Bath Forum
Bellowhead were always going to come back. Jon Boden wanted to develop his own band and song-writing career, but once he was back in the duo with John Spiers, the rest of the outfit were sure to follow. The streaming revival during lockdown sealed the deal.
This is billed as a reunion but it won't be the last time we see them. There's no-one else doing folk in quite this way: loud, theatrical, with a kind of comic-strip silliness. There's twelve of them and they perform on big stages; there are blocks at different heights around the stage, so one almost feels one is looking into a folkies playground. Jon stands on a raised soapbox at one corner of the stages, raising his hand in a rockstar pose to the people who have left their seats to dance, and then rushing to address the people in the other corner. Someone brings him dark glasses and an electric guitar, just because. The brass section describe themselves as having dress for a a kitsch gangster movie; the fiddlers, all sparkly jackets and light-up shoes, for Saturday night fever. Sam Sweeny is happy to pogo dance while he fiddles and jumps from a considerable height at the end of the last song.
But there's no getting round it: this isn't a proper Bellowhead reunion and can't be. If the group coalesced around the Spiers and Boden duo, the third point of the triangle was always Paul Sartin's traditional voice and mordent wit. ("This tune was written in 1651. Which is a tricky time signature.") He wrote a lot of Bellowhead's signature arrangements including London Town and New York Dolls.
But his absence doesn't sap the joy from the evening; in a funny way, it enhances it. About half an hour into the show, the words "Paul Sartin 1971-2022" are projected onto the back of the stage, and a beautiful recording of him singing Brisk Lad (unaccompanied) is played. It's a folk standard but it may originally have been collected from one of Paul's ancestors. The band gradually come in and accompany the song, but not enough to drown out Paul's unmistakable voice. It's hard to listen to and it must have been incredibly hard to perform, but they go straight into a fast dance before the standing ovation is over.
And the show seems to gain energy from that moment: from then the audience is on their feet; dancing, joining in. (The lady next to me, who had come with a group and knew nothing of the band, was fully committed to being UP to the jigs and DOWN to the rigs of London town.)
Jon Boden had actually published a small press-release at the beginning of the tour, responding to people who had complained about the sound mix. Bellowhead is not attempting to be a chamber orchestra: it's aiming at the wall-of-sound effect of a rock and roll gig. They are certainly very loud: and it does seem a little pointless to talk about the "story" in a song where you have no chance whatsoever of hearing the words. (I felt this perhaps spoiled a very atmospheric Wife of Usher's Well.) But largely, volume, tunes, silliness and occasional avant garde touches carry the day. Jon still sings the peculiar Black Beetle pie through a megaphone.
All the big numbers are present and correct: not only London Town and New York Girls, but also Haul Away, Roll Alabama, Roll the Woodpile Down, Thousands or More, a Thousand Miles Away, Lilly Bolero, Rosemary Lane, Byker Hill and the infectious instrumental ones like Slo Gin and Dragons Teeth and Frogs Legs. I occasionally still think that the arrangement renders the song irrelevant -- I'd like to hear Jon doing the Old Dun Cow a little straighter (Macantire!). But there are basically nothing like Bellowhead in the world and I don't see how there ever could be. They are loved by people who don't think they would like folk music, and heartily approved of by people who do. They won't be back next year or the year after, but they will certainly be back.
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I'm Andrew.
I am trying very hard to be a semi-professional writer and have taken the leap of faith of down-sizing my day job.
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