Privileged Paradox
This was an exquisite gig, Sam Lee and Friends playing a
solo set [no support] in two wonderful segments. There were songs from Lee’s
first album
Ground of its Own,
reviewed
here, and from his recent second,
The
Fade in Time, reviewed
here.
This is folk music at its most traditional and modern,
nothing paradoxical in the re-presenting of songs Lee searches out and learns
from the gypsy/traveling community largely across the British Isles and then
translates through contemporary arrangements to continue their transmission
beyond the oral/sung tradition that would otherwise diminish over time. Even if
that tradition could survive, Lee and Friends are introducing this to a new and
wider audience, and we are privileged to receive.
The contemporary arrangements I mention are themselves
rooted in tradition and modernity – courting contradiction again – but this is
embraced by the instruments used and the interpretations played. Sam Lee himself
on shruti box, when playing it, provides an amplified resonance of sound as it
pulses beneath melodies; Jon Witten on Mongolian dulcimer taps out delicate
soundscapes, provides plaintive to upbeat backdrops on electric piano, and
plucks and strums on ukulele; acclaimed violinist Flora Curzon provides
beautiful defined melodic lines as well as deeply atmospheric strokes, and
percussionist Josh Green delivers both touch and considerable energy through his
various rhythms, including the range of a tabla tone to a booming on his bass gourd.
I stress the above to celebrate this dynamic band but also
because on record with, for example, the addition of jazzy trumpet and other,
the arrangements are expansive and full of depth when complementing the traditional
songs. It was natural to wonder how this would be matched in a live set with a
smaller collective, but the performance was as refined to powerful as on record.
For example, Jonny O’ The Brine which
opens Lee’s latest album is on record full of trumpet and effects; live at the
Phoenix it was as fulsome in the energy and volume produced on stage – Green’s
driving beat contributing considerably here.
Sam Lee’s vocal is majestic: sonorous clarity perhaps best
describing, though it quite simply has to be heard. There is an excellent
article on Sam
here which provides huge detail about his life growing up and
the passion now for seeking out and archiving on record and in performance the
songs he sings. Sam himself informs us of elements of this at the gig, for
example, when explaining the personal significance of a song like
Jews Garden that is played, and the
background story to the beautiful ballad
The
Moon Shone on My Bed Last Night, also played. Other gems performed often with
background stories – well, every single song shone – were
The Ballad of George Collins,
Bonny
Bunch o’ Roses,
Moorlough Maggie,
Phoenix Island,
Airdog, and the sweet
Lovely Molly which was sung a cappella,
sans microphones, as an encore.
If you can catch Sam Lee and friends on tour, you absolutely
must. It goes without saying you must also buy his/their records.
