Monday Long Song

If you've been lucky enough to see the great Martin Carthy in concert at any point over the past 50 years, there's a very good chance that you would've heard him perform the daunting 17th century ballad, 'Famous Flower of Serving Men'. As well as being an a staple of his live repertoire, Carthy has also recorded the 32 verse epic on several occasions throughout his career, firstly on 'Shearwater' in 1972 (listen below), again on 'Waiting For Angels' in 2006 and finally the intimate spoken word interpretation on last year's 'Transform Me Then Into a Fish'. There was also an Andy Kershaw session version in 1988, an appearance on limited live album 'At Ruskin Mill' in 2005 and another on a Leigh Folk Festival compilation in 2011. 

I've seen Martin Carthy play 'Famous Flower of Serving Men' perhaps a dozen times over the years, most recently in 2024 - a beautifully frail and hesitant performance. He spoke that day of how the song had captivated him and that he'd returned to it time and again because he never felt that he'd quite nailed it. He was wrong of course. He nailed it every single time. Sadly there will be no more opportunities to see this remarkable man in concert, or to hear further renditions of the song that he's wrestled with for so long. Last month Martin was diagnosed with late-onset Alzheimer's Disease, scuppering plans for a farewell tour with his daughter Eliza that was due to start in the middle of February.

Famous Flower of Serving Men

Friday Photo #71

Over the course of recent weeks, the familiar local landscape underwent not one, but two transformations as a substantial snow covering was quickly followed by torrential rain and flooding. I managed to get out for a wander in the aftermath of both weather events. I'll get to the floods in due course, but today here's a snapshot taken on the first of those memorable walks. I left the house initially intending to check out my immediate locale and just kept walking, eventually arriving back at home some 2½ hours later.  

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Samara Lubelski is an American musician and recording engineer, who has released ten albums under own name and contributed to dozens more by artists such as MV & EE, Sunburned Hand of the Man, Thurston Moore, Fiery Furnaces and Animal Collective. Her fourth solo record, the gently woozy Parallel Suns was a firm favourite in our house circa 2007/8 and still sounds as gorgeous to these ears today.

Samara Lubelski - Snowy Meadows II

Monday Long Song

My love of Kungens Män's music has been well documented on these pages over the years. The many records made by these guys (and their various offshoot projects) weigh heavily on the shelves and floorboards of this house. 'Resande I Rockmusik' (translates as 'Travellers In Rock Music') is the latest groovy addition to both their catalogue and to the likelihood of my gaff's future subsidence. Side Two track one 'Respekt för Naturen' requires no translation, though who amongst us would've guessed that Side One's closer, the ultra Scandinavian sounding 'Skördetröskan', would translate to something as mundane as 'The Combine Harvester'?

Magisk Magi

Maybe

I've accumulated a wealth of Seb Rochford's music over the years, principally in his role as drummer with the great Polar Bear between 2004 and 2015, though also as part of Acoustic Ladyland and Sons of Kemet. All of the above are, to some extent, jazz combos, but his new project, Finding Ways, treads more of a post-rock path. The self-titled album features a rotating cast of guitarists including Verve's Simon Tong, Portishead’s Adrian Utley and Tara Cunningham, who has recently played with both Red Snapper and Modern Nature. Cunningham will be on duty when the Finding Ways tour passes my way in February and I already have a ticket for the show pinned to my digital notice board.

Finding Ways - Maybe

Friday Photo(s) #70

'...a photo, probably taken on my phone while out walking, or maybe an oldie retrieved from the family archive, perhaps even an anonymous antique snapshot plucked from what remains of my collection of such ephemera. To accompany it, a tune, ideally one that's at least partially inspired by the image...'

Long boozy evenings in packed, noisy pubs was very much my thing back in the smoking age, but these days I like nothing better than to push open the door of a near deserted hostelry just after midday, enjoy a couple of quiet pints, then head off home in time for lunch. Only yesterday, as I type these words, I wandered round to my local at a little after 12 to find just one other person in the place, a really friendly old boy in his late 70s who is always surprised when I greet him by name, as he doesn't know mine. We've chatted several times over the past few years and our conversations generally revolve around the same subject - the many former pubs that have disappeared in the 40+ years he's lived in town. He vividly recollects every establishment, the names of their respective landlords and, quite often, a number of the regular characters that propped up the bar in each one. He's quite the raconteur when he gets going. As I got my hat and scarf together, readying myself to leave, my elderly companion stood to shake my hand, wordlessly thanking me for my company. He knows my name now, but by the next time I see him it will probably have slipped away and much of our conversation will be repeated once again. He has early onset dementia, it's been obvious for some time. For now he manages his day to day life by leaving notes to himself around the house and having a structured routine, one which revolves around a quiet lunchtime pint or two in comfortable, familiar surroundings. 

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These anonymous photos of staff in an empty pub probably originate from the mid 1960s and were unearthed by me at a car-boot sale around 10 years ago. I'm grateful that the landlord of my own local is not as sour-faced as the one pictured here appears to be. I think I'd struggle to relax and enjoy my pint with him glaring across the bar at me.  

'The Man Who Loved Beer' is, on the surface, a typically lush Lambchop song (one of my favourites by the band), though on closer lyrical inspection it's an adaptation of a dark ancient Egyptian text 'The Man Who Was Tired of Life'. It originally appeared on their 1996 album 'How I Quit Smoking' and was covered by David Byrne on his 'Grown Backwards' LP in 2004.

Lambchop - The Man Who Loved Beer

Monday Long Song(s)

The rarely attempted Triple Swedeface

Between the summers of 2020 and 2021, John Dwyer (he of The Osees) together with a group of like minded friends, released five instrumental LPs crammed full of fuzzy freaky prog, skronking jazz fusion, pulsating space rock and sundry improvised weirdness. Four of those records ('Bent Arcana', 'Moon Drenched', 'Witch Egg' and 'Gong Splat') quickly became (and remain) firm favourites in my gaff (the fifth, 'Endless Garbage', is still a little too far out, even for me). 

In the Autumn of 2024, with little fuss or fanfare, Dwyer put nearly 3½ hours worth of unreleased sessions from those four LPs up on his Bandcamp page and, in early Summer 2025, the thirty three tunes were issued physically across three double albums. Such is the wealth and breadth of amazing music to go at on these records, I rate them every bit as highly than their parent releases. 

Here's a 20 minute taster of the delights on offer.

Spoiler

The Burn Pit (Take 2)