Amid the casualties of punk rock\u2019s necessary and thrashing critique of popular culture and music in the mid-seventies was folk rock and psychedelic music, which had blended in so many angry young minds with the era\u2019s MOR meanderings of British Prog. Folk became a bad word, associated with hippies and a bygone era of flared jeans, paisley print button-downs, peace, love and grooviness. As a result, through the eighties and nineties, there wasn\u2019t a finger-picking hit to be found, and folk as a genre was lumped into and filed beside Adult Contemporary at most record store chains: part of your dad\u2019s or your uncle\u2019s embarassing record collection, but not your own.
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\nAs with all subcultures, punk was about a search for genuineness, and it formulated a number of hypotheses which suited its DIY ideal, the most significant of which seemed to argue that experience of any musical kind was fraudulent. The famous punk credo was \u201cHere’s three chords. Now form a band.\u201d And there\u2019s a truth in this when it comes to pop music: a genius or an idiot can play three chords and create a three-chord classic. But as much as punk re-opened doors to rock-\u2018n\u2018-rolls\u2019 roots, it closed doors on guitar music\u2019s larger origins. And for all its energy, it too is historical now. If you\u2019re like me, you\u2019re as uncomfortable with leftover punks as you are with renaissance festivals and historical reenactments.
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\nTimes change, and audiences for music tend to look to their grandparents rather than their parents for guidance. Perhaps we\u2019re all sick of dad\u2019s radio taste on long car rides, or maybe it\u2019s the result of too many eighties nights. I\u2019m not certain. Whatever the reason, folk isn\u2019t such a bad word anymore and has returned to play as a musical genre after a good thirty years away. With other genres of a similar ilk, we\u2019ve been more forgiving: Gram Parsons<\/a>\u2019 easy strides into \u2018Cosmic American Music\u2019 tread the path for REM and Wilco\u2019s neo-country to the charts in the nineties, but the ground covered by Fairport Convention<\/a> and the Incredible String Band<\/a> has taken longer to return to.
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\nClocking in at just thirty-two minutes, Mancunian Jane Weaver<\/a>\u2019s fifth LP is a weird little post-folk experience: an example of what has been shifting the sand of the counterhip away from reckless post-punk guitar bands. The music passes quickly, so that one barely has a hold on a melody before the next segues in. Through the opening buzz of raga-like acoustic warmth, via the pounding title track, the nine tracks meander into deep psych-folk territory\u2014with enough chanting throughout to fully soundtrack a 60s Czech New Wave<\/a> film. The recording bears little resemblence to Weaver\u2019s previous effort, Cherlokalate<\/em><\/a> (2007), a much more straightforward collection of pop\/rock songs.
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\nThe Fallen By Watchbird<\/span><\/em><\/a> is a conceptual and collaborative project, the songs alluding to a \u2018floating story line based around missing seamen, telekinesis, avian messengers, white witchcraft and death & re-birth\u2019, and featuring appearances from genuine sixties psych-folk types, Wendy & Bonnie Flower<\/a> and Susan Christie<\/a>, as well as contemporary Welsh-language singer Lisa Jen<\/a> and traditional Bosnian singer Behar. The songs don\u2019t give much credence to the concept, especially as three of the nine are lyric-less, and it\u2019s only track eight, the prolixly titled \u2018My Soul Was Lost, My Soul Was Lost, And No One Saved Me\u2019, with its seashore soundscape opening, eight-bar progression and marching tempo, that conveys anything of the vague narrative. But then there\u2019s enough musical development to trigger other appreciations, and this is easily the most interesting and varied recording Weaver has issued.<\/span>
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\nOthers are working in a similar vein\u2014Philadelphia\u2019s Espers<\/a>, Brooklyn\u2019s Sharon Van Etten<\/a>, Bolton\u2019s Voice of the Seven Woods<\/a>\u2014creating a dark, folk-based music that draws on traditional elements while maintaining a contemporary sound: music for dark autumn or winter evenings. The Fallen By Watchbird<\/em>, though, is a Mancunian summer record, fit for those long boring sunny or not days full of rain and humidity, the music dark but driving towards a conclusion.
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