No, not that one, the other one…
It seems FRoots magazine is in financial trouble. A kickstarter page has been created to raise £20,000 towards buying editor Ian A Anderson and his small team enough time to revamp the business model while still continuing to create the magazine.
I hugely admire Ian for creating and running the magazine since 1977 or thereabout, and I wrote for it a fair bit in the 90s, and the odd time since. I’m not really ‘in the folk world’ but I believe it would suffer without this delightfully quirky and ornery organ of (needed) publicity and comment. I’ve pledged something myself. Here’s the link:
Jorrox says
I read it from around 86 to somewhere in the 90s. I still have them too. But I got fed up with his sneery attitude to White Anglo Celtic Folk Rockers. Wackfers or whatever he called them. I won’t miss it if it goes.
Kaisfatdad says
I suspect that a lot of up-and-coming artists and small record companies will miss it.
retropath2 says
I enjoyed it in the 80s too, until, perhaps as suggested by Jorrox, it became too snootily up it’s own arse, endlessly articling archives of madagascan nose flute traditions rather than local home-grown. And, sadly, Songlines do the former much better. And i have R2R (Rock’n’Reel) for the latter. It was great for it’s time, the 80s NWOBFM, but hasn’t moved with any time since.
Wayfarer says
I subscribed to the original Rock ‘n’ Reel which was a broadsheet newspaper format. It went under (along with my subscription) then reappeared as a magazine. The content is not so different from what it was – just the appearance. There’s no reason why fRoots shouldn’t dodge the bullet.
JustB says
If a mainstream music magazine like Word couldn’t hack it in the marketplace, I don’t see what chance something like fRoots has. Seems to me that any money donated now will just be delaying the clearly inevitable, no?
Mike_H says
The Word’s problem was it’s very broad remit. They couldn’t best Mojo’s and Uncut’s dominance.
It seems the only other music magazines that are surviving are the ones specialising in a style or a genre.
Having said that, Songlines are indeed already covering the “World” demographic successfully. Not familiar with R2R so I can’t comment on how well the “Folk” crowd are being catered to. I used to get FRoots occasionally but haven’t looked at a copy for at least the last 10 years.
Songlines, the magazine, appears to be getting subsidised by it’s World Music Travel operations. Not sure it’d survive without that tie-in.
I can’t really see what FRoots could do to improve it’s business model. It probably needs to get itself taken over by a bigger specialist publisher. Someone like the Mark Allen Group, who have continued to publish Jazzwise magazine successfully.
The Good Doctor says
Yep Mike H is spot on. I presume you’ve not perused the music section of WH Smiths recently?. The Mojo, Uncut and Q are the last ‘general’ music mags standing – Mojo and Uncut pretty much fighting over the same dwindling audience- not sure who Q is aimed at – judging by the last issue I looked at it was 40something Oasis fans who are having a mid-life crisis/newly divorced and feel they need to mug up on mainstream R&B/Chart music.
The racks of my WH Smith are otherwise groaning with very genre specific mags – Electronic Sound, Classic Pop, Wire, Vive Le Rock, Louder than War, Shindig, Kerrang, Planet Rock, Metal Hammer, DJ, and Mixmag is still going and still owned by Development Hell who published Word which speaks volumes doesn’t it?
JustB says
I’m sure you’re right. I can’t remember the last time I went in WHSmiths or bought a magazine of any kind, so I was just guessing. I suppose these things work on the basis that there’s a minute number of potential buyers for these niche titles, but every single one of them (theoretically) buys it? (I’m amazed anybody buys Wire: I had about 6 months of trying with it, but my god, you could smell the tedious snobbery on every page. Maybe it’s changed, or developed a sense of humour.)
Asking for £20 grand from your supporters to keep your magazine temporarily afloat also kind of speaks volumes, though, doesn’t it?
Mike_H says
FRoots is one of three mags competing for the same niche, and the other two seem to be doing a better job catering to it, currently. They perhaps need to alter their editorial policy to a less uptight model and they probably need to attract some different writers, but there lies a problem. How to attract writers with no money in the coffers to pay them.
If they do get their cash injection, I hope they don’t squander it on just trying to make the mag look prettier on the newsstands.
Wayfarer says
I’ve been an avid reader since around 1986 and I’d be sorry to see it go, so I’ve donated. I’ve tried some of the alternatives but they don’t float my boat.
Vulpes Vulpes says
So fRoots (or at least the editor) has attitude and relishes it. Good for fRoots says I. How boring things would be if everything in every magazine article trod the familiar paths; it would be like reading Uncut all the time.
I’m an occasional dipper – as I am with Songlines – and I can honestly say there’s never been an issue I’ve read that hasn’t led me to investigate at least one artist I’d not previously heard, and with whom I’ve subsequently established a long term affection. So for that reason, they owe ME money, the bastards.
Despite that, I really hope they can survive, though I have no idea what the “business model” might be that allows them to do so.
Kid Dynamite says
Quite. It doesn’t seem like they actually have a plan that they just need some cash to implement, more like they’re trying to stave off the inevitable for a few more months and hoping they’ll come up with something. They’d probably be best off getting into bed with Proper Distribution, if they could hack the perceived loss of independence – I suspect Proper rely on them for at least some of their sales and would miss them if they go. There’s a deal to be done there.
I haven’t read it for years, for most of the same reasons people have alluded to above, but they once put Blyth Power on the cover, and so I will forever have a soft spot for them, even if it was probably their worst selling issue ever.
Baron Harkonnen says
Unfortunately I prefer the alternatives, too much up it`s own bottom is fROOTS. I`m gonna donate, because hopefully the appeal succeeds and it may cause an editorial rethink.
Moose the Mooche says
IA’s review of Dylan’s World Gone Wrong album in FR is legend. To give you a clue as to its tone, it concluded with the phrase “talent-fucked bastard”.
Blue Boy says
Yes I remember that. How wrong could he be? What a magnificent record that is.
ernietothecentreoftheearth says
I think his anger was driven largely by what he saw as Dylan’s unprincipled amd uncredited lifting of a Nic Jones arrangement. The latter being so e one who had by that time been unable homework for a decade and might have benefited from a credit.
Moose the Mooche says
Accusing Dylan of plagiarism? I’ve never heard the like!
Blue Boy says
Here’s an exchange on Charlie Gillet’s forum in which Ian Anderson comments on all this and reproduces his reviews of ‘Good as I Been To You’, which is actually the record that really got his goat, and then ‘World Gone Wrong’. Actually I don’t think he’s far wrong about the former.
http://www.charliegillett.com/bb/viewtopic.php?f=1&t=8886
Colin H says
I was in a rush earlier when I posted the OP, and didn’t have time to set out my appreciation of fRoots (or Folk Roots as-was – I’ve always found the ‘fRoots’ name annoying). In short, I probably owe Ian Anderson/Folk Roots a lot, on a personal level. During the 90s Ian was one of the first editors to give me opportunities, and I always liked that there was no magazine policy, no corporate bollocks – just him. And sometimes he went with an enthused freelancer’s ideas, even if he was doubtful.
I recall him giving me an okay to a short interview with David Gray circa 1994, based on my enthusiasm for David’s ‘A Century Ends’ album, when he was playing to 25 people in bars around Ireland – his only concession to doubt being to strapline the piece ‘Colin Harper reckons we need a rasping Welsh Dylan…’ – but he gave me the space, and that remains one of the few pre-White Ladder DG pieces published.
Even before that, in 1993, he gave me a cover feature on Bert Jansch at a time when I was working full-time in a really shitty night-shift job. I wrote that piece during a couple of ‘lunch breaks’ at 2am. And within a ciouple of months I’d got a mortgage and resigned (in that order) in order to pursue full-time writing. I paid that mortgage as a full-time writer for the next 7 years. Years later, in 1999, Ian A was a great help to me in my research for my first book, ‘Dazzling Stranger’, by giving me access to the Eric Winter archive in his home and giving a terrific interview about London in the 60s. I gave up my free copies a number of years back because I felt that my tastes had moved away from most of the folk music covered by FR, and my copy would be better given to someone else. But I bought an Ian A blues CD recently, and enjoy it, and I’ve bought the odd copy of the mag in recent times.
I’m not a lefty (like most of the English folk world), I don’t really go for most world music (just not my thing), and I never cared for the Clash (seemingly like most lefty folkies of a certain age). But I believe the world would be a poorer place without people like Ian A and without fRoots.
I’ll see if I can dig up a few old pieces I wrote for the mag in the 90s. Can’t find the David Grey one but here’s one with Andy Irvine from around 2000:
ANDY IRVINE
Having been through the music business mill several times over the past thirty-five years, with spells in such legendary and pioneering Irish music ensembles as Sweeney’s Men, Planxty and the roots-of-Riverdance East Wind duo with Davy Spillane, Andy Irvine is now blazing a trail in revenge through e-commerce: ‘My email address might as well be the name of my record label,’ he muses. True enough, his last two releases have the catalogue numbers AK-1 (Rain on the Roof, 1996) and AK-2 (Way Out Yonder, 2000) but no label. Determinedly avoiding record labels, Andy is also pretty damning about record retailers. Is it all a philosophy of hate against capitalism itself?
‘Well, it is in a way. Donal [Lunny] is in a worse position than I am – the Bothy Band never got a farthing in royalties all the years they worked. The thing that really rankles is that when the royalty cheques for the Planxty albums come in these days, it’s not an insubstantial amount – but when you see the royalty rate which we will be receiving in perpetuity it sickens me. I don’t think we get any royalties at all from Tara, [for Planxty’s eighties reunion albums After the Break and The Woman I Loved So Well] because they say we never sold enough to recoup the advance. I like John Cook at Tara so I don’t want to put him in the same bag as the others – but I hate them all, basically! Anyway, I just decided I didn’t want anything more to do with Tower or HMV or any of these people. I’ll sell to one or two specialist shops who are into the music, like Claddagh in Dublin, but they have to pass my test – I’m getting very picky these days! This way, selling largely at gigs, I make as much money out of sales of CDs as I ever have done – I don’t sell as many in terms of numbers, but the satisfaction is huge.’
Far from seeming bitter and twisted, Andy has an admirably balanced demeanour: putting into practice a long-held socialist view that the worker is due fair reward for his toil, he simply cannot see why 90% of his potential earnings should go to somebody who else. It’s hard to argue with the principle. It’s not the case that Andy can’t get a deal – on the evidence of (a) his reputation, (b) his tireless touring, and (c) the stunning quality of his new album, Way Out Yonder, any folkishly-disposed label would be insane to turn down the option – rather, it’s the case that the mythical ‘big deal’ no longer holds any attraction for him. Given the cottage-industry surrounding, say, Kate Rusby, is this stance now the norm in folk music?
‘No. People still have the same ambition that they always had. I’m sure if somebody from Warner Brothers came up to Kate Rusby and offered her a two year deal she’d sign it – but they’d throw you out pretty quick.’ The Equation come to mind here, but Andy’s never heard of them – which probably says it all.
Still, if the chairman of EMI, particularly in the wake of recent success with all these elderly Cubans, came up and said, ‘We think you’re the next big revival Andy, here’s a million quid, and we’ll get the Corrs in on backing vocals…’?
‘Well, you’ve just said a number of things that would put me off right away! But I think I’d probably say, ‘Stick it up your ass’. Mind you, if somebody said Ry Cooder was going to be involved I’d be interested, but I’d certainly maintain my principles. I’ve got no need for a million pounds anyway – though if a big ‘boom’ in Irish music came around I’d want to be there selling my records!’
Another marketing bandwagon of late has been the Woody Guthrie songbook, taken into sizeable sales by Billy Bragg and Wilco. Andy, of course, has had no greater inspiration in his professional life than Woody. How does he feel about the Johnnies-come-lately? ‘I’m delighted for them. Mind you, it would be a bit galling if I sang ‘All You Fascists Bound to Lose’ and people thought I’d got it from Billy Bragg! I never met Woody, but I corresponded with him in hospital. I think I’m probably one of the few people around today who knew about Woody before they knew about Bob Dylan. The kind of values that Woody represented are one of my great passions. Sometimes I get a great round of applause for singing something like ‘Gladiators’ [a stirring homage to working-class rights-fighters of the 1920s on the new album] and I’d think, ‘I wonder did they actually like that, or did they just feel that it was politically correct to agree with it?’ I’m being cynical now – and of course social justice is clearly making huge strides forward because of what I’m doing!’
Regarding the current Irish scene, Andy cites Lunasa – currently featuring the incomparably witty and ebullient Kevin Crawford as frontman and flautist – and the occasional duo of Mairead Ni Mhaonaigh & Dermot Byrne (from Altan) as favourites, but singles out Martin Hayes, ‘the master of silence’, for particular praise: ’I did a radio show with Martin in San Francisco recently and we found that we liked the same music – jazz, mostly. In fact, I’d be inclined to put Martin into the same bag as Keith Jarrett. He’s on a different plane to other Irish musicians, and I mean that as a total compliment. He’s a great guy and I love the music he plays.’
It’s noticeable that virtually all the current names in Irish music are parts of duos or bands – even Martin Hayes has an inseparable collaborator in Denis Cahill. Given that Andy is perhaps unique in being a combination of Irish traddie and American-style troubadour, one wonders is this something to be self-conscious about? ‘I’m never quite sure where I sit within the Irish scene, outside of Ireland,’ he admits. ‘But I’ve been doing it so long I seem to have my own niche, and it continues. I’m never totally self-confidant that unemployment might not be round the next corner – but I suppose it’s unlikely at this point in time. I have to say that I would like to be remembered as a foundering father of a musical movement. If my kids were receiving royalties twenty years after I’m dead that would make me feel happy – and if I was receiving those royalties in the next twenty minutes I’d be even happier!’
Andy tours the UK in October as a soloist and in November as a member of part-time supergroup Patrick Street. Should you require his new record before those dates, his email address is….
Alias says
I also have a lot of respect for Ian Anderson, not only for the huge amount of work into promoting non mainstream music. He was a fine radio DJ and introduced me to lots of great music.
As far as the fRoots business model goes, it was never going to last. It was just not inclusive. It seemed to me that the music they championed was for the fRoots community and nobody else. It worked while the dreaded “world music” was attracting publicity in other music papers and newspapers in the 1980s and early 1990s. Once that supply line was cut back the chances of their readership increasing ended. Since then they have had appeals for individual donations of £500 plus. But the readership aged and shrunk and its demise was inevitable. It will be a loss none the less.
Colin H says
One of the pieces of info in the email notifying recipients about the kickstarter campaign is that Ian A will be moving on/retiring once the new business model is in place. I admire him for having stuck with the project for so long. I’ve no doubt there have been bumps in the road. I wish him all the very best in his retirement/other avenues – and I hope the magazine finds a way to be meaningful and financially stable for a while yet. If it transpires that the market has gone then so be it, but I won’t begrudge them a few quid towards finding out.
I posted this piece here before, about a year or so back. It was my last piece in FR, on the great Séamus Ennis, an adapted extract from one of my books. Again, Ian provided a platform, and I’m grateful. A bit like the jazz world and the world of writing books about music, the folk world is one where people by and large help each other and everyone benefits.
Séamus Ennis & ‘As I Roved Out’
An abridged extract from The Wheels Of The World: 300 Years Of Irish Uilleann Pipers (Jawbone Press).
Late in 1950, Alan Lomax, a driven man from America whose father, John, had begun the family dynasty in field recording, arrived in England. Being a socialist, he was effectively on the run from the House Un-American Activities people back home, but was also pursuing an ambitious project to document the traditional music of the world for a series of releases on Columbia Records: The Columbia World Library Of Folk & Primitive Music.
Alan didn’t take long to get his feet under the table, with Brian George an ally, at the BBC, presenting his first of many BBC series, Adventures In Folk Song, in February 1951 – with himself and a female sidekick, Robin Roberts, singing and presenting field recordings from the BBC Permanent Library. The previous month, with an Irish volume of the Columbia series in mind, Alan and Robin had loaded up a car with a heavy Magnecord tape recorder and travelled to Dublin, heading straight to Jamestown on Brian George’s advice.
‘We found a long, young greyhound of a fellow,’ Robin later noted, ‘with mischievous sharp eyes and a low, measured brogue, always combining drollery with seriousness.’
‘After a night of drinking and singing in the Ennis family kitchen the next day,’ wrote Lomax biographer John Szwed, ‘Alan was convinced they could collaborate. There were still songs to be heard that had not been recorded, Séamus said, and he could find the people. Before they set out, Alan tested his equipment by recording Séamus’ piping, and the tape recorder broke down on the first try.’
They ended up borrowing a mobile recording unit and a man to operate it from Radio Éireann, with whom Séamus was still employed. Over six weeks they recorded all over Ireland, using Séamus’ contacts, from Elizabeth Cronin in Cork to fiddler Mickey Doherty in Donegal. A sizeable number of items from Séamus himself were also recorded.
Released as one of the first 14 volumes in the series in December 1954, the Lomax/Columbia double LP on Ireland would also include eight performances by Séamus, including three items on pipes: ‘The Bucks Of Oranmore’, ‘Were You At The Rock?’ and ‘The Woman Of The House’. They were his first commercially available recordings.
Over the next four years, as he continued with his somewhat frustrating Radio Éireann career – often recording traditional musicians in the field but finding that the station really didn’t know what to do with it – Séamus had several more encounters with the BBC. Already, through meeting Brian George in August 1947 in Ireland, he had recorded two long sessions of songs and piping tunes for the BBC Library and had made a handful of appearances on BBC radio programmes. He was flown over to London three times in late 1950 and 1951 for further BBC broadcasts, on one occasion performing, on uilleann pipes, 45 minutes of 14th Century Italian music, seemingly sight-reading, with a consort including guitarist Julian Bream. In May 1951, the BBC came to Dublin for The Stone Of Tory, an ambitious ‘Irish Ballad Opera’, reuniting Séamus with Lomax. It would be a turning point in the former’s career and the beginning of a major repositioning for the BBC’s involvement with the traditional music of the British Isles.
The plot explored attempts by a land agent to collect rent by gunboat on Tory Island, off Donegal, and his thwarting by magic. The production combined a cast from Dublin’s Abbey Theatre with rural Irish singers. It was seemingly the first time that professional singers and actors had worked with what we might term source singers. After three weeks of intense writing and two days of rehearsal, it was recorded.
With Alan writing it and Séamus hired as both researcher and participant (singing, playing pipes, fiddle and possibly accordion, and earning 50 guineas for his trouble), the programme was the first in a series of ‘Ballad Operas’ Lomax planned, involving different cultures of the world. The exuberant American went on a collecting trip to Scotland that summer, involving the then similarly freelance leftist writer and collector Hamish Henderson. Along the way, Alan’s force of personality helped to galvanise the beginnings of the Scottish folk song revival and the beginnings of the Edinburgh Festival Fringe. It was having an effect in London too.
As John Szwed put it: ‘Once they saw the results of Lomax’s collecting, the BBC created a folk music project under the direction of Peter Kennedy and Séamus Ennis.’
Brian George, who had been trying to promote a more active BBC involvement in folk music since his Irish adventure in 1947 – returning from a two week trip with 400 acetates worth of field recordings, courtesy of Ennis’ contacts – finally got a green light in 1951.
‘Brian was now head of a big department with a hundred people working for him,’ says Reg Hall, ‘and he head-hunted Éamonn Andrews, a radio presenter, and Séamus Ennis from Radio Éireann. He got together a budget, £10,000, and hired two field recordists, Ennis and Peter Kennedy. He had the money for three collectors, but he only ever hired others casually.’
Séamus, on a rolling permanent contract from January ‘52, would be earning twice his Radio Éireann salary, with an apparently lavish expense account on top.
Writing of Séamus in 1967, in Forty Years Of Irish Broadcasting, former Radio Éireann director Maurice Gorham asserted that ‘the present-day revival of Irish traditional music really stems from him.’ But back in the early ‘50s the Irish station had more immediate concern: ‘The post that had been vacated by Séamus was still empty [over two years later],’ Gorham wrote. ‘No successor had been found who had his gift of extracting traditional music from amateurs all over the country and weaving it into radio programmes.’
The opportunity to collect from the whole of the British Isles was an incentive in itself. Based in London, Séamus would visit a particular area – from Sussex to the Hebrides – for a few weeks at a time to collect material for the archive. ‘We expected that it might last three, maybe four, maybe five years,’ he reflected. ‘In fact, it lasted seven years.’
He would also enjoy prolific opportunities to earn substantial freelance fees in a speaking, scripting or performing capacity with various BBC radio programmes during this time of his employment as a roving recorder, and to take concert bookings: ‘And if it happened on a work day and I had to travel, I just took a day’s annual leave.’
Brian George was a very flexible boss. On one occasion, Séamus dutifully turned down a television appearance because it clashed with a field trip. When George heard about it through the grapevine, he told Séamus to put the trip back a day and do the show. In 1952 he met and married Margaret Glynn, a teacher turned air hostess. Not one to miss a trick, Séamus advanced a proposal to Woman’s Hour on the BBC Light Programme in November 1952, which reads:
‘Séamus Ennis recently married an attractive air-hostess, and she is frequently asked by passengers who notice her ring: ‘What is your husband?’ This is not an easy question to answer. He is a collector of folk music and in this talk will explain exactly how one goes about making such a collection.’
Seven guineas later, the listenership of Woman’s Hour had their answer. Unsurprisingly, Séamus later viewed his BBC years as the happiest period in his life.
The most resonant series with which he was associated was As I Roved Out. Running for six series between September 1953 and September 1958, it was in effect the national shop window for the work Séamus, Peter Kennedy and others were doing as folk song collectors for the BBC. The collectors would talk about their song-hunting adventures across the British Isles and introduce recordings they had made. Occasionally, as with Donegal fiddler Frank Cassidy and Galway Gaelic singer Colm Ó Caodháin, Séamus would enjoy an opportunity to profile his favourite discoveries. At least two episodes across the six series were broadcast from rural pubs, and Séamus often enjoyed an opportunity to perform something himself.
The half-hour shows were generally broadcast on Sunday mornings, bar series five (mysteriously on Wednesday afternoons), and would become the programme most associated with Séamus’ BBC career. In 1978, Peter Kennedy – a man who became deeply controversial within the British folk world for his business dealings and his approach to intellectual property – wrote to Folk News to outline the programme’s history and his role in it:
‘I suggested As I Roved Out and, with Séamus Ennis, presented the programmes weekly on Sunday mornings…’
Whether Kennedy was declaring that he suggested the programme or just its name is unclear. He later suggested that he had introduced The Quarrymen to George Martin – a claim rendered absurd by decades of Beatle-ology. Séamus maintained that the name was his, and would reference the programme fondly in later life. Indeed, for all the 1950s broadcasting with which he was involved – a vast amount of it, on all three home networks, regional programmes, overseas services and television (using his story-telling gifts on nascent children’s TV with the likes of Clive Dunn and Tony Hart) ¬– As I Roved Out would be the only programme widely recalled in later years. Along with Ewan MacColl’s Radio Ballads (1958-64), As I Roved Out stands as the most significant airwaves influence on the ‘British folk revival’ of the coming decade.
As Séamus explained in a 1972 interview: ‘Each programme would be 30 minutes, of which about 14 minutes would be me. Peter Kennedy or some other part-time collector would do another 12 to 14 minutes. I would say, yes [this period was the height of my career]. That would be because of the programme. Every Sunday morning for most of the year – nine months of the year, anyway.’
There was some exaggeration in what Séamus was recalling. Over six years, there were a total of 54 episodes, from 13 in 1953 winding down to four in 1958, although each series was repeated once. Similarly, Séamus was not present in every episode, though he was there in most. He was surely correct, though, when he explained why he felt the programme resonated with a wide audience:
‘I tried always to paint a word picture of the district, the person singing and the house he lived in – just little unimportant details about my visit there, like ‘At that moment the dog came in,’ for instance.’
Séamus could connect brilliantly to people as a broadcaster and as a collector of music; he had a lower hit rate with the average punter in London’s Irish pubs and, eventually, with his erstwhile BBC colleagues:
‘All the Irish musicians were from farming or labouring backgrounds,’ says London-Irish chronicler Reg Hall. ‘They were country people. And Ennis was middle-class, articulate, and mixed in middle-class circles, and he showed it – he almost let it be known. I didn’t necessarily see this or feel this at the time, but I knew he was different, I knew he had a foot in another camp. I met Séamus Ennis five times, I reckon. I was introduced to him – and every time, he took me for a stranger! I think he bloody knew who I was. It was his way of putting me down – not that I was worth putting down. I was insignificant. But I think that was just his manner.’
‘He was known as ‘The Ennis’,’ says English singer Bob Davenport, a near neighbour in the ‘50s, ‘and when he used to walk into the Bedford [in Camden Town] it was like watching a cowboy film where the marshal walks in and everybody looks round. When he played, there was nobody ever comes close – it stood your hair on end, it was just absolutely devastating. He was absolutely at his height. But then things went really wrong for him.’
‘He was very dicey, because he drank, and he couldn’t control it,’ says Peggy Seeger. ‘You could never tell when he was going to be capable. But when Séamus played freely, when he played the slow tunes, he was just heart-breaking, he really was. He was a total and complete character. When he arrived at your house, you knew he was there. He invaded every room, had to be waited on hand and foot, did nothing – didn’t have to, because he played the pipes!’
An off-air recording of the final show in Series One exists, being a get-together of the show’s presenters and production team plus traditional singers Bob and Ron Copper, with Séamus performing several songs and tunes solo and in collaboration. It is, alas, the only extant recording of an episode with Séamus, although a few examples of his other BBC radio works from 1948-60 do survive at source: three plays with music, two variety shows on the theme of Finnegan’s Wake, and a documentary on Patrick Weston Joyce.
‘The programme went so well,’ Séamus reflected, of As I Roved Out, ‘that I think pressure was brought on Radio Éireann to do such a job. And their first programme of this nature was The Job Of Journeywork [presented by Ciarán Mac Mathúna], which was the name of a tune – more or less a direct copy of my title, As I Roved Out. It was an achievement to get Radio Éireann broadcasting this material. Another direct result of As I Roved Out was the forming of all these ballad groups, of which I think The Clancy Brothers were the first.’
Nevertheless, as piper and historian Pat Mitchell later noted: ‘Somewhat untypically, Séamus later modestly suggested that the [Sunday morning] proximity to the very popular Wilfred Pickles quiz programme Have A Go played a part in their popularity.’
Throughout the ‘50s, Séamus found an outlet on a wide variety of on-air platforms: dramas, discussion programmes, religious programmes, light entertainment, documentaries. Fittingly, the last series begun while he was still a BBC employee was a reunion with Alan Lomax. If As I Roved Out had been a regular update from the BBC’s folk music collecting project, A Ballad Hunter Looks At Britain, broadcast over eight episodes in November and December 1957, was a kind of summation. The project’s funding had run out, although there was a luxurious £800 budget for this programme (most of which went to Lomax). Séamus made 103 guineas for his contributions – which was just as well, as his permanent contract had expired back in March. Yet despite his tendency to vainglory, there was a deep integrity to the man. He himself had called time on the Corporation’s largesse:
‘I was probably the strongest cutter of my own throat,’ he explained. ‘But I voted that I thought we had the job finished now. What I was getting now was mostly variant[s] of something I had before. It’s a matter of conscience as well as common sense. You have to justify your existence, justify it with your own conscience.’
After a further three years as a freelance broadcasting musician, script-writer and presenter, with a small but growing side-line in public performances and commercial recordings, on the back of the building British folk revival – but mirroring a period in which his marriage failed – Séamus finally accepted he had run out of road with the BBC, and with London.
‘If you thought Florence was a place where you had to guard yourself from a knife in the back, says Bob Davenport, ‘the BBC in the 1950s made Florence look like a bunch of amateurs. It was sad. He was drinking more and more. Séamus was too innocent, in a way. He fell out of favour, and they stabbed him.’
‘I used to drop into the local at lunchtime, looking for work,’ the piper reflected. ‘One day a senior producer in the BBC said to me, ‘Do you know, Séamus, this is the British Broadcasting Corporation, not the Irish Broadcasting Corporation.’ So I said, ‘Thanks for the hint,’ and I came home.’
Radio is ephemeral, especially so in an era when few broadcasts were archived for posterity, but it was also still the prime medium in 1950s Britain. As I Roved Out was the right programme at the right time, and the beguiling genius of Séamus Ennis would be key to its success. It became a touchstone for a whole generation of British folk music performers who would come to prominence in the later ‘50s and ‘60s.
‘I remember hearing it when I was living in London,’ says Andy Irvine, ‘that was a big influence on me. In those days, a lot of people [in Ireland] listened to the BBC, because Radio Éireann was fairly young. The first time I remember seeing him was at Slattery’s in Capel Street [in the early ‘60s]. He hadn’t been living in Dublin for some time, he’d just come back from somewhere, and he got up on stage and said, ‘I’m going to play a couple of reels now, and the first one is called ‘The Master’s Return’!’
Vulpes Vulpes says
What a great read Colin, thanks for posting that! I was in the pub for a lengthy session on Friday night with a bunch of mates who are musicians, and the subject of the pipes came up. By that stage several pints had been had, and we all wept with mirth at the recollection of Derek Bell’s masterful titling of one of his best albums.
Kaisfatdad says
I do hope that they will be able to reinvent themselves, there is definitely a need for a publication/ website who champions the kind of artists that they do.
But Alias hits the nail on the head when he mentions that they were not sufficiently inclusive. I too have made several wonderful discoveries from the mag and their covermount CDs. But reading the articles I often felt they were preaching to the converted and taking rather arcane knowledge of certain genres for granted.
But just look at the stuff that was on their free CDs.
http://www.frootsmag.com/content/freecd/
The have been doing a splendid job in promoting marvellous non-mainstream music. And giving a break to young, would-be music writers like Colin!
Wayfarer says
I’ve still got all the compilations from 11 onwards (As I stated further up the thread, I thought I’d been a reader from the mid-eighties but 11 is from ’98 – I must be getting old).
fRoots has introduced me to many new artists through the compilations and I made a huge compilation taken from those discs on my phone for long car journeys. Ian Anderson has the knack of ferreting out obscure (to me) gems.
Kaisfatdad says
It has started to snow here. Aaargh!
But browsing around, I just found this archive of fRoots playlists which could keep me happily busy all day. So wonderfully eclectic and very cosmopolitan.
http://www.frootsmag.com/content/issue/charts/frplaylist/backlist/
Difficult not to get inquisitive about all the record labels that I’ve never heard of.
My favourite name was Squiggly Records which a quick google reveals is Martha Tilston’s micro-label for her own releases.
Cue for a song!
Vulpes Vulpes says
Here’s her dad, singing one of my favourites of his at a local venue:
Colin H says
I wonder what Steve makes of his deliightfully vague, aspirational title phrase ‘reaching out’ becoming a 21st Century American cliche? It seems to mean ‘contacting’ or ‘phoning up’ or ’emailing’ but dresses it up like it’s an action of benevolence or something. It was used half a dozen times in one of the NCSI: New Orleans episodes. A few Americans have used it with me in replying to emails (‘thanks for reaching out’). How and why has this happened?
Kaisfatdad says
Thanks @Vulpes Vulpes. I really enjoyed that. And interesting to discover that Martha comes from a family of songwriters.
I have a lot of time for artists like this who are just below the radar.
Alias says
The Rhythmpassport.com website has launched a free magazine which may be of interest to Songlines and FRoots readers and former readers.
http://www.rhythmpassport.com
Kaisfatdad says
Thanks Alias. Looks interesting., particularly the reviews.
I also discovered that if I was in London today I could have seen a double bill of Jaga Jazzist and Sinikka Langeland. Rats!
Colin H says
Fundraisiing? It’s a Breeze. First update posted:
What an incredible 24 hours
Posted by Jo Breeze (Collaborator)
We’re absolutely amazed by the support so far – we’ve sailed well past 50% of our funding target in just the first 24 hours, which is extraordinary; at time of writing we’re at £12,277, with over 200 backers.
In the event that we actually hit the target early (which is looking possible!) please remember, every penny makes the future of the magazine more secure. Behind the scenes, we’re working to get plans in place, and we’ll update you as soon as we’re able to.
Speaking of behind the scenes – watch this space; we’ve had many more people getting in contact offering to support us, so if you have friends or colleagues who haven’t backed us yet and you think they might like to, we’re hoping to get some brilliant new rewards for backers live soon!
And, important note for existing backers: we’re thrilled that people have started asking if they can pledge for multiple rewards. Kickstarter doesn’t make it possible to do this yourself, but we can do it manually for you. There are two steps:
Pledge for a reward, but with the amount of money to cover your two (or more) preferred rewards
Message us to tell us what you want! This is crucial – if you don’t do this, it looks like you’ve generously donated extra money, and we won’t know to keep back another limited-edition reward for you so it may get snapped up by someone else. If you’re not sure about the messaging system on Kickstarter, this should take you directly to a message box: https://www.kickstarter.com/projects/iananderson/save-froots-magazine/messages/new?message%5Bto%5D=iananderson
Thank you so, so much for all your help so far. Whether you’ve donated a reward, backed the campaign, or shared the link (or in some cases all three!), it all makes a huge difference. More news when we have it!
Colin H says
Crikey, 92% funded in two days. Hats off to the fRoots massive.
retropath2 says
Having referenced Rock’n’Reel early on this strand, their latest cover features Elkie Brooks, the last (or last but one) Lulu. This surely upends the whole model used by Boho/Unshod, relying on Beatles, stones, Bowie, Dylan etc.
How so?
Colin H says
I think the fact that all RnR/R2/Reel&Rock/etc’s written content is provided free by enthusiasts can only help – similar to Shindig! But that can only be a part of their viability. Good luck to them.
Colin H says
190 quid to go…
Colin H says
27…
IanP says
More importantly, could one of you help me with the pronounciation of fRoots?
Is it F Roots, which only needs an ‘& Son’ to create a greengrocer business, or is it Fruits?
I do hope it’s the latter.
Colin H says
It’s a rotten name, the contraction – however it’s pronounced. I think they were embarrassed by the ‘folk’ bit some time in the 80s.
Junior Wells says
I’m a bit with Bob. Disappointing (see what I did there) but be amazed if some “new business model” will surface.
If buying in that area I’d pick up a copy of Songlines.
Colin H says
A heads up – a new slew of rewards went live on the KS page 20 mins ago.
Vulpes Vulpes says
Glad you posted that Colin – I’ve just upped my pledge and come away with three CDs from Leveret!
Colin H says
I went for the Lisa Knapp one-off (well, 21-off) disc. Never heard her before – just wanted to show a bit of support and 20 seconds on YouTube suggested it should be not outwith my tastes.
Wayfarer says
I’m off to see the Coppers and Shirley Collinds in Peacehaven. I used to drink in the pub (Peacehaven Hotel) where they sang in the 70’s and I never knew. Being a teenager at the time, I’d have probably hated it.