ALBUM REVIEWS
|
|
ALBUM REVIEWS |
|
Ellen Mary McGee
THE CRESCENT SUN SOUTHERN RECORDS 22.6.09 @www.vanguard-online.co.uk
Ellen Mary McGee is unique. I think that’s a fair assessment of her sound. Basing herself very clearly in the folk genre, there are elements that comfort in the way that only folk can, but there are also others that unsettle. Her story is one of plying her trade and discovering her niche, with this (her debut solo album), coming after membership in a semi-successful band and extensive touring – both with the band and on her own – across Europe and the US. Her sound is traditional folk, with the exception of an ever-present banjo (although it sounds more like a steel guitar), that is plucked to startling effect in a majority of The Crescent Sun’s tracks. It’s the first thing you hear on track one, “A Watch Of Nightingales”, and sets the mood for the album; the track itself showcases McGee’s ethereal voice and bare folk sound, but also proudly flys the banjo flag. While it’s a clever element to add to most songs, there’s one in particular that I take exception to. On “Teeth Of The Hydra”, the banjo is plucked in an uncomfortable & unsettling note sequence that jars and is impossible to ease into. Now, I imagine this is to aid the story of monsters, but it’s just that little bit too odd for me to get my head around. I still can’t decide whether or not I like the use of the banjo in this genre. Moving away from Tales Of The Banjo, the remaining sound is one akin to the recognisable female folk form made famous by Sandy Denny & Maddy Prior. McGee’s writing is accessible and imaginative; my favourite line being found in “The Fatal Flower Garden” and concerns a ‘tipsy gypsy lady’. Just magical. Other tracks of note include “Upon Death And Dying”, a lamenting tune, that contains strong images and characters that are surprisingly well formed for a three minute snapshot; the traditional folk stories of “He Is No Earthly Man” and “Lord Franklin” and “Theseus”, with its characters straight from Greek mythology – it seems unnatural for this young artist to be dealing with such classic material, but she does it well. The album’s closing track, “The Wintering”, starts with a suicide and takes the form of the note left behind. A grim idea, but beautifully delivered. And this can almost be said about the album as a whole, if ‘grim’ were not such a strong word. For, on paper at least, introducing a prominent banjo to traditional folk sounds like a terrible idea, but it kindof works. I think I’ll always have some indifference to it. Avoiding my split feelings on this subject, however, “The Crescent Sun” is a marvellous album, full of gentle, reassuring tunes and powerful writing. Highly recommended! www.myspace.com/thecrescentsun |
