Pages tagged “kate rusby”

Rusby for president... of the Folk Music Preservation Society

Kate Rusby’s bonus-track cover of Ray Davies’ “The Village Green Preservation Society” adds a delightful context to the characters she sings about on the mostly traditional but in-touch Awkward Annie. While you take in the English folk singer’s angel-sweet voice, backed by simple strings and the occasional accordion or horn, picture her own Village Green Preservation Society meeting: All her characters attend. John Barbury and Jane, about to have a baby out of wedlock, wait anxiously in the front row. Sitting together in the back are heartbreakers Awkward Annie, who hopped on a horse and rode away from her admirer, and the Bitter Boy, who “walked for miles through stormy weather” with a girl, then left her. The old man who claimed he “could do as much work in a day / as his wife could do in three” runs into the meeting late, followed by his grinning wife, proud to have proved him wrong. The sailor boy’s sweetheart sits alone by the door, still sore from the grief of a sad farewell. The meeting begins, and the townspeople talk about conserving the streams of the Nancy, milking the cows before they dry up and sending off the eastbound sailors. Rusby’s Awkward Annie is a welcome respite from the complicated life of a commoner.

Listen to Kate Rusby's cover of "The Village Green Preservation Society" from Awkward Annie:

Beloved English folksinger Kate Rusby has been surrounded by music all her life, so it's only logical that these days, only in her thirties, she's earned the nickname "the Barnsley Nightingale," as well as four BBC Radio 2 Folk Awards. Currently on tour to promote her newest album, Awkward Annie, Rusby is a very busy girl. So busy, in fact, that Paste had to conduct the interview via email. Despite her time constraints, Kate opened up to tell us about her first time producing an album, the folk music chip she was born with and all of the things that make her happy. Other than singing, of course.

English folkie remains grounded

On “Game of All Fours,” the opening track from The Girl Who Couldn’t Fly, Kate Rusby displays all that’s best about her music and the modern English folk song in general. A gorgeously simple lyric and tune blossom under Rusby and husband/producer John McCusker’s arrangement—full of gentle brass backgrounds and emotive holding patterns—allowing the song to simmer in its own musical and lyrical innuendo. It’s an alchemy Rusby discovered on Underneath the Stars, her “folk music for people who don’t like folk music” breakthrough, and which she nurtures throughout Girl on songs ancient (“Bonny House of Airlie”), modern (her own “The El?n Knight”) and combinations thereof (“A Ballad,” traditional lyrics set to Rusby’s music). The results are far less compelling when Rusby and McCusker steer from traditionally informed arrangements, like on pedestrian singer/songwriter effort “Moon Shadow” and the ill-advised version of “You Belong to Me.” While some nods to the modern-pop zeitgeist work (Graham Coxon’s cover art), others (Idlewild singer Roddy Woomble’s vocals) prove considerably less harmonious.

Britain’s wonderful folk artist Kate Rusby has mesmerized fans for more than a decade with her glistening renditions of old, old stories, accompanied by old, old instruments, that have—despite modern marketing theory—galvanized an impressive cache of young, young listeners attracted to her modest beauty and stubborn respect for a long-lasting musical and cultural tradition. On the surface, the task seems too easy: put the lass in front of a quality microphone, hand-pick a few of the isles’ most talented musicians, and sing and play—a winning formula that allows Rusby’s distinctive voice to clearly elucidate tales of love lost to the surrounding Little Lights, this shy angel tinkered with that formula, to moderate success. But, to Compass Records’ credit, Rusby and her clan, including her husband and producer John McCusker and her brother and sound engineer Joe, are allowed to manage their own way. This new album, Underneath The Stars is, as if n’arly possible, Rusby’s finest effort yet—a declaration of musical adulthood. Simply, Rusby and McCusker take one step back to move two forward. The relatively austere arrangements take the singer to where she started, the delightfully fresh Hourglass that established her as Britannia’s new formidable folk force. Stars, though, evinces a matured Rusby who takes a few more chances with her delivery while operating within her most comfortable contexts. With the possible exception of the first tune, “The Goodman,” which opens with a scratchy, slightly funky riff, this new album is shorn of pop nuances that distanced Little Lights slightly from the indigenous folk elements of Rusby’s earlier recordings. The focus here is on Rusby’s beautiful voice and her ever-maturing ability to illuminate and compose tragic tales, serving as a voice for the forlorn. Besides her multi-talented hubby, Rusby is backed by the first cut of Britain’s folk elite, including sterling performances by guitar-mandolin wiz Ian Carr and double bassist Ewan Vernal. Indeed, just halfway through the opener, the performance is entrenched in the unfettered scraping lovers of British folk die for. Throughout the CD, especially on Rusby’s compositions “Young James” and “Falling,” Carr sets the tone, deftly intertwining his nifty notes with Kate’s lilting narrations while Vernal’s subtle vamping brings a contrapuntal balance to Rusby’s tragic balladeering. All of this takes place in the midst of McCusker’s expressive bowing and Andy Cutting’s accordion backdrops. Two other Rusby-worded madrigals, including the intimate, wry title song (“Underneath the stars I’ll greet you … Before you go of your own free will / Go gently”), are underscored by the Grimethorpe Colliery Band’s eloquent brass. In the end, McCusker’s greatest production achievement is similar to what the finest artists, photographers, and chefs have done—let the beauty shine, adorned yet unencumbered by sensitively crafted accompaniment. That’s all his luminous wife needs to make a great album, which Underneath The Stars certainly is. | jeff cebulski

There are generally two ways of presenting folk music: to electrify/modernize it or to strive to present it as it was likely performed decades or centuries ago, with no variation or contemporary influences. Traditional British folk singer Kate Rusby opts for a rather nifty middle ground. She reaches into the rich history of the U.K. (not just England’s) folk tradition, albeit with judicious use of piano, drums and brass as seasoning, along with the usual guitar, whistle and accordion, but she doesn’t rock it up nor does she dumb it down in the quest for that Wider Audience. Rusby sings in a lilting, wistful, sweet-sad voice that’s downright captivating in its gentle, resigned sincerity, and she forgoes the stiff, staid “purity” that leads so many traditional performers to Dullsville. 10 is a retrospective of live, re-recorded and new songs spanning Rusby's 10-year career that stacks up very well against her three solo albums (Rusby was also a member of The Poozies). And it serves as a definitive introduction to the sumptuous talents of Ms. Rusby.