Cohen Braithwaite-Kilcoyne – Rakes & Misfits
Grimdon Records (GRICD003) – 5 March 2021
About 20 years ago, I went to see John Kirkpatrick play a solo gig at the Grey Horse in Kingston. Just a man and his squeeze box(es) belting out age-old tunes with passion and panache.
I felt, back then, like I was witnessing a dying art. We’d never see his like again.
That’s until 2019 at the Leigh Folk Festival. We arrived at an outdoor stage opposite a pub, getting there early not to miss the Trials of Cato. And heard something familiar happening on stage that took me back decades to that night in Kingston.
From the passion, authority and skill of the performer – solo melodion and voice – I was expecting someone more of a contemporary of Kirkpatrick. On stage (you guessed it) was Cohen Braithwaite-Kilcoyne, and as we all note how policemen are getting younger, so are squeezebox players it seems. Somehow fine folk music always survives and is renewed in each generation.
Most people will know Cohen from young folk upstarts, the brilliant Granny’s Attic. And while his playing (melodeon, anglo concertina) and singing are core to that talented trio, this is pure Braithwaite-Kilcoyne. His vocals and box-playing delve deep into the songs and tunes with an alarming virtuosity. Particularly when you consider it was recorded ‘live in-studio’ with no overdubs.
Rakes and Misfits is suitably chosen as a title for this collection, many of the songs are about outcasts and people on the fringes. It’s Cohen’s second solo album, and things have moved on from his acclaimed debut, Outway Songster in 2016. This follow-up features more self-penned songs and tunes, plus a commanding self-assurance.
The New Barbary kicks off the album like a jab in the ribs, and the energy and skill doesn’t stop until the closing notes of From Marble Arch to Leicester Square. You can imagine the steam coming off his melodeons and concertinas at the end of the session. That’s not to say there isn’t light and shade. The pairing of the tunes, Female Rake/The Drunken Drummer is taken at a pace, while Worcester Farewell is lilting and intimate.
And there’s light relief in songs like The Dancing Tailor, the concertina accompaniment adding a suitably comedic parping to this tale of a tailor losing his britches (and a lot more besides). And it’s also heartwarming to see a nod to multi-instrumentalist with Fairport Convention (and much, much more besides), the greatly-missed Maartin Allcock on the second tune of the medley, The Grumpy Old Man/Maart’s Fancy.
The playing throughout will make your eyes water and the singing is always fervent and true. This is an album for concertina-lovers everywhere. And for all those who don’t yet revere the squeezebox in all its glorious forms, this might well make a few converts. Welcome to hell, rakes and misfits everywhere.