Diana Collier – Ode To Riddley Walker
Rif Mountain – Out Now
Formerly vocalist with legendary psych-folk collective The Owl Service and duo Greanvine (in tandem with Steven Collins), Diana has since branched out on her own, releasing first a disc of traditional folk ballads and carols (All Mortals At Rest, 2016) and now a second solo album that’s significantly different from its predecessor in that it marks a radical shift in emphasis onto primarily self-composed material. Well, that applies to six out of the eight tracks, the two exceptions being arrangements of traditional songs.
Taking the latter first, the overriding impression is that on this album the actual timbre and texture of Diana’s vocal delivery (her clear and pure yet vulnerable, almost whispered, “head voice”) imparts a distinctively eerie quality to her interpretations of traditional song. Especially in the case of On Christmas Day It Happened So, largely due to the uniquely spooky arrangement which surrounds (and almost submerges) her voice amidst treated violin and other atmospherics (courtesy of John Hannon). In contrast, and yet in its own way just as atmospheric, is Diana’s plain and undecorated a cappella take on the big incest ballad The Bonny Hind (Child 50). Modelled on Martin Carthy’s version of the text (albeit slightly abridged) and using his adopted tune, this is certainly quite different from the June Tabor-via-Tony Rose version (more recently also recorded by Debra Cowan), which is more overtly dramatic both in its melody and its character and phrasing. In comparison, Diana’s take arguably sounds altogether sweeter; perhaps one might say almost innocently detached and less obviously “involved”, but at the same time scarily knowing.
We now move on to Diana’s own self-penned songs, which are nothing short of spellbinding – but they demand full concentration nevertheless. Memory and place would seem to be key drivers for her inspiration, at least in the majority of the six compositions. The title track, however, is more oblique in that it refers directly (if enigmatically) to Russell Hoban’s award-winning early-1980s dystopian sci-fi novel of life in a bleak, regressive post-nuclear age. Matching its lean vocal line to a bare-boned instrumental backdrop, its sparse, fragmentary lyric alludes thematically and ominously to scenes within the novel, although it sensibly does not attempt to replicate the novel’s ubiquitous, impenetrable, yet peculiarly archaic mutant language. The minimalist spell is broken only in the song’s ethereal interlude passage, a lament for bowed banjo (Jason Steel), synth and wordless vocal (Dom Cooper).
Balm sets a cryptic and possibly deceptively reassuring lyric to an unsettling, potentially tortuous melody and strangely apt waltz-time gait, with noodling clarinet (Emma Reed) and some odd percussion (Mark Offord) wrong-footing the edgy guitar lines that support and steer the vocal part. Simeon Llewellyn is titled after Diana’s grandfather and takes the form of a meditation on the nature of memory and how we choose to remember and honour people. Nancy Wallace guests here on concertina and harmony vocal and the song’s also notable for its hauntingly strange melodic progression. The brooding Margins, built around a queasy descending scale melody with squeaking industrial guitar action, stalking bass and brushed cymbal backdrop, would appear to be an unsettling commentary on the (all too marginal) status of refugees within a world which gives over-much credence to the far right (the statement “this album stands in opposition to the rise of the far right” is prominently positioned on the insert sheet).
Friends is a touching piece in memory of a friend, Simon Turmaine; fittingly, Diana’s song is introduced by a clangorous, echoing piano recorded as heard from way down the hall, on a brief sampled excerpt of Simon himself singing and playing Roddy Frame’s composition Reason For Living. The quoted line from this song, “walk the line with some grace; say it wasn’t a race”, proves key to the song’s message. Nancy’s concertina makes a second appearance on this track and adds to the song’s poignancy. The last of the self-penned songs on the album, Village, evokes a shadowy ghost hamlet with fragile, almost ephemeral demeanour and a gently resonant if slightly sour clarinet and bass guitar backing.
Ode To Riddley Walker is available in two limited-edition formats; both hand-numbered in a stickered sleeve with folded insert: firstly a CD, and secondly a vinyl edition. The first 50 copies include a four-track bonus CD (So Dearly I Loved My Love), performed exclusively a cappella. Three out of the EP’s four tracks are assured, thoughtfully measured (though not ponderous) takes on traditional songs – viz. Go From My Window, The Grey Cock and Sheep Crook & Black Dog; on the latter, the melody is offset by some chilling harmonies. The EP’s final item is a timely rediscovery of Lal Waterson’s gorgeous, sinuous (if gnomic) To Make You Stay, the presence of which may well invoke for the listener some resonances of Lal’s writing in Diana’s own dark and yet limpid creations.
This is an album to really get into, for while its sounds and words are seriously haunting, there’s also a potent delicacy of expression that stems partly from the precisely contoured instrumental contributions but mostly from the quality of Diana’s voice. For her singing has an individual aura that seems to combine the seemingly contradictory elements of cool detachment and rapt involvement but whose graceful sense of momentum involves and draws in the receptive listener. It’s also fair to say that Diana’s music presents something of a challenge – especially in discerning and following the sometimes idiosyncratic lyrics and the concomitant, unusually twisty melodies. But in summary, Ode To Riddley Walker is an exceedingly intriguing record, as notable for its deceptively vulnerable character as for its compact, concentrated expressiveness; and not least in that Diana confirms herself to be a writer of considerable insight, and a performer of no mean sensitivity.
Order via Bandcamp: https://folknotfolkdianacollier.bandcamp.com/album/ode-to-riddley-walker