Seth Lakeman
Oxford Town Hall
There is a clear gender divide among tonight’s audience at Oxford Town hall to see Seth Lakeman, the man credited with saving British folk music. While the men look as though they are dressed for a Green Party conference, the women – or should that be girls? – are definitely dressed for a night on the town. This might have something to do with Lakeman’s undoubted status as the uncontested pin-up of folk music. And I mean uncontested. With his boyish good looks and casual appearance, jeans and a black tee-shirt, Lakeman wouldn’t look out of place on The X-Factor, although his brand of folk-rock, with its roots in Cornish folklore certainly would not win him any fans on the talent contest – or should that be musical impressions show? – where your chances of winning decrease in direct proportion to your originality. And Lakeman is certainly an original, despite the centuries-old musical tradition behind him.
Lakeman kicks off with “Hurler Boys”, the rocky opener from his most recent album, Poor Man’s Heaven. Like much of Lakeman’s best work, it is steeped in Celtic folklore and tells the story of young men from Bodmin who would be cursed and turned to stone, for playing the ancient game of hurling when they should be in chapel. It is difficult to believe that acoustic instruments can sound so urgent. Or so loud. The song provides Lakeman with ample opportunity to show off his virtuoso fiddle-playing while singing at the same time, something he makes look and sound entirely natural.
Later, he proves he is equally adept on the tenor ukulele. Lakeman and his band, which includes brother Sean on guitar and the outstanding Ben Nicholls on bass, reference his back catalogue playing songs from all his previous albums and even a few from next year’s Hearts and Minds, before returning to the musical seascapes explored on Poor Man’s Heaven. The music is dark and muscular, never more so than on “Solomon Browne”, the name of the Penlee lifeboat which went down off the Cornish coast with all 16 seamen on board in 1981. The bluesy “Preacher’s Ghost” could have been written for this gloomily lit wedding cake of a building, dominated by a huge organ, before the pace changes again with a new song “Changes”, featuring a gorgeous pizzicato violin.
At this point I thought I detected another pre-recorded violin track in the background, however, with even Lakeman’s own violin so low down in the mix, and far too much bass and “middle” to the fore, creating an almost Phil Spectorish wall of sound, it was sometimes difficult to know exactly where the music was coming from. But this should take nothing away from the authenticity and commitment of Lakeman’s own performance, never more evident than on the thrilling “Kitty Jay,” played solo by Lakeman to a pounding electronic drum track. The band returned for a trio of encores culminating in “Race to be King”, featuring Nicholls’ playing the Jew’s harp, the perfect climax to this town hall hoedown.
Lakeman has succeeded in making folk music sexy – the giggling schoolgirls who travelled home on the same bus as me certainly thought so.
Cary Gee
