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Folk.

Muggers. Burglars. Aggressive panhandlers. Chris Stein of Blondie and Chris Frantz of Talking Heads were penniless musicians in the New York of the ’70s and ’80s. It was a good day when they were not robbed. However, when they wrote their memoirs (Stein’s Under a Rock and Frantz’s Remain in Love), they did not appear to have much rancor towards those who stole from them, who were just trying to make their way in a city that had its issues. If a drug dealer swindled one of them, and then went on to star in The Sopranos, then that was just the circle of life.

They were also musical and personal partners to astonishingly talented female musicians (Debbie Harry and Tina Weymouth, respectively). They saw behavior that, unfortunately, still plagues the music industry today.  They wished for better morals and supported their partners as they could. They could not speak on behalf of their partners, but in many cases they could understand others wanting to be with their lovers and doing it in a civil way, as they were supremely talented and desirable. There was no ill will towards those who were jealous of them.

Frantz and Stein, along with the many other overlaps and notions of not carrying grudges, were also aligned on one further thing. John Martyn was an unforgivable asshole.

The John Martyn Project are not delicate flowers. Bonding at Music School during late nights of listening to records and enjoying exotic herbs, they bemoaned the fact that such beautiful music came from such a conflicting source. However, it is not their intention to deny the obvious. At their live shows, they often ask the audience to recount their encounters with Martyn. A cheerful nod if you bought him a drink merits a thumbs up. A stream of profane invective, either humorous or threatening, gets an appreciative nod. Actual physical violence from the “Great Man” gets a small round of applause. There is frequently someone in the audience with a story of this latter sort. They are not a “Tribute” band, as they don’t play slavish recreations of recorded tracks, and have no wish to honour the man, but they want to channel his inspiration.

Active as a touring project since 2018 they have now released their first album, The John Martyn Project – Volume One.  It is an amazing refreshing and energizing romp through (mainly) the ’70s highpoints of Martyn’s catalogue.

In not lionizing the man you should not dishonor the things that he did well. Martyn’s focus was his guitar, and there is no shortcut to paying appropriate tribute to the musician, if not the man, if you cannot dazzle in this area. Fortunately, Kit Hawes has the chops. His guitar work is impressive throughout, encompassing the range that Martyn did himself, but also augmenting it. Martyn also worked with the very best over the years. Some, like erstwhile Pentangle bassist Danny Thompson, could both meet his musical standards and share/tolerate his hellraising and were long-term partners. Other musical arrangements were necessarily shorter. But Martyn’s musical standards were always high. The JMP carries all the necessary tools. Jon Short on basses, and John Blakely on drums and percussion, have to embody a range of styles, and do so admirably and inventively.  Blythe Pepino, Kit Hawes, Pete Josef and Sam Brookes provide rhythm guitar and keyboards in various combinations, and do so with elan.

The vocals are a specific revelation and break from their originator. Martyn wrote tunes, to which he later added words and vocals. His voice “weathered” through the years, and his slurred style became more pronounced. This was a stylistic choice, but they fit the style of someone struggling to hold things together. Sometimes things were lost. JMP rotates the vocal duties. Sam Brookes has mastery of the folk style, and can elide but in a cleaner style. He can add pathos without intimidation (this is good!). Hawes and Josef bring cleaner styles.

The addition of a female singer brings something else entirely. Initial success in working with Beverley Martyn turned into a personal failure for John, and a disaster for Beverley. Martyn primarily worked with men throughout his career, and this may have been best for all.  Pepino reclaims and redeems her tracks. On “Don’t Want To Know,” I was never convinced that Martyn preferred love to evil. With Pepino there is no doubt at all, and it is beautiful to hear.

Folk music is for mutual singing, and JMP incorporate this into their shows, and now they provide a rousing version of “May You Never” for you to sing to with them.

The John Martyn Project – Volume 1 is a worthy and guilt-free way to listen to the music of a person who should have been a better man.

Tracks:
1. Intro
2. Go Easy
3. Just Now
4. Head and Heart
5. Stormbringer
6. Bless the Weather
7. May You Never
8. Solid Air
9. Don’t Want to Know

Staat er compleet op, 10% pars mee gepost. Met zeer veel dank aan de originele poster. Laat af en toe eens weten wat je van het album vindt. Altijd leuk, de mening van anderen. Oh ja, MP3 doe ik niet aan.