A central figure in the weird/experimental folk scene based around the Yorkshire town of Todmorden, Jake Blanchard is a musician and visual artist whose recent works include the cover art for Richard Dawson’s The Ruby Cord, the jacket for Patrick Barkham’s book Badgers, designs for beer bottles and chocolate wrappers and a series of albums that showcase his own brain-frying psych-drone style. Blanchard tackles Bristol in the latest Ceremonial Counties tape, and he has chosen to split his fifteen minutes between two different West Country legends. The first part is called Giants (Goram and Vincent) and explores the myth surrounding the formation of Bristol landmarks Hazel Brook and the Avon Gorge, as well as Flat Holm and Steep Holm, two small islands in the Bristol Channel. According to the story, two giants were competing for the love of a woman called Avona. She asked them to drain a local lake, and the ditches they dug became the gorge and the brook. A thirsty Goram soon began hitting the ales. He fell asleep and woke to find he had lost the challenge. Inconsolable, he threw himself into the channel and became part of the local topography. Blanchard represents the story with his characteristic blend of DIY psych, drone, and space-age synth warbles. It’s underpinned by an insistent percussive rhythm, minimal, eldritch and aggressive: imagine Faust and Steve Reich in a competitive morris dance.
The second half of Blanchard’s contribution concerns The Hatchet Inn, the oldest pub in Bristol, which was once Blackbeard’s local and whose front door is reportedly covered with the skin of an executed criminal. Here, the mood is spookier. The drones and warbles take centre stage, and the piece builds to a swirling psychedelic morass, an evil little synth pattern emerging wyrm-like from the shifting centre. The way Blanchard creates and controls an eerie and highly singular atmosphere is mightily impressive.
Side two features Geology Disco and is devoted to Hertfordshire, specifically the legend of Sir Guy de Gravade of Tring Station, who sold his soul to Satan in an attempt to learn the occult tricks of the alchemist’s trade. The piece is a musical account of Sir Guy’s last meeting with the devil, after which he vanished forever. Geology Disco sets the scene with a colourful array of experimental electronics: crunchy synths, snickering insect-like noises in the background, blips and flickers. The heat of dancing flames is juxtaposed with a haunting chilliness. The piece grows slowly in intensity: it is expertly paced and finely weighted. A disembodied, emotionless spoken word sample adds to the strangeness. It vacillates between the uncanny and the downright confrontational. The futuristic electronics are manipulated into sounding ancient.
Little is known about Geology Disco – this seems to be their first release under that name – but on this evidence, the future of New Weird Britain is in safe hands.
Note on the Series: Each tape can be collected individually each month or as one entire subscription, and they are available via Folklore Tapes directly at www.folkloretapes.co.uk or via their Bandcamp page at https://folkloretapes.bandcamp.com/ and via selected independent record shops.
