Can you hear the bells?
I’ve been procrastinating writing this for ages, maybe it was seeing Paul over the weekend that reminded me, as well as one of those meetings being at Warren’s album launch last night adding another essential thing to muse upon being added to my queue of things to ponder about on here!
So, long overdue – musings on the new(ish) album from Shanks’ Pony, evocatively titled Whispers of Arcane and bedecked with beautiful artwork by Kezia Parsons perfectly incapsulating the contemporary folk whimsy the CD enclosed promises. It’s hard to believe it was way back in 2017 we were treated to the debut album A Song For Everyone, which has remained in regular rotation on my playlist!
The band of course have evolved since then, Pete has arrived to beef up the sound with bass, and Rob has picked up fiddle duties from Helen – so whilst undoubtedly there’s a more fulsome soundscape here, they’ve lost none of their inherent charm and earnest storytelling. What was it that the BBC were set up to do? Inform, Educate and Entertain – maybe they should be taking a leaf out of the Shanks’ Pony playbook these days!
The Bells of St Martin opens, lonely strings before the bass and percussion kick in we’re transported to Dunwich, Britain’s answer to Atlantis, a town lost to sea in medieval times. There’s local legend that the bells of St. Martin’s can still be heard which provides the hook to the song. Despite the sombre topic, it’s an upbeat song and a perfect album opener to set the tone, fading out to haunting bells chiming and sounds of the sea.
Mickey’s Bag of Tricks is probably my favourite – it’s wonderfully sleazy sounding, ponderous in rhythm and perfect in tone to evoke a bar full of folk of ill-repute, ne’erdowells who probably aren’t all that bad – the chorus lifts to another level, as does the soaring fiddle instrumentation whilst the dirty dirgy guitar, bass and cajon keep the song grounded and gritty. I wondered how this slight departure from what I’m used to would translate live, I’m happy to say it does so perfectly!
One Way Ticket feels more familiar territory, and in a very good way (I should clarify, I bloody love the diversions into new songs too!) – co-written with long time collaborator Amy Hill, it’s a charming folksy song lifted by lovely backing vocals to compliment the catchy melodies and sing-along-able choruses. Another than translates excellently to a live setting (which is kinda the point of recording songs, isn’t it, it seems like a silly thing to point out – but it’s not always something that works!).
Downtown starts with a gut punch of guitar, bass and cajon – I did as Paul if he’d used different guitars, maybe a 12 string but apparently not – but it might be one of those where he’s tuned down the low E. Thematically a sequel or continuation of High Street Sell Out from the first album – much grittier and harder hitting, with Rob finding the perfect spaces to overlay a pretty melody to lift the mood. Maybe it’s just me that gets drawn to Petunia Clark’s more optimistic song of the same name during the chorus! This one was, according to the album notes, inspired by a poem by Nick Foulds.
Park Bench Pete brings the pace and mood down, a heartfelt lament to person down on their luck – a casualty of the dreadful state of the nation. Anyone involved in our music scene would draw obvious comparisons at least in theme with Slow Motion Suicide by Ferocious Dog, but this slow paced song with plaintive and emotional fiddle throughout doesn’t reach that gig finishing climax, it remains appropriately sombre. I don’t like the term ‘album track’ – but short of full-length gigs I don’t imagine it will get many airings at festival slots. For someone like me that loves a maudlin song, that’s not always a good thing!
Self Taught is a bouncing pile of festival fun, cheerful mandolin kicks things off – you’d do well to singalong to the very wordy verses, but then you’re rewarded with a spectacularly catchy chorus you can join in with! Irresistible to have a dance to, with lovely bass climbs and fiddle melodies all underpinned with Bob’s relentless rhythm and those mandolin sections picked through it. I love it!
Rise for Revolution is darker – launching energetically will full band, the soaring fiddle taking centre stage, before it slows and quietens for the vocals, then back to intense instrumentation, then quiet then a rousing chorus. The revolution of Pentrich is the topic – which again we’ve heard documented before, this has a different slant – delving into the motivations and underlying causes. This is such a multi-textured track in terms of tone and pace. I notice something different each time I listen, which I love!
Rotherham’s Lament / Lanigan’s Ball takes us to the immediately preceding time period – Napoleonic wars and joining up to fight, as was the want of the working classes at the time, the ‘making of a man’ – it’s emotive, it’s sad – but still tunefully uplifting as you’d expect before leaping into a traditional jig which fits beautifully to the end of the song, and would definitely be difficult to resist a good stomp to!
The Green Children of Wolfpit starts with more moody drop-D guitar, I love it. It puts me in mind of 3 Daft Monkeys and Levellers, which is a high compliment indeed! It starts out ponderous and atmospheric, then a third of the way in builds in relentless instrumental intensity before dropping back to continue a frankly fascinating backstory of two children who appeared in the Suffolk village Woolpit with pale green skin, a brother and sister who spoke an unknown language and only ate green beans! Maybe it’s the ‘and they danced’ refrain that reminds me of 3 Daft Monkeys but I bloody love songs with stories attached to them. Excuse me whilst I disappear down a Wikipedia wormhole!
Special Brew ’22 is a reboot of a Shanks’ classic, so will be familiar but more fulsome territory for anyone who’s ever seen them or heard them before. A mash-up of a cautionary or celebratory tale depending on your point of view, documenting many of the pitfalls of over-indulging in festivals. A firm favourite during their live sets for many years now, although the last few times I’ve seen them the cans of the infamous brew are no longer there for folk to claim as their past festival crimes are revealed in the lyrics – so maybe as time has worn on it’s more of a cautionary tale!
Which brings us to Raise a Glass, I can remember Paul posting an early version of this possibly even during lockdown. It’s an emotional and lovely tribute to the legend that is David Bowie. It’s poignant and uplifting, riddled with references to lyrics and songs from Bowie’s back catalogue – personally I’d have liked some more Labyrinth references but perhaps that betrays my own niche interests. A fabulous way to sign off this collection of songs.
I don’t think that you’ll find the album on streaming platforms (but do have a look and prove me wrong in case!), but get in touch with them to get a copy via their Facebook page – and you shan’t be disappointed!
