MUSIC

Not content with reinventing the folk idiom for the 21st century, Bristol’s Jim Moray has set his sights on dragging morris dancing back into respectability. Julian Owen finds out why.

Jim Moray plays folk music. Whatever the hell that is when it’s at home. “The idea of ‘folk music’ has become so diluted with different meanings that it doesn’t really mean anything,” he sighs. “So if I say ‘I’m a folk musician’, people get confused as to why I’m not either 60, wearing a waistcoat and playing a banjo, or hanging around Start The Bus with a moustache. The term is redundant.” Rock Desk nods in agreement, mindful of the many musicians declaring themselves ‘folk’ apparently by simple virtue of their owning an acoustic guitar. No, you’re a singer-songwriter, Rock Desk will explain patiently, plying a me-centric form first popularised by Joni Mitchell, James Taylor and others of their ilk who dwelt in California’s Laurel Canyon in the late 60s/early 70s. Indeed, it will continue, you could almost argue its proclivity for narcissism makes it the antithesis of folk, though by this time most lecturees will have already done the pull a funny face and slowly edge away thing. Better, on reflection, to repeat the verdict of folk royalty member, Eliza Carthy: “‘Folk’ is about thousands of minds, moulded by generation after generation; it’s not about the inside of one person’s head.”

But it can sometimes take a person to remember that, in folk, the mould is supposed to be broken. A famous chap did it in the 60s and sparked a whole folk revival; Moray released ‘Sweet England’ in 2003 and was heralded as “The most significant musician since Bob Dylan to decide that the folk idiom is the perfect vehicle for his musical adventures and experiments.” In the work since, these adventures have included use of ‘non-folk’ components as hip-hop, heavy electric guitar, and even – shudder – laptop.

 “I’ve always maintained – though people don’t believe me sometimes – that what I do is deeply traditional,” says Moray. “Taking this lineage of songs, things that have been handed down, and messing with them. It’s far more traditional to play using the things around you than it is to encase things in amber, or stuff them. That’s a very 50s/60s folk revival idea, not a traditional one.”

Recently, Moray has begun applying this genuinely traditional vs received notion to folk’s lesser-spotted sibling, morris dancing. Raised in a family of dancers, he quit at the onset of teenhood, but now sees the potential for folk dance to follow folk music into the 21st century. The obstacle, he says, is a familiar one. “A lot of morris sides have a culture of ‘this is the way you do it, because this is the way we’ve always done it’. But those things don’t stretch back hundreds of years, they stretch back 30 years, it’s just what they did when they got together in 1979. A lot of the dancing isn’t particularly good, and the way the music’s played is often at odds with the way they’re dancing. If you’ve got a load of 20something blokes who are fit and can keep up the pressure, and you’ve got musicians that can really play, it can have all the elements that are exciting; people never get to see that, because they’re put off by the ephemera around it. We’ve got a new side in Bristol: the oldest is early 30s, the youngest is 20. It’s what I’ve been doing with music all along: taking things back, but doing them on your terms. All those bits that get the piss taken out of you don’t have to do. You just have to do the bits that are good.”

Arguably Bristol’s most feted musician, each of Moray’s albums has been an award winner. The last, for example, ‘Low Culture’, was awarded the Mojo Folk Album of the Year 2008. Latest, ‘In Modern History’, looks likely to follow a similar path: “A compelling landmark in contemporary folk,” quoth The Independent. Moray takes such garlands with a shovel full of salt. “Mojo gave ‘Low Culture’ that award but didn’t actually review it when it was released,” he reveals. “They haven’t reviewed this one, either. I’ve come to the idea that’s a good thing. I think it takes time for my work to sink in.”

In typically convention-breaking style, ‘...History’ was initially given away on the cover of world music mag Songlines. “The idea was to get them to pay the cost of making the record, so we’d have broken even from day one. If we’d never sold a copy, we’d still be in the same position, but there’d be 40,000 extra people with the album.” The plan worked. June saw the release of a deluxe two-disc version (including a fine ‘making of’ film by Bristol film-maker David Lichfield) and, says Jim, “in three months I’ve sold more copies of this than ‘Low Culture’ sold in 18 months.” Featuring collaborations with Hannah Peel (best known as a member of the Unthanks live band) and Eddie ‘Art Brut’ Argos, it’s a sumptuously fine, beautifully (self- as ever) recorded piece of work. And, seeing as full-band Moray gigs in Bristol are a rare occurrence indeed, you might just want to make the most of this one.

JIM MORAY PLAYED THE THEKLA, BRISTOL ON SUN 26 SEPT. FFI: WWW.JIMMORAY.CO.UK
 

Copyright Julian Owen 2010

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