MAYDAY: SIR CASEY JONES/EIGHTEENTH DAY OF MAY

Trying for a double whammy, associating both the song and the performer with the theme, doncha know! Well, no, not as it turns out. And, anyway, a song about a runaway train would sit awkwardly alongside the usual culprits occupying the songs of this short lived and single album-ed band. Yes, but I still suspect a tongue may well have been twixt tongue and cheek as the name for the song's main man came to be chosen. With a nod, I feel, more to the Grateful Dead than to the old west.

Sir Casey Jones/Eighteenth Day of May (2006)

Eighteenth Day of May were a glorious anachronism, a potent mix of folk-rock UK and folk-rock US, the first a post Fairport plunder of trad. arr., the second a Byrdsian singer-songwriter jangle. Here but for a brief blink in the spotlight, emerging first in 2003, all burnt out by the end of 2006, they left behind them a legacy of only one completed full length recording and a lot of lingering expectation.
Initially an acoustic trio, Alison Brice on consummate Denny-esque vocals and flute, with guitarists Ben Phillipson and Richard Olsen, each capable on a range of stringed instruments. With a mission statement based about the Incredible String Band, they seemed thirty years plus late for the game. However, following the vibe of many a folkie before and since, they embraced Judas and went electric, adding bass and drums. And, more importantly, viola, in second female member, Alison Cotton. A serendipitous appearance on a magazine cover disc led to to their catching the ear of Hannibal records supremo, Joe Boyd. That Joe Boyd, the same as had fostered loving care and attention on the early Fairport Convention, recognising here some kindred spirits. There's a neat interview with them round about that time.

Lady Margaret/Eighteenth Day of May (2006)

The eponymous LP, which came out in 2005, received probably more praise than plaudits, a critics favourite rather than causing any great bother to the charts. Little else in 2005 sounded quite like this, perhaps a reason why it has lasted so well, exuding a timeless charm. As a card carrying lover of this style of musical alchemy, it has remained a thing of wonder to me and not small number of like-minded chums. So imagine my joy as I read of an expanded re-release of the debut, along with various other bits and bobs that would have potentially made up the second album, had they managed to gel that long. And imagine my dismay as it came and went, obviously released on the 18th of May, a limited 600 copy release, on vinyl, now already available only for silly money. Shame, but I live in hope of a further release, perhaps on CD next time, please. Hell, even a download would do.

Sir Casey Jones/Eighteenth Day of May: Live at Green Man festival, 2006

Since the demise of the band there have been flickerings from ex-members, predominantly Olsen and Cotton. Cotton actually stayed for a while with Phillipson and the rhythm section, with a near Eighteenth Day of May part two ensemble, Trimdon Grange Explosion, but they too only managed a single eponymous LP. So far, at least. For something a little more avant garde, she also has a developing solo career of drones and loops, voice and viola to the fore. Olsen I had heard no more of until I was alerted to the similarly jangly sounds, if with a more country-rock bent to them, of Hanging Stars. With three releases to their name, bubbling under the surface of the small pond of music styles tending to attract little current mainstream favour, they are right up my proverbial, echoes of the Flying Burrito Brothers and Love imbuing their sounds. I hadn't even realised their frontman was the one and same Richard Olsen, that knowledge somehow adding buckets of kudos to my enjoyment.

The Bonnie Banks of Fordie/Trimdon Grange Explosion (2019)

Honeywater/Hanging Stars (2017)

So, turning full circle, on this 22nd day of May, a few days late, please investigate these three strands,  each straggling from the premise and promise that there is no such thing as out-dated musical styles, just buttoned down ears afraid to tempt fate.

Eighteenth Day of May
Trimdon Grange Explosion
and
Hanging Stars.

TREES/GRASS: TREES

As in they coulda/woulda/shoulda, Trees were the band Fairport Convention could have been if Dave Swarbrick hadn't been knocking about, a heady infusion of psychedelia and trad.arr. Contrary to current accepted dogma, Fairport weren't the sole progenitors of ye olde folke-rocke, merely the ones who took it first and foremost into their entire modus operandi, for 'Liege and Lief', having really only dipped their toes in and out before, gradually mingling elements of a folk tradition into their initially more american singer-songwriter palette. Trees were arguably ahead of them at that moment, with a potent stew of their own songs, a mix of meandering guitar based whimsies and folk club standards, applied with the same patchouli scented rhythmic brush. Plus, without a fiddle, they could resist the temptation of a jig and reel based sensibility, which would later give the genre a bad name. There was a slew of similar bands, vying for attention alongside, most, too, cast to the ranks of also-rans. I'm thinking Comus, Dando Shaft, Mellow Candle and Tea and Symphony. (Deliberate non-mention of Dr Strangely Strange and the Incredible String Band, each worthy of pieces of their own.)

The Garden of Jane Delawney

                                                            She Moves Through the Fair
                                          Both from 'The Garden of Jane Delawney', 1970

Coming together in 1969, a collection of friends and acquaintances, loosely related to the UK University of East Anglia. A 5 piece of 2 guitars, one each of acoustic and searing electric, bass and drums, vocals were provided by Celia Humphris, the friend of a friend, who was auditioned predominantly as none were otherwise strong enough in that department. Here's a pretty good interview with Humphris. (Don't panic, the translated article follows directly the italian!). Record companies were eagerly recruiting in these days, and multi-record deals were plentiful to any possible contenders, so, within months, the relatively inexperienced ensemble were signed to CBS. Whilst they perhaps failed to deliver the promise on the front of success, the critics loved 'em and the plaudits were plentiful. As so often the way, radio DJ John Peel played no small part in bringing their name into the open, citing that he wished he could devote a whole show to their music. But fame wasn't beckoning, good reviews failing to translate into sales, and so, after two records, they folded, a lifespan of barely 3 years. A 2nd version launched briefly, this time adding the by now de rigeur fiddle, although Humphris was the sole remaining original member.

Fool

Polly on the Shore

Both from 'On the Shore', 1971

Remarkably for a band of it's time, there have been, as yet, no re-unions, no reformations, possibly adding to the mystique. Performances have occasionally been mooted, without ever quite taking off. But the recordings have remained in print, slowly and steadily selling, buoyed by re-issues and helped by the odd stroke of luck: of all bands, Gnarls Barkley, maverick soul/electronica duo, sampled their song, 'Geordie', on the song 'St Elsewhere', the opening and title track of their 2006 debut.

                                               Tom of Bedlam: 'Trees Live', 1973 (later line-up)

I would say the time period 1968 - 1972 was as fertile a period in music as any before or since. The fact that it coincided with my formative years was a wonderful stroke of luck, if perhaps explaining my opinion. And whilst I have loved music since that time and discovered music from before, if not necessarily to the actual recordings, it is often to the musicians who then first paid their dues that I most frequently return.

Take a walk through the Trees.