Alasdair Roberts, Neil McDermott & Tartine de clous – Au Cube
Okraina Records – 27 November 2018
One of the wonderful things about working within the idiom of folk music is that there are opportunities for two or more cultures or traditions to come together in a live setting, in a spirit of collaboration, openness and improvisation that leaves all parties richer. Occasionally that spirit approaches something like alchemy, a fusion of disparate parts that results in a form of music that is wholly new or rapturous or unexpectedly moving. Rarely, that captivating moment is captured on record.
On Au Cube, Scottish singer and guitarist Alasdair Roberts, Glasgow-based instrumentalist and aficionado of Breton music Neil McDermott and French traditional group Tartine de Clous come together to create just such a moment. The record’s apotheosis comes in its penultimate track, La Mère Cruelle. As The Cruel Mother, it is a familiar traditional song to British audiences. Here it becomes something unique: Roberts, his voice unmistakable as always, sings the verses in English, while the refrain is taken up in French by the rest of the group. It sounds simple, and perhaps in a studio setting it would be less impressive. But live it becomes a masterpiece of the art of collaboration. You can hear centuries of musical heritage meeting, joyously informing each other, parting on the happiest of terms. It is a glimpse, condensed through the prism of the Cube’s intimate space in Bristol, of the way in which music grows over time, a short, exhilarating essay on the forming and flowing of tradition, and most importantly a statement about the necessity for cross-cultural creativity.
And indeed the whole record functions as a buoyant rebuke of musical conservatism, a reminder of how traditional music can be a signifier not of cultural insularity but of mutability and variety. The set is sprinkled with songs from a range of sources, including three songs by Roberts, all from the early part of his career. Cyclone’s Vernal Retreat and Year Waxing, Year Waning are taken from 2001’s The Night is Advancing, an album Roberts recorded as Appendix Out. The former is earthy, almost primal, and full of strange vocal noises like things popping into life. The latter is more sedate: it is both ethereal and connected to the earth. With the massed voices the refrain becomes a kind of incantation. You can hear the weirdest aspects of tradition seeping into the song, as the song in return becomes part of the tradition. I Fell In Love, originally from 2003, is more personal and reflective, and shows off Roberts’ inimitable guitar playing. The eerie backing vocals recall the Incredible String Band while the lyrics are inspired by songs like Binnorie (or Bows Of London, or The Two Sisters – some of its many names), in which a harp (or sometimes a fiddle) is made from the bones and hair of a murdered woman.
Amongst the other English-language songs are a version of Anne Briggs’ Go Your Way, a beautiful song of parting and yearning, and the sad, tender ballad Rosie Anderson. French takes centre stage on four of the songs ( five if you include La Mère Cruelle): there is a wonderful performance of the well-known folk song Brave Marin. Tout En Me Promenant (which I believe is the French equivalent of our ‘As I Walked Out…’ songs) makes for an authoritative opener and is a great introduction to the power of Tartine de Clous’ singing. It’s held together by the spidery script of Roberts’ nimble electric guitar. Je Vous Ai Menti Souvent is a brisk, stirring a cappella performance. Closer Les Aiguillettes is jaunty and full of clever vocal interplay.
Belgium-based indie label Okraina is beginning to make a habit out of releasing these multi-cultural, often experimental records that catalogue a specific time and place. Au Cube, like all of their releases, is immaculately packaged, pressed on to ten-inch vinyl, with vibrant artwork courtesy of Gwénola Carrère. It is tempting to position the album as a kind of argument against the narrow-mindedness and provincialism of current politics (and in particular Britain’s relationship with Europe) or to try to defend its outward-looking approach in the face those myopic political stances. But musical collaboration does not necessarily need defending – songs as potent as this have been around for centuries and will surely still have an audience when the affairs of the present day are distant memories.
Order via Bandcamp (Digital/10″ Double Vinyl)