There has been much talk recently of a ‘revival’ in modern folk music. This ignores the fact that boundary-pushing, experimental, avant-garde approaches to traditional songs have been present under the surface for as long as the songs themselves. Experimentalism, in fact, is integral to them. It is what has kept them alive through the centuries. Exciting as it is, the current scene is undergoing less of a ‘revival’, more a moment of attention from the music world at large; a lifting of a rock to reveal the life that has long been thriving underneath.
The astonishing False Lankum has received a hitherto-unseen amount of mainstream acclaim, but it is also the result of many decades that the band’s members have spent exploring the outer limits of folk and trad music, whether as a foursome or in their individual practises. Its vast swings of emotion have always been present in their work to some degree, the juxtapositions more and more pronounced with each record (not least thanks to the influence of producer John “Spud” Murphy). Here – from the overwhelming gothic horror of ‘Go Dig My Grave’ and the tempestuous melodrama of ‘The New York Trader’, to the swooning romance of ‘Newcastle’ and the gorgeous melancholia of ‘Lord Abore And Mary Flynn’ – they supercharge that aspect, taking their music to unparalleled levels of extremity.
The risk, of course, is that extreme mood swings often come at the expense of consistency across an LP. Lankum, however, avoid that pitfall. Recorded in a Martello Tower off the coast of Ireland, they’re tied together by a running theme of the ocean that emerged subconsciously in that location, as well as by a number of abstract instrumental ‘Fugue’ pieces dotted throughout. Cut from the same lengthy experimental jam session, instruments clatter and float around as if suspended in mid-air, providing a binding agent as they gradually arrange themselves into the shape of whatever song comes next. The immediate experience of listening to False Lankum is intense; one minute you’re barraged like a raft in a tempest, and the next floating along serenely in a stretch of calm, warm water. Zoom out, however, and you’ll find a record that captures the sublimity and scale of an entire ocean.
