Have you ever had this experience? You really want to read a certain book; you look for it; you spend a certain amount of time investigating obscure titles; in the end you decide that the book just doesn't exist. Perhaps you even consider writing it. Then one day it turns up on the shelves.
I've been looking for years for a good volume on British folk music, which took the tradition from the first, Edwardian revival right through to the present, with a particular emphasis on the revivals of the 50s/60s and 70s. Even better if it could link them with that strain in British culture which turns naturally towards the past, and is also interested in everything from ley lines, Wicca and folklore to real ale, self sufficiency and the preservation of rural crafts.
Well, here it is. Rob Young has done us all an enormous favour. This is a fabulous book, and, in the current climate, is destined to attract huge attention. One of those sprawling works that truly deserve the description `panoramic survey', it takes us from the early collecting activities of Cecil Sharp, Ralph Vaughan Williams and the Edwardian collectors, through to the rediscovery of folk in the 50s and 60s (Davy Graham, Shirley Collins, Pentangle/Jansch/John Renbourn, Martin Carthy etc) and its metamorphosis into folk rock and acid folk (Fairport Convention/Sandy Denny, Steeleye Span, Incredible String Band, Mr Fox, Trees etc). Along the way different chapters take us off into such diversions as modern witchcraft and the free festival movement. The trip is exciting, interesting and enlightening.
As a guide to this material, Rob Young has got to be hard to beat. Fantastically knowledgeable, he arranges his material intelligently, writes well, draws out fascinating connections and implications, all the while telling a good story full of personal detail and anecdotes.
OK, it's not perfect. Some other reviews have mentioned mistakes, and they are right. A couple of examples: Young describes (p.263) how a mishearing (by Ashley Hutchings) of Bert Lloyd caused Sandy Denny's Arnold/Darnell slip, and then slips himself saying it occurred in Tam Lin (it was, of course, Matty Groves. Since Liege & Lief is widely considered the most influential folk album of the century, that's a trifle embarrassing). Elsewhere he mentions a `twelfth Century Saxon' church (p.399). I offer these for the inevitable second edition. However, this is a monumental book, over 600 pages of densely packed material. It would be amazing if there were no mistakes, and to say it's littered with mistakes is an exaggeration. My own feeling is that the book as a whole is of such a quality that, while the mistakes may be irritating (especially to notoriously fractious folkies) they don't seriously detract.
Secondly, there's the selection of material. Inevitably, I don't agree with all his judgements. He clearly has a higher opinion of the Incredible String Band than I do, and a lower opinion of Steeleye Span (a brilliant touring band). For him, the writers of broadside ballads were low quality hacks bowdlerising much better folk songs; for me they were frequently talented song writers whose existence places a question mark over the whole idea of `authenticity' in the folk tradition. Then there are the inevitable omissions. John Tams has been mentioned. I think an even greater omission is Frankie Armstrong, probably our greatest contemporary interpreter of the long ballad and every bit as important as Anne Briggs. I'm surprised too that Leon Rosselson doesn't merit a mention, given that he represents a strand of militantly left wing folk music that links back to Ewan MacColl (as well as how often his songs have been covered). But these, too, are unimportant criticisms - a writer has to select his or her material and others will inevitably disagree. It's just evidence of how interesting that material is.
There are two criticisms that I think have teeth. One is the low production standards. The copyediting really is poor and the indexing is dreadful. Faber should be ashamed of themselves for letting down their writers in this way. Secondly, Young does seem to lose the plot after the end of the 70s - his chapter on the 80s really is eccentric and peters out before it gets to what will be exciting a lot of his readers - the folk revival going on around us right now.
I'm aware that I've spent a lot of time on what I disagree with in Electric Eden. I hope people will take this for what it is - a measure of the huge respect and admiration for it and its author. The truth is, I have been waiting a long time for someone to write this book, and I was not let down. I enjoyed it enormously and learned a lot. This will be the definitive history for many years.