But folk is a multifaceted beast; its evolution the foundation of sub-genres that are now genres in their own right. Unlike the threadbare shades of recent manufactured country-folk though, Bellowhead’s sound, while still folk, is thrillingly hard to define.
Incorporating an intricate mix of the old and the new, Bellowhead are an 11-piece powerhouse that fuse redundant folk tunes with extraordinarily ambitious and highly original arrangements. While their closest musical comparison is the Celtic punk-folk of The Pogues, Bellowhead’s instrumental range is far greater, their palette of textures and tones far wider, and unlike The Pogues’ frontman Jon Boden isn’t perpetually pissed.
Traditional sounds of mandolins, whistles, fiddles and concertina are still present, but Bellowhead embroider these with bouzouki, sousaphone, oboe and tuba. It’s a stimulating combination. With producer credits going to the legendary John Leckie (Stone Roses, Radiohead, Muse), ‘Broadside’ sparkles with vivacity and captures the exhilarating sound Bellowhead bring to stage.
Their innovative approach to traditional folk songs is nothing short of astonishing. Renovating songs that are anything up to 200 years old is not a straightforward exercise; it takes a great deal of conviction, confidence and skill to be able to adapt and reinvent material in this way. Bellowhead have heaps in abundance of each.
‘Byker Hill’ for instance – an old mining song from the north east – is furnished with lush strings, throbbing tuba and stabbing trumpets to augment the shanty melody. ‘Old Dun Cow’ is given a complete facelift and barely recognisable from its traditional form; in fact it sounds more like an original. Supported by a syncopated riff that blazes like a broken Peter Gunn Theme (on sax, tuba and electric guitar no less), common time is camouflaged until the impulsive break for a sax led coda. Pioneering stuff.
Then there’s ‘The Wife Of The Usher’s Well’ which resembles Michael Nyman’s chamber work. The menacing pulse of strings and percussion drives the song generating a sinister backdrop to complement the ominous theme. Live favourite ’10,000 Miles Away’ is given a new lease of life; the Celtic folk instrumental bed counterbalanced by a crisp brass and string arrangement that could sit contentedly on a Sufjan Steven’s record. Even ‘Betsy Baker’ (a Scottish tune from 1829) is elevated to an air of late 60s baroque pop with its beautiful assembly of strings, brass and oboe woven into the folk tapestry.
Of course Bellowhead are not alone in adopting this form of folk reinvention and nor will they be the last. With the likes of Seth Lakeman, Kate Rusby, Jim Moray, The Unthanks et al pursuing parallel paths of reinterpretation folk as a musical form continues to evolve.
But Bellowhead are prime movers in their field; architects in innovation. They resuscitate obsolete songs with such charismatic beauty to create something startling and original. No one else is doing this on such a grand scale.
Ignore any folk purist denouncing the significance of ‘Broadside’ and remind them how they also bellyached about Bob Dylan, Richard Thompson and The Pogues. Then tell them “…and don’t criticise what you can’t understand“.
Ain’t that right Bob?
