Roly Witherow – Ballads and Yarns
Independent – Out Now
Although British folk is often (mistakenly) categorised as insular and exclusive, a new voice on the scene is always made welcome. Particularly one with a singular vision and a very different approach. And our ever-evolving tradition needs an opportunity to once again ask ‘what is folk?’ And Roly Witherow’s debut release, Ballads and Yarns, does just that and offers a very different answer from what’s expected.
In recent years, the well-trodden path to becoming a folk artist is by doing an academic degree or a course. Or by following in family footsteps, rising through the ranks via festivals and floor spots. But many of the jolts that have caused seismic shifts in folk are from musicians in other disciplines grabbing them by the scruff of the neck and shaking until all the crap falls out. Think early Fairport, Dylan with The Band, Billy Bragg’s punk-folk or Adrian McNally with the Unthanks.
Now Ballads and Yarns may not cause an earthquake in folk, but it could ruffle a few corduroy trousers. That’s because, for all that it is – on the surface – traditional, with trad-sounding songs, there is a different sensibility at work. A successful composer of music for film and television, Roly brings that experience to the music, creating soundscapes and atmosphere that tell the story as much as the melody and lyrics.
And he’s definitely not attempting style over substance, in all the publicity photos Roly looks like a geography teacher on a field day (but not necessarily having a field day). The release clocks in at just over 33 minutes, but that’s not far off the length of Pink Moon or Nashville Skyline. Proof, if needed, that duration doesn’t always define quality. In fact, it’s rather pleasing to have an album that’s crafted rather than sprawling. And there is a richness that suggests every second has been forensically engineered.
But there’s no rush either. The opening track, Forward, slowly burns to a mournful guitar figure, easing the listener into Roly’s wonky folkscape. By that I mean, much sounds familiar but unsettling at the same time and the second track, Lord Franklin, certainly fits that description. Roly’s voice is expressive and raw rather than trained and ‘professional’. The song is stripped back to the bones with occasional raga-influenced guitar fills making it a disquieting listen.
Next track Wedding Song blurts out with a snatch of Devonshire sea shanty collective The Old Gaffers, recorded on Roly’s own wedding day. After the gruff seamen fade, the track evolves into what could be mistaken for the soundtrack of a lost folk horror classic.
Row Bullies Row returns to more traditional sea shanty territory albeit with Barrett-era Floyd guitars that morph into early Richard Thompson stylings. With the addition of a Korg synthesiser and strident drumming, it succeeds in Roly’s ambition to make it sleazy and bawdy.
Thompson’s guitar influence can be discerned again on the frankly barmy instrumental Carousel. It is wild and wonderful, like a steampunk arcade game music. After that audio assault, Roly treats us to a spoken-word interlude, ‘Ow Bist Satan? Which carries on an eccentric oral folk tradition, floating somewhere between Ivor Cutler, Stanley Unwin and Worzel Gummidge. Ooh, and indeed, ahh.
Landing back in the tradition is Derry Gaol (sometimes called The Streets of Derry), which is sparse and plaintive as befitting it’s dark subject matter, if not its happy ending.
The collection closes with the straightest song on the album, Paean to All Earthly Things in which Roly sings a ‘lai, lai, lai’ refrain that could be mistaken for Peter Sarstedt, if it was not preceded by the line, ‘we all dissolve into the ground’. That’s also the lyric that closes the album. Bleak, perhaps. But it feels very appropriate for the times right now.
https://www.rolywitherowmusic.com/