22.8.12

The Folk/Jazz/Blues Crossroads

Somewhere in the tortured souls of those poor dears we like to call singer-songwriters, there is a crossroads. A crossroads where all the elements of their craft join in a way that makes us believe in what they are singing, and that they believe in what they are singing. The music simmers and swells behind them, their voice soars and cracks, their words prickle with their emotion and resonate with our own personal experiences. Here we are at the place called Folk/Jazz/Blues.


Perhaps I should start a Poorly Named Genre Of The Week feature. Folk/Jazz/Blues gets a special nomination for not incorporating any of the styles which it claims to. Instead, the folkishness relates to the often acoustic instrumentation and the storytelling aspects of songwriting; the jazzosity to the stretched out song lengths, openness to colourful orchestration, and mutual sensitivity of the musicians; while the blues is mostly just in the emotive quality of the singer. Alright well maybe because it doesn't sound like any individual element it could be called a successful crossover genre. But let's get away from all this talk of genres before we realise how woolly they are again.


Listen to Van Morrison. He ain't nothing but a stranger in this world but he sounds mighty good in the company of all those strings and flutes. Redeeming him all over the shop. His vocal is raspy and pained, but it keeps turning, lilting in such a hopeful way that you feel happy and sad at the same time, that nostalgic thing. It's great. The bass, strings, flute and vibes respond to the song as it grows, matching the emotion of Van's delivery and strumming, propelling and easing when the song calls for it. The lack of drums lets everything flow all around and in the gaps. Just a little shaker rippling along with it. It doesn't need a chorus, but that turn on "to be born again" just when you've forgotten it's coming is a great hook for the fish of empathy. The fluidity lets him get away with the potential cheese of the redemptive upbeat thing. Enough water references yet? How about some actual wave sounds...


 In 'Love From Room 109 At The Islander (On Pacific Coast Highway)' Buckley Sr. shows how great it is when singer-songwriters stand at the Folk/Jazz/Blues crossroads and realise that they don't have to write concise songs. Forget the radio. Stretch their legs out. That's the jazz bit. Exploring the melodic possibilities, letting the space between the bits do its bit. Timothy keeps it sensual and brooding (no surprise) but with a mysterious buoyancy from the vibes. I think vibes are made for the crossroads. The length and pace also fit the wasted-and-lovelorn-in-a-hotel feel perfectly. The song threatens to be taken over by the wave sounds and instrumental mood sections, but you hang on to his dark brown words, then at around 3 minutes the guitar drops away and his whispery croon intertwines with the vibes and bass. It all languishes beautifully for the middle section of the song, where picked guitar and bowed bass mingle in. Then the lift, around 7 minutes. "It's my heart, it's your heart/ It's our hearts together/ You sing and I'll bring/ We'll both love together/ And all I know is let it grow/ For you'll find peace of mind." Earnest as hell, but the cynic in me is long gone after 9 minutes in the simmering groove.


Here's sort of a classic of the genre. Martyn digs a bit deeper into the blues side of things vocally, which makes it a bit more meaty. Not too much though, you don't want too much meat in a song dedicated to the Nick Drake. Although this is a more conventionally structured song, with a real chorus and all, there's a lot of attention payed to the atmospherics, from them vibes again to the particularly lovely sax doing things to make your right ear swoon (headphones permitting). In addition there's more percussion and a muscly bass thing going on too, which shows that its not all wispy and wan at the crossroads.

You may have noticed that these three are all from a pretty similar demographic, young male troubadours from the late 60s and early 70s, which is when this style and sound hit a degree of popularity and vibraphone sales rocketed. However, the key thing is that this started a rich tradition which liberates singer-songwriters by widening the scope of their musical vision. In recent times we are blessed with the singular work of the likes of Joanna Newsom, Josh T Pearson and Mike Wexler who draw from the emotion and ambition of the Folk/Jazz/Blues ethos while mixing in their own stylings, and come out with music which shouldn't be labelled with a genre, because it is really just about the brilliant songs themselves. This kind of thing sometimes happens to young styles born at a crossroads. They start out borrowing a bit from the past traditions, then develop their own identity, then remember they grew in an open-minded spirit and start drawing from all around until the very idea of them being a genre dissolves. Much better than getting stuck in a rut, I think.

Here's Ms. Newsom with 'In California', all complex poetry and colourful sound and twisty-turny structure:


And here's Mr Pearson with his lovely spare meandering tragicomedy which gets labelled country because he has a beard and an accent but is actually just a great song:



Good, no?

1 comment:

  1. Great blog! Joanna Newsom's got a weird and wonderful voice. Need more recent posts tho. Have the hippies all been on fucking holiday in September?

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