds to my uneducated ears like the guy who sits in the corner of the pub, nursing his whisky, and sings, unbidden, at the end of every Saturday night in the hope that one of the regulars will buy him a drink.

But at least that guys got passion. These songs are delivered in a manner so devoid of emotion that I wonder if they really were his favourites. I mean, I have no singing voice. Really. I tend to sing through my nose (which is a good trick if you can pull it off (the trick, not the nose that is)), so I shouldn’t be criticizing others. However….. when I sing some of my favourites, I give them my all. Passion, vigour, showmanship, the works. I can’t picture old Sydney even bothering to stand up to sing.

And the arrangements of the songs? It’s either Father Sydney and a lone guitarist or Father Sydney and a lone pianist. Not a banjo in sight which, after last week, is a bit of a disappointment. There’s just not enough variation to make this interesting.

But, the biggest disappointment, the cruelest blow, is that “I Dream of Jeannie” was not the theme from the TV show of the same name, but some dirge about a girl he once loved (yeah, right) with light brown hair who looks like a zephyr or something.

In short, avoid. Really.

TracksSide 1
Beautiful Dreamer
I Dream Of Jeannie
In Summertime On Bredon
Ye Banks And Braes
Home Sweet Home
Silent WorshipSide 2

Where E’er You Walk
Kashmiri Song
Little Boy Blue
Gentle Annie
Maiden Of Morven
In Praise Of Islay

Final Score

1 out of 10 – Just for suckering me in with the promise of ‘I Dream Of Jeannie’. Doo do do doo de doo do, doo do do doo de doo do…..

I also think I should be congratulated on not making a quip about John McCormack’s Vatican awarded title.

Label / Cat. No: Embassy WLP 6030
First Released: 1961

What The Album Blurb Says…

Anchors aweigh! Splice the mainbrace! For the Riverboat Banjo Band is about to be launched – and you’ll really go overboard about the tunes they’ve decided to play.

Yes, as nautical a crew of strumming chaps have never made such a happy-go-lucky voyage. Welcome aboard. First-class accommodation only, and a guaranteed smooth passage for all.

The Riverboat Banjo Band really make you feel you’re having a carefree, away-from-it-all time. Why not sit comfortably amidships and relax?

Boats and banjos have a long association now. You can look first at the old Mississippi paddle boats that went out from New Orleans. Southern belles were serenaded against a background sound of churning paddle wheels by the banjo which raised its sometimes plaintive, always pleasing, melody above the noise.

Then came the time when the banjo was a more exclusive instrument. At least, there were just two in a boat. A girl reclining on the cushions of a drifting punt, a man strumming his banjo between spells of poling.

Today, we get the best of both worlds.

There are some tunes that seem to have been written for the banjo; they have that something extra at the nimble hands of the banjo-player. That’s certainly how it sounds here. A dozen of the banjoest tunes you could ever imagine, played at a fair turn of knots by a blue riband crew of banjoists.

Listen to them and you can well understand why the banjo is enjoying such a return to popularity. It is happy music, all-pals-together music that could change a hornpipe into a twinkletoe quickstep, that could even make the Ancient Mariner forget his years.

All we ask as you play it, don’t have your friends all dancing to starboard as the Riverboat Banjo Band sets sail. Your turntable could well turn turtle. So, indeed, could your dancers.

Which would be a pity, because before the riverboat drops anchor, there is a cargo of happy memories to be shared, and a tidal wave of warm, flowing melodies to enjoy.

Take a trip with the Riverboat Banjo Band and you’ll be wanting the same, sparkling voyage again and again.

What I Say

OK, let’s get this out of the way. Any album that features the sleeve notes “a girl reclining on the cushions of a drifting punt, a man strumming his banjo between spells of poling…” is going to get my vote every time. Such an evocative picture, and so unintentionally funny when viewed in a somewhat less innocent era.

But I should start with the sleevenotes rather than the sleeve or the music, because they are so wonderful. Obviously, the junior writer who was given this commission picked up on the supposed nautical theme and really ran with it. After all, they start “Anchors aweigh! Splice the mainbrace!” Now I’m no nautical cove, and even I know that a paddlesteamer or riverboat is propelled by a steam driven waterwheel, and not by sails, therefore making a mainbrace redundant. I’m sure I’ll be corrected now by somebody far more educated in these ways than I am, but I still stand by my argument that whoever wrote these notes was stretching an already tenuous link.

Again, I’ll concede that banjos and riverboats might go together in popular culture, but banjos and punts? I return to our gentleman strumming and poling (and all in front of a young lady too – shocking). I’ve been punting, I know how difficult it can be, and I can tell you from personal experience, if I’d had to pick up a banjo and give it a quick strum between strokes, I would have become pretty disillusioned with the whole affair very quickly.

Our valiant writer does his (or indeed her) best to try and make the banjo sound interesting and desirable, but gives themselves away by saying that the banjo is enjoying “such a return to popularity” Clearly at this stage it had been properly unpopular for, oooh, about 80 years I’d suggest. And with good reason too. After all, the banjo is not the most serious instrument in the pantheon of music makers. It’s the hyperactive young cousin of the guitar, useful for novelty songs, but little else.

This is abundantly clear on this album. When they stick to stomping banjo tunes, you can almost forgive these men for learning to play in the first place. OK, so it’s not to my taste, but I can see how you’d be caught up with the foot tapping revelry that they suggest.

The album opens with a perfect banjo styled opening , and we start with a proper footstomper.

Sadly though, by the time we get to Moonlight Bay, the second song, they’ve overstretched themselves. Two cardinal sins have been committed – firstly, the song is slow and tries to convey emotion other than light hearted wackiness. Secondly, the banjo takes over a vocal melody, which it clearly wasn’t designed to do. It sounds like an octogenarian Italian crooner. Or at least what I assume an octogenarian Italian crooner would sound like.

But with the next two songs we hit the motherlode. The banjos find themselves with their natural bedfellows: The trombone and the muted trumpet. The three pariahs of the orchestra sitting at the back of the class, causing mischief. They rattle along at a fair old pace, and after racking my brain as to what they reminded me of, I realised that either of them could be used by the Two Ronnies as the accompaniment to their musical number at the end of the show. Yes, they’re so good, they could have been written by Ronnie Hazlehurst himself.

Yes Sir, That’s My Baby is an odd one. It has vocals. Yes, I know. Vocals. On a banjo album. How dare they? Close harmony male and female combo vocals at that. If I didn’t know better, I’d say it was The Brian Rogers Connection from 3-2-1 (or almost any ITV light entertainment programme from the late 70s). Sorry if you’d only just managed to wipe the horror that was ‘The Brian Rogers Connection’ from your mind.

The last couple of tracks on side one are more middle of the road banjo type ramblings. There’s only so much I can about banjos, considering I know so little about them. In ‘You Are My Sunshine’ the banjo and muted trumpet take turns to replace the lead vocal line. As you know, I believe that the banjo substituting vocals is an abhorrent mockery of nature, whereas the trumpet sounds great. To have the two together makes for a real sweet and sour experience. And then Side one ends, as it opened, with an absolute benchmark of the style. Top that, Radiohead.

The big let down of this album is that after the stunning highs and soaring lows of Side A, the B side is just…. competent. It’s more of the same really, shuffles and stomps, redeemed only by the fact that someone, somewhere decided to rhyme ‘paddling’ with ‘Madelaine’ to come up with ‘Paddlin’ Madelin’ Home’. This would have been a stroke of genius if it had been a vocal track, but as it’s just a bunch of banjos playing, you might as well have called it “Oof, my Piles are playing up something rotten.” So really, they’re letting the side down (pun fully intended. Sorry”

Tracks

Side 1
Row, Row, Row
Moonlight Bay
On The Mississippi
I’m Sitting On Top Of The World
Yes Sir, That’s My Baby
How Ya Gonna Keep ‘Em Down On The Farm
You Are My Sunshine

Side 2

If You Knew Suzie
For Me And My Gal
He’d Have To Get Under
Don’t Fence Me In
Beer Barrel Polka
Somebody Stole My Gal
Paddlin’ Madelin’ Home

Final Score

7.75 out of 10

(It would have got 6 out of 10 just for the phrase “A dozen of the banjoest tunes….”)