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fRoots is a truly independent, activist magazine that celebrated its 34th anniversary in 2013! We are very proud that we have published every single issue on time.
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in a thoughtful, experimental, innovative yet weird manner that produces a gripping yet
disorienting reaction from the listener, then this is it. Hear a track on this issue’s fRoots 45.
www.pagansmusica.net Vic Smith MERRY HELL
Head Full Of Magic, Shoes Full of Rain Mrs Casey Records MCRCD3103
Difficult second album syndrome? Not here chum. As if their debut Blink…And You Miss It wasn’t passion
and commitment enough, Merry Hell have done the nigh impossible and made an even better album. Head Full… is a leaner, trim- mer, sharper beast with endless tricks up its sleeve, pulling no punches yet managing to summon exuberant melodies and choruses with the potential for enduring singalong. In fact, here is a work of brilliance.
John Kettle, the band’s guiding presence and usually the major writing hand, here con- centrates on delivering killer guitar licks and a superb example of focused production. Having said that, his lone new composition is nothing short of genius, Roseanna, Let Me In is pure pleasure, a rolling lead line, hooked undertow, a chorus to lift the roof and lyrics which confirm and perplex in equal measure.
His instincts remain as acute as ever they were. Step up then his good lady, vocalist and banjo queen Virginia. It’s no exaggera- tion to say she shoulders the majority of the composition and makes the album a delight, so eclectic is her inspiration. OK, so she’s already an established soloist but it takes some chops to front up and write for a seven-piece new-wave roots band with the history of Merry Hell. That she succeeds with such rigour and determination says much. There’s not an ounce of slack from the bar- relhouse opener Loving The Skin You’re In which celebrates the cult of confident indi- viduality, via the party central Let’s Not Have A Morning After (featuring no less than Dave Swarbrick on fiddle) with the splendid lyric “Act your shoe size babe, not your age!” We’re only on track three and she’s just breaking stride. She goes all music hall on Bury Me Naked which basically trashes the consumer society, and then delivers a gor- geous waltz Emerald Green, doomed romance, enforced separation and bring our boys home safely – it’s got to go down as one of the most affecting pieces of writing in
many a moon. She melds so easily with the gravel and sandpaper of co-vocalist Andrew Kettle, the pair sound like they’ve been har- monising for tens of albums never mind two! Let The Music Speak, however, is probably her most telling contribution, band mantra and audience philosophy, if only the idea would float across the wider media! Else- where mandolin player Bob goes decently cosmic on the driving Dreaming Of The Time and hopelessly romantic with I Never Loved Anybody Like I Love You, both full of aching melody and typical verve.
I could go on… there seriously isn’t a weak
track. “We come from a working class town, but there’s no work around here to be found, there’s nowhere left to go,” sings Andrew on Waiting For The River acknowledging that this band never forget their own backyard.
Everything about this CD is precision, it is emotional, social, sentimental, truthful and kicks like a mule at a picket fence. In tune both musically and politically they reach out with a come-one-come-all credibility that strikes home in the most powerful way.
You won’t hear a better release this year, guaranteed. I recommend this with no reserve whatsoever. Undoubtedly the album of 2013 to these ears, buy this and buy in with relish y’hear?
www.merryhell.co.uk Simon Jones. HILLFOLK NOIR
What’s That Hat For? Own Label 70026138181
TRAVIS WARD
Jump Ups & Jollities Own Label 700261381657
A raggedy, rollicking adrenalin-shot of a trio, ‘junkerdash’ stylists Hillfolk Noir, from Idaho, make a
rough-hewn neo-traditional brew from a myriad of influences including folk, blue- grass, punk, jug-band and string-band blues. Their trio sound on What’s That Hat For? is at once sparing in its straightforward honesty and refreshingly lo-tech in outlook. But it is also ample in spirit, with great portions of compelling acoustic blues hollering and slide guitar, gustily slapped double bass, rattling washboard and occasional outing for the always welcome musical saw, and jaws harp, on a range of “original or unoriginal songs”.
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