Martin Carthy is the supreme archaeologist of our musical heritage. Accompanied only by his guitar, and not even that on three of these tracks, he delivers traditional songs as compellingly as a fireside storyteller. 1971's 'Landfall' is one of his more melancholy collections, beginning with the wry farewell of a convict about to be transported. The tale of 'Brown Adam' is more upbeat and is a fine example of Carthy's hypnotic playing. 'O'er The Hills' poignantly evokes the longing for home of a soldier abroad. 'Cruel Mother', the most chilling track on the album, features an unaccompanied vocal. It's a reminder of the terrible things the human race is capable of. 'Cold Haily Windy Night', another tale of a troubled soldier, sees Carthy on top form with his guitar again.
'His Name Is Andrew' is the first of three modern songs. It was written by David Ackles, an American with a flair for dramatic and generally melancholy contemporary folk tales. It's beauty is in its bleakness, the title character having his faith undermined to the extent that he endures a living death. Perhaps it should have been left until last as it's a difficult track to follow. 'The Bold Poachers' though is taut and grim, telling of the consequences of a conflict between poachers and gamekeepers. 'Dust To Dust' was written by Carthy's sometime collaborator, John Kirkpatrick, and is another unaccompanied vocal track. The singer here is the voice of a gravedigger who makes light of his varied 'clients' - what will be will be. The lyric to the love song 'The Broomfield Hill' has a wonderfully slick rhythm which Carthy matches with some deft guitar. 'The January Man', which closes the album, is another modern song performed unaccompanied. Each line describes life in terms of a different month and its weather, progressing toward the old age of December before returning to the original portent of January.
It's a shame that so many people who profess to love popular music with 'meaning' blind themselves to traditional music, which, handed down over centuries has evolved into something far richer than any modern artist (and I include Dylan) can provide. Folk's dour finger-in-the-ear image doesn't help, but listening to albums like 'Landfall' can only help.