Essex-born and raised and an Honours graduate of London’s Trinity College Of Music, Clive Carroll possesses an innate breadth of musical curiosity, and he’s always been comfortable playing in any musical discipline or environment. Recognition of his own strength in this regard may well have led Clive back in 1996 to approach pub gig organiser Barry Carter in the hope of being engaged to do a support spot at the Red Lion in Manningtree opening for John Renbourn, Pentangle’s hugely influential guitar legend who openly displayed a similarly eclectic persuasion and a comparable wealth of musical tastes. These shared sensibilities were to form the basis of a lasting friendship between the two men; indeed, John was to prove the catalyst for Clive’s own 2000 debut album Sixth Sense, a landmark recording which John himself endorsed as “a milestone in the journey of the steel-string guitar”. After Clive graduated, John took him out on tour with him, providing his introduction to life on the road and then giving him much encouragement as he embarked on his solo career; their respect for each other’s musicianship extended to the adoption of aptly complementary (and complimentary!) nicknames: John became “The Abbot” (after the celebrated ale!) and Clive “Kid”.
Which leads us to this fulsome double-album set, on which Clive gets to pay the most handsome of tributes to his late friend and mentor, The Abbot, with the help of 20 additional guest musicians, companionably and inventively encompassing a variety of permutations of duo and ensemble arrangement. Clive’s rationale for this release was to celebrate the music and musicianship of John Renbourn in a unique way by showcasing the man’s groundbreaking compositions in specially empathic new arrangements that chime unerringly with his sensibilities.
Aside from Pentangle favourites Watch The Stars and So Clear and Lady Nothing’s Toye Puffe from John’s second solo LP Another Monday, the repertoire that John and Clive played on their tours together didn’t tend to reach too extensively into John’s back-catalogue, so this is a welcome chance to revisit several of the earlier pieces which had hardly (or never) been played live since their appearance on record. An essential part of Clive’s personal mission in making this record was to bring these compositions back into circulation, paying tribute to John’s tendency to creatively revamp, rework or tinker with his own pieces.
Clive’s extraordinary virtuosity and all-round musicianship, at once jaw-dropping and quietly stimulating, mirrors John’s own, especially in terms of its flexibility in the treatment of material. It helps, of course, that Clive is no mean guitarist (albeit a singularly modest one) – in addition to a good number of custom-built acoustic guitars and a Telecaster electric model, he also plays electric bass, banjo, mandolin, celeste, glockenspiel, tambourine and bodhrán on this release. This versatility enables him to tweak the palette and work with an ever-changing complement of musical bedfellows to constantly revitalise and bounce ideas around as a piece progresses. This may well involve the incorporation of unusual textures or timbres, as befits the individual compositions. It also brings some inspirational transformations – for instance, the use of jazzy cor anglais and bass clarinet (Jean-Luc Fillon) on The Pelican, here delightfully rearranged, stepping out of its original twin-guitar (Bert & John) arrangement into a joyful Parisian-style adventure, and the delicate expansion of another guitar duet (Orlando), with Lily Neill’s lever harp). The tripartite medley containing Lament For Owen Roe O’Neill and Mist Covered Mountains Of Home brings on Niall Keegan (flute) and Dermot Crehan (fiddle) alongside Lily Neill, for The Orphan, its rollicking, animated Irish-session finale.
There are still plenty of chances to experience Clive’s immaculate solo work in an astonishing variety of styles and moods. From the undeniably impressive, typically intricate runs and passage-work on jazz standard Little Niles (from Randy Weston), the jovial swing of Buffalo (a nod to Davy Graham) and the easy-going ragtime of Faro’s Tune, down to the reflective The Hermit (which Clive first learned in 2020), the folk baroque of Lady Goes To Church and the relaxed medievalism of The Lady And The Unicorn and Pavan d’Aragon. Remembering that “early music” was always a speciality of John’s, Clive also delivers invigorating takes on The English Dance (another that originally appeared on 1979’s Black Balloon album) and the lively Moorish-flavoured Estampie (which brings in Paul Cheneour on flutes). Interestingly, Clive has also unearthed a pair of ensemble pieces in John’s own hand (Intrada and Danse Royale), which are here presented for the very first time, played by Professor Robert A. White and the Unseen University’s Early Music Ensemble.
All the roots and branches of JR’s wide musical proclivities are proudly and enthusiastically covered by The Abbot, and the set wouldn’t be complete without a brand new incarnation of the always-curio portmanteau assemblage that goes under the title Sidi Brahim. It typically “winds through a souk”, visiting various stalls en route – here, the stallholders are Wizz Jones, Jacqui McShee, Stefan Grossman and Mike Walker & Rémy Froissart. It’s essentially a series of vignettes guided and linked by a flute and tabla extemporisation.
Although John’s magnificent guitar skills were always the prime focus, his understated singing also gave pleasure and complemented his instrumental artistry, so it’s fitting that The Abbot should also include a handful of vocal tracks. Clive’s blessed with an intimate, soft-spoken and gently resonant singing style, which proves particularly attractive on his clear-sighted cover of Jackson C. Frank’s Blues Run The Game (another number from the early days). Among other vocal selections included on this set, we find the ramblin’ I Know You Babe (a favourite that first appeared on the Another Monday LP), the old-timey banjo-backed The Young Man Who Wouldn’t Hoe Corn, and the traditional O Death. The latter is done as a duet with Clive’s sister Airavata, whose subtly powerful, bluesy-country tones come into their own on the Pentangle song So Clear, while Lisa Hannigan can be heard singing with Clive on Watch The Stars.
On two well-filled CDs, The Abbot grants us the privilege of being allowed to accompany Clive on his creative journey of exploration through Renbourn compositions. He sums it up so very accurately in his liner note: “In my mind, J’s musical vision shares much with the art of the Pre-Raphaelites; it is rooted in history and symbolism, rich in character and detail, with nods to the fantastic: John – “Abbot” – was an true pioneer, an ever-questing spirit who continues to inspire.” And thence, Clive proves an ideal conduit for John’s spirit.
Order the album here: https://www.clivecarroll.co.uk/