Rachael McShane is the sole female member of 11-piece folk outfit Bellowhead: a group who’ve won the BBC2 Folk Award for Best Live Act three out of the past five years. ‘No Man’s Fool‘ is Rachael’s solo debut.
Evolving slower than contemporary forms, traditional folk steeped in tradition conjures up images of a working past entwined with eloquent and sometimes captivating melodies. Though other musical categories, such as jazz, share this capacity, updating folk music is risky business. Nevertheless, though McShane clearly holds tradition in high regard, she also bears a similar regard for the modern and, to prove it, she’s employed the talents of a trio who are more used to playing funk than folk; and boy does it show.
Though folk and funk are four-letter words beginning with f and ending in k, the similarity dies there. With the culture and heritage of both worlds being so incredibly different, how does McShane’s fusion offering fare?
Well, thankfully, she’s not bearing any of those hideous ‘anti-folk’ hallmarks that certain American acoustic singer-songwriters have hung themselves upon; no, McShane is not so recalcitrant. Groups like Smoke Fairies or solo artist Jim Moray haven’t pushed envelopes so much as they simply invested a little in other genres, and it’s to McShane’s credit that she’s stepped further: ‘Maid on the Shore’ is a prime example of that. Though driven by a heavy funk backing of horns, wah guitars and a groovy breakbeat – McShane still manages to tether the song to the folk floor with well delivered vocals and some funky violin work. Yes, that is an unusual notion – funky, yet folky violin. But wait, before any purists baulk, vomit into their aging, vintage Martin guitars and burn them in protest, songs such as ‘The Drowned Sailor’, ‘The Gardener’ and ‘The Highwayman Outwitted‘ are drifty, wilting. piano-led numbers which’ll cheer all trad folkies from the spindly to the stout.
‘No Man’s Fool‘ is at its best when McShane is ramping up vocal harmonies and driving the track with passion as on ‘The Broomfield Wager’. Sadly, the production on the album is of the clean, ‘soul’ variety which, ironically, tends to strip soul from wherever it’s in operation. Dirtier production would have been the preferred option for this earthy album that so desperately wants to get down with the roots of jazz and funk, but is simply too refined to do so.
An assured debut from a talented woman, it’s just not explosive enough to rattle the cages.
