Jan. 14, 2021
Songs are one of the most persistent forms of human virus, implanting themselves deep within our gray matter and constantly mutating in search of new hosts, spinning off endless versions and variants as they travel across space and time.
Early American folk ballads originated in Scotland and Ireland hundreds of years ago, following their hosts across the ocean, taking root in the mountains of Appalachia and spreading outward from there, carrying archetypal stories of love and death, often intertwined. They may have begun as news reports of actual events, but spoke to more universal human experiences and so became carriers of memory.
One way these songs have survived is through their ability to adapt to all kinds of unlikely hosts through the centuries. Just when you think you know them, they morph into some new form. And so The Bard of Armagh becomes The Unfortunate Rake, becomes One Morning in May, becomes The Cowboy’s Lament, becomes Streets of Laredo, becomes St. James Infirmary, becomes The Whore’s Lament, eventually taking very different form in our time as John Cale’s take on Laredo, Feist’s When I Was a Young Girl, and Bill Frisell’s Spanish Ladies. And that’s just one song.
Which brings us to Very Old Songs, a new limited edition LP/digital release of traditional ballads given a somewhat non-traditional treatment by singer Jordan O’Jordan and cellist Lori Goldston.
O’Jordon was born to sing this music, growing up with it in his family in the Appalachian foothills of eastern Ohio. He knows the material intimately, delivering these songs at a leisurely pace in his lovely, soulful tenor. Goldston is a Seattle treasure, gracing everything she touches, from Bach to punk to free improvisation, with her rich and instantly recognizable tone. The duo approaches these four classic songs in a spirit of gentle experimentation, pushing them into unusual territory while remaining absolutely respectful of the source material.
Sweet William & Lady Margaret is a classic ghost story in which a new bridegroom is visited in his dreams by a dead former lover. Lowlands is a well-known sea shanty, also about a vision of a dead lover. Dreadful Wind & Rain (aka The Cruel Sister) is a murder ballad about a woman who drowns her own sister in order to steal her man. The approach to all three is consistent: a continuous one or two-note drone on harmonium to hang the voice on, with Goldston improvising in and around the tune, filling in the generous spaces between O’Jordan’s sung verses with extended melismatic solos.
Two Ravens (aka Twa Corbies, as I’ve just now learned) is the only song here I was not already familiar with, a memento mori in which the two birds consider their next meal – the corpse of a freshly slain knight – and contemplate the potential uses of his various body parts. Here the harmonium is dropped, as Goldston plays in near unison with O’Jordan’s rendering of the melody.
This album is a testament to just how durable and accommodating these old songs can be, how much life they still have in them, and how much potential they offer to the future. It also shows how ancient traditional material and contemporary experimentalism can play nice together in the hands of thoughtful interpreters, engaging the heart and the head across the ages.