LEFTOVERS: BIGGER STRINGS: JOANNA NEWSOM

 Well, if nothing else, a post here about Joanna Newsom has the opportunity to sidestep a similar piece appearing in the FUNNY VOICES theme, should the team ever take that one on. For too long her name has been a cipher for folk to take a potshot at her curious singing style, possibly to the extent that she is known better for that than for any of her music. (How I am helping is arguably not by starting off with this opener, but, hey, I have to find some traction.....) So, here I will do my best to avoid any reference to helium or to alleycats, concentrating more on her music. And her instrument, the harp.

Harps have only a small footprint in popular music, give or take the odd appearance, for texture and effect.    Like here and here. Folk music rather more, if more often the smaller Celtic harp: clarsachs and the like, thinking of the Breton, Alan Stivell, and the Scottish duo, Sileas. Folk then crosses over into classical with the afro-welsh chamber style of classical harp soloist Catrin Finch, in her works with Senegalese kora maestro, Seckou Keita. Jazz is mainly centred on the trance-like meanderings of Alice Coltrane, and then there are the hard to classify new-age ambient noodlings of Mary Lattimore. Newsom fits into none of these categories, although there is the attempt, or intent, to shoe-horn her into wyrd-folk territory, quite whatever that really means. 

Frank vs. Frank/Nervous Cop 

Classically trained in the instrument from an early age, she is proficient to a degree that can sometimes have you wonder how many of her are playing, or whether all that sound comes from just a harp. Just over a month away from her fortieth birthday, it was actually on keyboards the she began her musical career. But, having been drafted in to add her harp to the experimental rock of Nervous Cop. With the reception seeming promising, she self-produced a couple of EPs, which led her to be drawn to the attention of, initially, Will Oldham ( aka Bonnie "Prince" Billy) who then alerted record label, Drag City, who promptly signed her up. 2004 saw her full length debut, The Milk Eyed Mender. All the usual right-on culprits, Pitchfork and that ilk, hailed it amongst the years best, as did the UK's Sunday Times, that level of acclaim lingering into the later end of decade credits, six years later. In 2016, NME, the erstwhile inkie indie bible for counter-cultural teens, voted it 12th best folk album ever. Sales? Less so, it failing to chart, ever the lot of a critic's favourite. 

Bridges and Balloons/The Milk Eyed Mender

Touring with the likes of Devendra Banhart and Vetiver, she was at the forefront of the aforementioned wyrd-folk movement. (Answering my own query, I guess, thus, it means a folk electronica garnished with a hippy dippy ambience.) Festival appearances, many in the UK, underpinned her footprint, with the follow-up, Ys, released in 2006. Heavy duty contributions from along the lines of Van Dyke Parks and Steve Albini added no small gravitas, and she broke into the lower end of the charts. Some backlash, relating to her vocal, also became more overt: "an acquired taste", a "too precious warble that either bewitches or repels." Ouch.

Cosmia/Ys

One can't help but think these criticisms hurt. Although she made occasional guest appearances on other records, it was again two years ahead of her 3rd record. However, rather than reining back in any tendency to the grandiose, this was a triple. Have One On Me extended her appeal to the converted, but was deemed overly ambitious by some early acolytes. This isn't stop it out performing her earlier output apropos sales and charting. Indeed, when her 4th album, Divers, dropped in 2015, this too sold more than its predecessor, this time also recouping any loss of critical sway, it deemed her best yet by many. Any perceived change in her vocal timbre on these last two releases seem down to circumstance than to unappreciative ears; vocal cord nodules required medical attention in 2009. Unlike, let's say, Rod Stewart, this may have worked in her favour.

You and Me, Bess/Have One On Me

I appreciate I have actually made little overt reference to her actual harp playing. This is better stated by listening to the clips above, I believe, and I think and hope that there may be rather more harpists appearing as a result of her putting this instrument into the front line, however much she has also diversified into playing rather more keyboard instruments alongside. It would be good to see why she has been doing, becoming a mother apart, these past six years.

Leaving the City/Divers

Take your pick......

Steel: The Pipers

Sileas: The Pipers

[purchase]

Over the course of our Steel theme, we have heard an awful lot of music played instruments which are variants of the guitar. This is not surprising, but there are other instruments which also fit. To most minds, the harp is probably not one of them. The harp, like the classical guitar, is usually played with nylon strings. Of course, nylon was only invented in 1935, but the mellow sound we think of for harp music was played instruments strung with gut strings before that. Steel strings are far more unusual in harp music. In fact, Mary MacMaster of the Scottish folk duo Sileas is the player I know of who plays a steel stringed harp. What difference does it make? I could try to explain, but Sileas gives the best possible explanation through their music. That’s because the other member of the group, Patsy Seddon, plays the more typical nylon strung harp. The Pipers is a tune that presents the contrast in the two sounds to great effect.

Seddon and MacMaster first came together in a group called Sprangeen, which stayed together for two years, and made their only album in 1984. By the following year, that group was done, and MacMaster and Seddon had become the duo Sileas. They would eventually be inducted into the Scottish Traditional Music Hall of Fame, despite having only made four albums together as a duo. That’s because their other larger group, The Poozies, has proved to be far more stable than Sprangeen, accounting for another seven albums. Seddon and MacMaster are both also fine traditional singers in both English and Scots Gaelic. At least back when I first saw them in 1986, they were also wonderful live performers.

Memories: Beating Harps

Sileas: Beating Harps

[purchase]

Beating Harps, the song and the album, came out in 1987. That was a very important year for me. For the last six months of the year, I was on temporary lay-off from my job. Knowing that I would be called back, I decided to live on the unemployment, while seeing if I could make an opening for myself in the music business. To do this, I decided to identify some non-profit organizations in New York City that were involved in music, and offer my services as a volunteer. So I stuffed envelopes while the Waverly Consort rehearsed in the next room. I went into schools all over the city with a group that brought interesting music to children. And I helped get mailings out for the World Music Institute. At this last one, there was a bonus; in exchange for helping out at the merchandise table, I got to attend concerts of my choice.

Also in 1987, I met a woman at a Western Square Dance club, and we began dating. I hadn’t been seeing anyone for three years, so this was a big deal for me. As I got to know her, I found that we shared a love of Celtic folk music. So, when an evening of Scottish music came up, presented by the World Music Institute, I arranged an unusual date, where we both worked the show. On the bill were Andy Stewart and Manus Lunny, and Sileas. I had never heard of them, but I knew that WMI put on quality shows. It turned out beautifully. We both loved the show, and we bought up for ourselves all of the artists’ albums that were available on the merch table.

Sileas were the duo of Patsy Seddon, playing a gut-stringed Celtic harp, and Mary MacMaster, on steel-string harp. So they play the same instrument, but each sounds completely different from the other. They complement each other beautifully, each filling the spaces left by the other. Their singing works the same way, with one taking lead, and the other supporting her with wonderful harmonies. Ideally, a relationship should be like that. The woman I took to that concert has been my wife for twenty years now. The music our lives make has sour notes sometimes, but so far, we have always found that sound again. Four years after that concert, we walked down the aisle to the sound of a Celtic harper. Janice, this post is for you. I love you.