Jack Hayter has recorded a new session for my Dandelion show, which you can hear from 1 September. If that seems an impossibly long time to wait for something so wonderful, you could do worse than make use of the time in between by checking out Jack's back catalogue. To speed you in that direction, here's a review I did of his Abbey Wood album back in April 2018:
Jack Hayter - Abbey Wood (Gare Du Nord)
The title of Jack Hayter's wonderful new album comes from
the road in which he lived four years ago but the symbol that lies at the heart
of the album's first track 'The Mulberry Tree at Abbey Wood' - which I played
in my Dandelion Radio show last month - is loaded with far great depth
In particular the tree - 'you know the one, there's only
one' as its lyrics tell us - stand as a metaphor that's explored throughout the
collection. It's a collection that's
rich with feelings of solitude, yet it's a resilient solitude, loaded with a
defiant spirit that manages to survive despite hostile surroundings.
On the surface, it's an album about places, but really it's
about the people who give those places their character, characters like 'Fanny
On The Hill', who serves up a liquid dinner with 'whisky for pudding'
Or the narrator of 'I Sent My Love To Bendigo', who fights
his war in the farmyard, in attempt to stop the army from taking his beloved
horse to war. His brother goes to war in
order to end the fighting with his girlfriend over the issue, only to return, broken,
to hang himself at Christmas. Under its
original title of 'Horsemeat For Dogs', we featured an early version of the
track on an Unwashed Territories compilation.
Its redolence has not diminished in the year since.
Similarly 'The Arandora Star', the tale of the ship loaded
with British-based Italian and German civilians that was sunk during World War
II, offers much poignancy against a backdrop of the sad xenophobia of these
times. As with Woody Guthrie's
'Deportees', the power lies in the evocation of individual lives behind the
tragedy - the Italian women who'd helped to build bombers in north Manchester
among them - leaving again a sense of real people devoured by circumstances
they had no role in instigating. I'm
playing the track in my show this month.
it's a powerful collection, but it's also infused with a
gentle, kind spirit. A celebration of
people and places, no less who, like the Mulberry Tree, still stand defiant
despite it all. Among them,
unquestionably, stands Hayter himself.
Get it at here.