Georgia Shackleton’s solo debut ‘Harry’s Seagull’ is one of the freshest and most appealing folk albums of the year.
When I tell people that I was born in Norfolk, spent the first few years of my life there, and still consider it one of the most beautiful parts of the country, I often get a response along the lines of ‘isn’t it a bit flat.’ The implication here is that flatness is synonymous with dullness, that a landscape needs jags or humps or peaks in order to be interesting. Flatness can be breathtaking: skies become huge, a single tree takes on a strange personality of its own, light starts to behave in odd ways, and the weather lays itself bare before you. Flatness has a value in and of itself; it also places a keener value on the things that exist on it. A flat landscape is an open book, however cliched that might sound. It invites creativity and inspires a kind of wistful longing that might be based on the human need for expression, the need to fill a vacuum. I don’t think it’s a coincidence that the country’s most successful creative writing degree is based at the University of East Anglia in Norwich.
And it’s not a coincidence that East Anglia is the home of some of our best and most unfairly overlooked folk music. Song collectors like Lucy Broadwood, A.L Lloyd and Alan Lomax found much to love in the region, while Harry Cox, one of the most influential of all English traditional singers, lived in Norfolk for the whole of his long life. Both Cox and Broadwood are honoured on Harry’s Seagull, the beautiful debut album by Norfolk singer Georgia Shackleton, which seeks to celebrate East Anglia’s rich musical heritage. Opening track Twenty, Eighteen is adapted from a version collected by Broadwood in the mid-Norfolk town of Attleborough and showcases Shackleton’s clear, unadorned singing style and characteristic plucked fiddle, achieving a perfect balance between minimalism and melody. It is an apparently typical courting song, but, as Shackleton makes clear in her liner notes, it is both collected by and sung from the point of view of a woman, quite a rare combination. It emphasises the importance of collectors like Broadwood, who had greater access to female-dominated spaces. But it’s not just a piece of social history, it’s a perky, catchy song performed with enviable joie de vivre.
Shackleton has spent the last eight years performing as part of a trio. She seems to have had an incredibly busy live schedule, and the spontaneity and directness of this recording is an attempt – and a successful one at that – to capture the energy of live performance. There is a sweetness and intimacy to Come, Little Leaves, which is fitting, given that it was collected from the singing of Walter Pardon, who first learned it as a young schoolboy in Knapton. Pardon, though perhaps less well-known than Cox, was a prolific and talented singer with a repertoire of nearly two hundred songs who played a huge role in preserving Norfolk’s oral tradition (and unlike many singers of his era, he wasn’t one to shy away from the bawdier verses).
But if this album has a guiding light, it is undoubtedly Cox. The medley What Will Become Of England/Yarmouth Hornpipe/Harry’s Seagull begins with one of the most prescient songs in his repertoire, a biting indictment of a country’s failed leadership at a time of poor working conditions and inequality. The hornpipe and Harry’s Seagull (the only non-traditional piece on the album, composed in honour of Cox) strike a slightly melancholy note and act as a perfect showcase for Shackleton’s expressive fiddle playing. These instrumental sections also highlight her use of the harmonium: its drone provides a satisfying depth and a sense of wildness.
Another song indebted to Harry Cox is Yarmouth Fisherman’s Song, which was written by a crewmate of Cox’s father and passed down to the next generation, perhaps not without a few changes. It appears to be a very realistic encapsulation of the hardships of the fishing industry, and Shackleton performs it with a propulsive, windblown energy. It’s interesting to note that, like many fishing songs, it is written in the first person plural, which instantly implies a sense of community.
The harmonium takes centre stage on the desperately sad lament Small Birds Whistle, an old song related to The Famous Flower Of Serving Men. It comes from the collection of another Norfolk singer, Jasper Smith; this version is shorter and pithier than most and all the more devastating for it. Within its short span, it manages to say a great deal about parental love, cruelty and the banal horror that can be perpetrated in the name of convention. It is followed by a version of The Blacksmith, a hugely popular song with variants all over the country. This one comes from Phoebe Smith – Jasper’s sister – and is exquisite and dramatic, providing a centrepiece for the album and living up to the well-known recording by the great Shirley Collins. It begins with a winding, evocative fiddle section, and throughout the song, the fiddle weaves in and out of the vocal melody. It is a genuine tour de force and shows how even the most familiar folk songs can be reinvigorated in the right hands.
Rambling Robin was recorded by both Peter Bellamy and Christy Moore in the 1970s. Shackleton adapts Bellamy’s version to wonderful effect: it is brisk and sprightly, zipping through six verses in less than a minute and a half, the plucked fiddle providing an oddly elegant spikiness. Another pair of hornpipes – Watson’s Hornpipe and Swanton Abbott Hornpipe – are played with grace and dexterity, the overlaid fiddle and harmonium providing a surprising and rewarding texture. The album’s final song, Windy Old Weather, is another nod to Harry Cox (though this recording also borrows from Sam Larner). A highly entertaining tale in which a skipper of a fishing boat is given advice by a cast of talking fish, it was once described by Alan Lomax as ‘one of the nicest songs I’ve heard in England,’ and provides a lighthearted counterpoint to Yarmouth Fisherman’s Song.
Created out of minimal ingredients, Harry’s Seagull shows just how invigorating traditional music can be and how old songs sung with affection and skill can sparkle like new. It’s a love letter to a specific corner of England and its unique heritage, but it is also universal in its appeal. Georgia Shackleton’s solo debut is light as a gull’s feather but flush with ideas: it’s one of the freshest and most appealing folk albums of the year.
Pre-Order Harry’s Seagull (29 November 2023) – https://georgiashackleton.bandcamp.com/album/harrys-seagull
Upcoming Tour Dates
30/11 OCTAGON CHAPEL, NORWICH TICKETS
3/12 FOLKLORE ROOMS, BRIGHTON TICKETS
4/12 CROYDON FOLK CLUB TICKETS
5/12 GREEN NOTE, LONDON TICKETS
19/01 NORFOLK WILDLIFE TRUST TICKETS
21/01 FLEECE INN, BRETHERTON TICKETS
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