The Unthanks - Diversions Vol. 5
A collection of songs recorded during the Unthanks tour last year, when they returned to their roots, singing unaccompanied and in harmony. More a miscellany of tunes than a curated collection, this is nonetheless what traditional folk music is all about - reflecting on hard times with both stoicism and good humour. It's a timely reminder of happier times, when folk congregated in big rooms and listened to other people singing.
If you cast your mind back to a time when folk congregated in big rooms and listened to other people singing, you might recall the Unthanks performed at Norwich’s Open back in May of last year. Live And Unaccompanied is a collection of songs recorded during that tour, and while none are from the Norwich performance (the music here is taken from shows in Newcastle, Dublin, London, Brighton, Durham, Bellaghy and Belfast) it will assuredly bring back memories of happier times.
Following on from their ambitious orchestral explorations, The Unthanks have moved on again, to perhaps the only place left to them – back to their roots, singing unaccompanied and in harmony. The Unthank sisters, Becky and Rachel, have been joined on this recording by Niopha Keegan, who adds only the lower register of a fine singing voice, adding much to the resonance of their harmonies. The album opens as it means to go on, with their three voices blending blissfully on One by One. The stark sound separation of the recording takes a little getting used to (I had to take the earphones off after a while, after distractedly trying to work out who was singing in which ear) but settle in and you will be rewarded with a mesmerising sound. Magpie follows on – one of only three songs to have previously appeared elsewhere –and nostalgically brings to mind the East Anglian summers of Mackenzie Crook’s Detectorists.
We’re never far away from misery when in the company of the Unthanks, and I'm Weary of Lying Alone doesn’t disappoint, though it is swiftly counterpointed by the jaunty Geordie Wedding Set that follows. While the altogether more substantial Grisly Bride, which Becky carries off to brilliantly spooky effect, is a highlight of this recording, its effect is somewhat diminished by the sweetly honeyed Bees that comes after. It’s a disorientating pattern that continues with a haunting rendition of Johnny Handle’s Guard Yer Man Weel. While variety is welcome, it’s just a bit odd to become immersed in the melancholy of Poor Mum, only to be poked in the ribs by the cheeky Where’ve Yer Bin Dick.
I’m guessing the Unthanks would argue that this is what traditional folk music is all about - reflecting on hard times with both stoicism and good humour – that it is what the music is for. I would counter that it makes for a fragmented recording - more a miscellany of tunes than a curated collection. In the absence of a trajectory, I found it too easy to poke around the selection instead of letting the music come to me, and that is a pity. Towards the end of the recording, the run of We Picked Apples, Bread and Roses and Caught in the Storm offered an insight into how well this album could have worked, if only the individual songs had been chosen and ordered with a clearer view of their bedfellows.
It’s a collection that ends with the crowd participation of Farewell Shanty - a rare window through which we get a sense of the concerts these songs were taken from –something that points to the central problem here. I understand why they couldn’t just present those concerts unedited - as I recall they do like a natter – but what is therefore missing is the evident and hugely affecting bond between the three of them. It leaves us with the audacious performance, unadorned and unaccompanied, which does offer the opportunity for Unthank fans to hear something very different from them. As a recording, however, it lacks both the light and shade of their other work, and the warmth of the performances from which these songs are culled.
7/10
