WHISTLING JIGS TO THE MOON

There is something magical and surreal with folk music. Spanning across ages, both in time and mind, it feels like the past is speaking to you. I have been an avid fan of folk since early days and continue to be enthralled by the genre. I should make it clear that I am mostly talking about british folk, though I appreciate the genre of whatever origin. It's just that I, by way of bands such as Kinks and The Who and that lot, have a certain undying love of all british. It's history, culture and in particular musical expression.

From those rain and wind beaten isles comes great albums from Steeleye Span, Pentangle (and all who participated in that group), John Martyn, Fairport Convention, Barry Dransfield, Nigel Mazlyn and the list could go on forever. Sort of. I suppose what I like the most with folk is the sombre, historic tales of events, not seldom quite violent, such as in the classic 'Matty Groves'. Having now laid bare my love of the genre I need to get on with the album at hand.

The sole album by Flibbertigibbet is one of rarity. The name is wonderful and the cover makes you want to crawl inside it and live there. The album has everything going for it. But once again obscurity rears it's head and let's out not a great roar but a somewhat muffled belch, preceded by what could be understood as a yelp of triumph. On the surface there is really nothing wrong. The musicianship is competent and the vocals are very fine indeed. It all comes down to the material itself and how it is interpreted. 'The blackleg miner' is played in blindening speed, which takes the edge of this dramatic song and that is a shame. The remaining tracks are good, especially 'Mariner blues' which really is a top notch song. One could summarize this album as being good but not outstanding in any way. There are so many other, greater albums to invest time and money in.

Musically it can be likened to Trees, Fairport, Steeleye and many of the classic folk groups of the era, that is the 1970 's. Flibbertigibbet never reaches the heights of any of those groups finest moments. Instead it simmers more than boils with excitement. Nothing out of the ordinary, good but not the least essential.