It happens as regular as clockwork. Someone, somewhere (normally a journalist from The Guardian or Billy Bragg) can be heard to mutter that there “just aren’t any political singers anymore”. They complain that no one cares, that there is no one to tell the stories or stoke the fires.
They haven’t heard the latest visitor to Downend Folk Club; Ewan McLennan is exactly the kind of voice that Billy Bragg wants to hear.
A proud Scot who finds himself living a mighty long way from home, just up the road in Easton, McLennan has been making quite a name for himself over the last few years. From a debut album that won him a Horizon Award at the BBC Folk Awards to an invitation to take part in the wonderful Transatlantic Sessions he is quintessentially a “Downend Folk Club Artist”. Intelligent song-writing coupled with virtuoso playing, left leaning political sensibility and a big book of dreadful banjo jokes, the perfect mix of new and traditional songs. He is everything that we gather for once a month.
After a slightly nervy start where he allowed his songs to speak for him McLennan proved himself to be a charming host. As he relaxed into the evening so the songs flowed from him, hitting the spot like a fine whisky. They were timeless. On “Coat of Gold” and “Down the Line” he soared above sun dappled and heather strewn landscapes painting pictures of a time that probably never existed, but we all wish had. His songs are romantic without being twee, powerful without being angry. He’s a great story teller too; a folk troubadour in the finest style and one that uses he roots to his advantage.
It was the politics that kept shining through though. When folk music is at its very best it tells us stories of real people doing small things that have a huge impact. Stories of fights with Glasgow tenement landlords in 1916 stood shoulder to shoulder with a tale about Scottish engine makers foiling a coup in Santiago. It was Ian Campbell’s anti-war polemic “The Old Man’s Tale” that drew rapturous applause, however, with its final line, “I’m not sure how to change things, but by Christ we’ll have to try!” Who would have thought that we were such a revolutionary bunch!
As an encore McLennan gave us another Scottish Traveller tune, “I’m a Man You Don’t Meet Every Day”. How true that was.
Before all of the rabble-rousing and romanticism there was something different altogether. Nibs Van Der Spuy is a South African musician on a short U.K tour. He bought the sunshine with him as well as the merest dash of Beatles-y whimsy. A sweet, high, nasal voice carried tunes that immediately transported the appreciative audience to somewhere altogether warmer than an October Frenchay evening. Supple and sensuous guitar playing added to the feeling of watching something really quite special.
It happens as regular as clockwork. Downend Folk Club put on yet another fantastic night with yet more fantastic singers. No one mutters a complaint. Billy Bragg would be pleased.
Gavin McNamara
TallFolk 