We join Lucy Farrell, Rachel Newton, Emily Portman and Alasdair Roberts, otherwise known as The Furrow Collective, at the Liverpool Philharmonic Music Room for an evening of hushed appreciation and a homecoming of sorts, in Portman’s case.
Against the broad yawn of Portman’s concertina, Farrell heads up Davy Lowston. Learnt from Martin Carthy (who picked it up from A. L. Lloyd), the close-knit whelm of the group’s four-part harmonies quickly take ahold of the audience. As Newton spins and rings her way around a singing bowl (read: ‘tiny cauldron’) Roberts eases into the charming The Dark-Eyed Gypsies. With Farrell stomping out a pulse in her sparkly socks, Newton then treats us to a rendition of the Gaelic waulking song Chuir M’Athair Mise dhan Taigh Charraideach. There’s a quivering, understated grace to her delivery, next matched by the banjo dappled Write Me Down, sung by Portman, now cast in a rosy hue, aglow onstage. Discovered through Cecilia Costello, she’s quick to note it has a happy ending worth hanging on to, especially considering that the set is soon to take a more severe turn towards the melancholic and macabre.
Epiphone SG in-hand, Roberts’ expressive playing then allows Farrell ample room to retell the heavy-hearted ballad of False True Love. Sung by Shirley Collins in 1967, it’s closely followed by another Collins classic recorded that same year, the popular Child ballad, Barbara Allen. When Alexis Petridis reviewed Collins’ Lodestar release in 2016 he quipped that the record amassed a total body count that could well ‘startle a Norwegian death metal band.’ Well, this thinking certainly carries in regards to The Furrow Collective; beyond the sweet blend of voices, these tenderly crafted arrangements give way throughout the night to tenacious tales of treachery and tragedy. The name Barbara Allen hangs in the air, as the song’s sublime slow-draw closes out to the death toll of Alasdair’s laboured heavy acoustic down strokes. “I love a good murder ballad,” later grins Portman.
Opening the second half with Polly Vaughn, the haar really rolls in thick now, sweeping the room and in turn, obscuring the sight of Jimmy, sealing the fate of poor Polly and fixing the audience in a quiet state of sullen reverie; cast adrift in the haze of diminished harmonies. With Lucy setting a pace on viola, My Son David feels as though it has a lighter lilt to it, even as the blood continues to spill and runs into the cyclical harp tangle of Down By The Greenwoodside. A lone As I Came in by Yon Castle Wall fades to Robert’s distinctive, faithful delivery on Lady Eliza, learnt via Topic Record’s Winnie Campbell. The Cruel Grave is another exercise in stark fragility, with atmospherics almost recalling the bleak, weather-beaten creep of Richard Skelton. Many’s The Night’s Rest has a proud gait recalling Lal & Mike Waterson in part, before Roberts’ recounts the sly, risqué manoeuvres of one Earl Marshall on Queen Eleanor’s Confession.
They barely make it off stage before they’re hounded for an encore. As the applause wanes the collective offer the two lullabies, Oh To Be in My Bed and Happit & Blow Out the Moon, as a final parting gift. The latter Farrell set to song in a struggle to get her five-year-old to sleep – “he hates it!” – she half-sighs, hoping we might take to it a little better. Yet another gorgeously rendered song in a set teeming with them – as if we wouldn’t? Their obvious prowess and given merits as solo artists aside, heard together The Furrow Collective deserve every accolade that has been thrown at them so far (and more so) for their seemingly effortless and understated interpretation of traditional song.
Earlier in the evening, Portman teased Roberts, suggesting she always fancifully pictures him hunched over a manuscript at the dead of night, recovering some 18th century Scots tune by candlelight, with a quill firmly clasped in front of him. An amusing aside for sure, but perhaps it does hold a flicker of truth in regards to the care and understanding these like-minded musicians obviously pour into their art. They’ve long been on the gig wish list for a reason and tonight’s performance certainly doesn’t disappoint. But really that should come as no surprise; coming in at a low roar, this outfit clearly doesn’t have it in them to be anything less than spellbinding.
http://www.thefurrowcollective.co.uk