This is definitely one of those “not the sort of thing I’d usually be buying” records. But, I am easily intrigued and (thanks to a general malaise discussed briefly a couple of posts ago) as I am currently absolutely shattered thanks to getting about half a dozen hours’ worth of sleep during the past two months, I’ll give anything a go.
I also decided to have a listen to this as it’s the first release from Daniel Martin Moore‘s new record label, Ol Kentuck Records, so it wasn’t that much of an arm-twister to pay up for this.
Some records are more personal than others, and it’s probably not unfair to say that this second album from this old time string trio is about as personal as it’s possible to get; a hand-coloured, hand-numbered sleeve houses a disc containing eight tracks at just over a quarter of an hour of the most relaxing, soothing traditional lullabies dedicated to the baby of one of the three voices involved. A labour of love on so many levels, where most people would probably have just settled for a pacifier dipped in Bailey’s (which may well end up being my personal Plan B, should I fail yet again to get any meaningful kip).
Onto the songs themselves, and each and almost every one of them is instantly familiar to me, having been around for longer than anyone’s cared to remember who wrote them in the first place. All given a nostalgic coat of paint by the combined talents of Julia Purcell, Cheyenne Marie Mize and Joan Shelley, the cross between Americana folk and “Forces Radio” feel of the arrangements and harmonies reminds me of Dana Falconberry’s music, particularly last year’s Halletts collection which came with its own charming hand-produced packaging.
If I had to pick a favourite from the set, the bluesy Go To Sleep Little Baby has that “You and me and the Devil makes three” line which always struck me as a bizarre way of trying to get anyone to go to sleep but sounds so beautiful when sung, and the Wicker Man-evoking closer of Hush Thee My Rowan has a more old English feel to it (specifically: a bit like the theme to dear childhood favourite Bagpuss) than the rootsier sounds of across the Atlantic.
A curious side-effect of all of this is that all of these songs are bringing back strong memories of my Dad who, I had completely forgotten up until now, was the one who used to sing me to sleep as a young child. Every song he sang tended to morph quickly into 1960s football terrace songs (thankfully, not the sweary ones), but they all started off in the same manner as the eight songs here. That’s a surprising memory to suddenly spring forth in such a fully-formed and lucid manner, but that’s the power of music I guess and it’s this sort of surprising recollection which is why I started doing this silly little blog in the first place.
As it’s currently 1:30am and I am still spark awake, I fear that even this sweetest of intentions has failed to send me to sleep, although I’m grateful to Maiden Radio for having more than a decent go at it. And to be honest, dozing off during the course of these recordings would have been rude of me anyway. Bailey’s it is then, and I hope that Maya Adele sleeps well with these sweet songs in her ears.
Maiden Radio can be found over at Ol Kentuck Records‘ home site, and things can be listened to and bought here.
No related posts.
Recent Comments