Sandy Denny’s Solo Journey (1971-77)

Today, Proper Records, in collaboration with UMC, are reissuing four Sandy Denny albums, originally released between 1971 and 1977. We take a look back at the history.

by Alex Gallacher

Today, Proper Records, in collaboration with UMC, are reissuing four Sandy Denny albums, originally released between 1971 and 1977 – The North Star Grassman And The RavensSandyLike An Old-Fashioned Waltz and Rendezvous. We take a look back in time…beginning in 1969.

The Journey to going solo 1969-71

As many of our readers will be aware, Sandy Denny left Fairport Convention in late 1969 and formed Fotheringay with her husband, Trevor Lucas. Earlier that year, Sandy, then a member of Fairport, recorded Unhalfbrickling, and it was shortly after this, that the band went through a watershed moment.

On 11 May, after playing a gig at Mothers in Birmingham. Sandy travelled home to London with Trevor, and the remainder of the band headed back in their van. Sandy’s biography, ‘I’ve Always Kept a Unicorn‘ by Mick Houghton, recounts how Fairport’s van hit the side barrier of the M1 motorway, causing it to tumble down an embankment. All were thrown from the van except for Simon Nicol, who was concussed. Band member Martin Lamble and Jeanie Franklyn, Richard Thompson’s girlfriend at the time, were killed.

The incident hung over all the band members. In Richard’s words, it was a volatile time and could easily have been the end of Fairport. Musically, the band went through a significant shift and decided to create a traditional British folk album – Liege & Lief – on which there was to be only one singer for the first time – Sandy Denny. Even before the album was recorded, Joe Boyd recognised it would be big, especially after the band’s reception at the Royal Festival Hall. Through a series of interviews in his book, Houghton highlights how Sandy became increasingly dependent on Lucas after the accident, and the band were aware that it was this relationship that would eventually shape her career. She was also concerned about how her own songs would fit into a band focused on traditional folk. It wasn’t only Denny looking at alternative futures, as before the album was released, both  Ashley Hutchings and Denny quit the band. Sandy went on to form Fotheringay with Lucas and Hutchings pursued his love of traditional music in a new band – Steeleye Span.

Here is Sandy talking to John Peel in December 1969 about what she was planning for 1970…

However, things didn’t remain static for long, as after one UK Top 20 LP in the summer of 1970, Fotheringay split while recording a follow-up, leaving Denny free to make her first solo album. Along the way, the press, including Melody Maker, compared Fotheringay to Fairport, which Denny found exasperating. The album was produced by Joe Boyd, who, in hindsight, felt he should have handed over production to someone else (there is said to have been a conflict between Boyd and Lucas, whose approach to making an album was also very different). Then there was the extravagant spending that included the purchase of a Bentley and the notorious PA system they called Stonehenge, which required a seven-and-a-half-tonne truck to shift it. A disastrous concert followed at the Royal Albert Hall when they asked Elton John to support them…Elton stole the show. This and several other factors led Boyd and Island to persuade Denny to go solo…although they begin to record a second album on which Sandy seemed to be favouring more traditional material, and she only sang half of those songs. The album got shelved (to be later revived and released in 2008 on Fledg’ling Records), and on 9 January 1971, Sandy Denny announced through Melody Maker that she was dissolving the band. While it was all messy, many, including Richard Thompson, felt that Sandy was always destined to be a solo artist.

The North Star Grassman And The Ravens (1971)

This is always going to be open to debate, but The North Star Grass Man and the Ravens is, according to the press release, one of the essential British folk-rock albums. That’s not how everyone saw it, especially Joe Boyd. In an interview for Houghton’s biography on Denny, Boyd says, “Fotheringay became the template for her albums in the seventies, where you would have four of five great songs and others were filler material. That’s certainly the problem with The North Star Grassman and the Ravens…”

The album was co-produced with Richard Thompson, Sandy Denny and John Wood. There was some stiff competition around this time from the likes of Steeleye Span, Fairport and John and Beverley Martyn’s Stormbringer!

Whatever your thoughts, Harry Robinson’s string arrangements on that album are memorable, as is Barry Dransfield’s fiddle solo on John the Gunn. Needless to say, the voice of Sandy Denny is always great to hear; that’s the one thing you could never take away from her, something the record-buying public strongly agreed with at the time. The year before, Melody Maker readers voted Sandy ‘Best British Female Singer’ (for the first of two years running), with the ‘Best British Male Singer’ going to Robert Plant.

According to the latest press, this was Denny’s lone UK Top 50 album success.

Sandy (1972)

If you look at Spotify streams today, you’ll find that a number of tracks on Sandy’s self-titled 1972 album have endured the most with the public today. It’s worth weighing all that up when looking at Sandy’s music historically, as views change, and favourites are often made with the context of other music at the time. A good example is her cover of Richard Fariñas ‘Quiet Joys of Brotherhood‘, seen by many as an album highlight of the time; although It’ll Take A Long Time is the most popular in streams today, which even beats Who Knows Where the Time Goes.

According to Richard Thompson, who, along with Pat Donaldson and Timi Donald, backed Sandy for a two-week residency at the Bitter End in New York, followed by the Troubadour in LA, this was a happy time in her life. It was the calmest and most secure he’d seen her, even more so than her time with Fairport.

Island Records had high hopes of a big commercial success for this release and employed David Bailey, the most famous photographer at that time, to take her photo for the cover. It was recorded again at John Wood’s Sound Techniques studio and produced this time by Trevor Lucas. The album had a better reception than The North Star Grassman And The Ravens, and ‘Listen Listen‘ was selected by BBC Radio 1’s Tony Blackburn as his single of the week for his breakfast show. Sandy was terrified of having to perform on Top of the Pops, so it was probably a relief that the song didn’t chart.

Some special guests appear in the mix, including ‘Sneaky’ Pete Kleinow from The Flying Burrito Brothers on It’ll Take A Long Time with his unmistakable pedal steel playing, and New Orleans legend Allan Toussaint adds a brass arrangement to For Nobody To Hear. The press states highlight The Lady and Listen, Listen as two career bests. Despite this and Island’s hopes, it struggled to sell.

Like An Old Fashioned Waltz (1974)

Although recorded throughout the previous year, Like An Old Fashioned Waltz was released in early 1974, soon after Denny had re-joined Fairport Convention and released Rising for the Moon. Anyhow, Like An Old Fashioned Waltz is described by the press as an unashamedly romantic, sentimental album. Not surprisingly, it’s not everyone’s cuppa, but then what is? The two swing-era songs – the Inkspots’ Whispering Grass and Fats Wallers Until The Real Thing Comes Along probably didn’t excite the folkies. That said, the press refers to it as a rollicking track with veteran jazz man Diz Disley on guitar, Danny Thompson on bass and Tony Coe on sax – this was the only time Danny played on a track by Sandy. They also highlight her much-loved tracks Solo and No End. I’d find it hard to deny that this album does have a warm autumnal nostalgia. Sandy said of the title track, “It was supposed to evoke an idea about Fred Astaire and Ginger Rogers dancing round a completely deserted ballroom with a spotlight on them… .” While it was a significant shift from her previous two albums, Sandy was said to be elated by this album, and while those traces of British folk are absent, it does really highlight the versatility of her vocals.

Here she is talking about the album with John Peel on her birthday.

Rendezvous (1977)

Her final album, Rendezvous was released in 1977 – a year later, many would hear of the death of Sandy via the John Peel show.

I’m guessing this isn’t her most revisited album; her voice was changing (huskier and less rootsy, as Houghton puts it), put down to prolonged smoking and drinking taking its toll, but if you’ve not heard it before, then you should definitely have a listen. It’s interesting to read the impression of those there during the recording sessions, especially Jerry Donahue and John Wood and how Trevor Lucas (who produced the album) is criticised for extensive mixing and overdubs on these recordings – “as if he was subconsciously trying to bury the sentiments of the songs.”

It starts with power chords on I Wish I Was a Fool For You – it’s an album with a big sound, something Sandy has no trouble in meeting the demands of. The label was, once more, aiming for commercial success (as the cover suggests), and the recording involved a number of live orchestral sessions at which, according to Jerry Donahue, she was spellbinding. He wasn’t the only one to feel this way; at a later orchestral session that included the recording of ‘I’m a Dreamer’ (a personal favourite), John Wood declared, “It sounds great – I love it”.

That this was aiming for commercial success is maybe most underlined by the track ‘Gold Dust‘. The press for these reissues suggests that it really underlines how Denny could be viewed as the British Joni Mitchell, and its late-night jazz funk backing (with Steve Winwood on clavinet) offers a beguiling glimpse of where Denny may have travelled next.

Sadly we will never know, but it’s great to be able to revisit this period of Denny’s career on vinyl.

All four titles are presented with scrupulous attention to the detail of the original UK first pressings and are available in audiophile 180gm vinyl.

You can order them here.

Source: Sandy Denny’s Solo Journey (1971-77)

Fairport Convention: The tragedies behind the pioneers of folk rock

By any measure, it was a period of prodigious creativity. Between June 1968 and December 1969, Fairport Convention released their first four albums — and changed the course of music both in Britain and further afield.

By John Meagher

By any measure, it was a period of prodigious creativity. Between June 1968 and December 1969, Fairport Convention released their first four albums — and changed the course of music both in Britain and further afield.

The third, Unhalfbricking, was their first to chart, and helped make them one of the UK’s most critically acclaimed bands. The next, Liege & Lief, which came out in the last month of the 1960s, is widely regarded as one of the most influential folk-rock albums ever, a record that fuelled the creative juices of a young Christy Moore and continues to resonate with such contemporary luminaries as Lankum.

Fairport Convention have had more members than Everton and Watford’s recent managerial roll-call combined and they play a Dublin show this evening in the auspicious surrounds of St Patrick’s Cathedral. Co-founder Simon Nicol and longest-serving member Dave Pegg will be among the quintet to play in Jonathan Swift’s old stomping ground.

But, impressive as the band’s longevity has been, it’s the line-up centred on the rare talents of Richard Thompson and Sandy Denny more than half-a-century ago that ensures Fairport’s lofty place in the popular culture canon.

The story of early Fairport Convention is one of youthful ambition, magnificent musical virtuosity and seemingly boundless creativity. It’s also one underscored by a tragedy that threatened to destroy the band. Remarkably, they came back even stronger, even if Thompson and Denny were soon to take other creative paths.

The band’s origins date to 1966. Thompson was just 17 when he and Nicol, along with Ashley Hutchings, formed a band and started to knock out Bob Dylan and Byrds covers. They got their name from ‘Fairport’, the large mock Tudor house in London that was owned by Nicol’s family: the early incarnation was peopled by middle-class grammar-school educated kids.

The group hit the ground running. Soon they were supporting Pink Floyd, who were also going places fast thanks to their mercurial leader Syd Barrett. At one of those Floyd gigs, in July 1967, Fairport Convention opened, while the headliners had to contend with the fact that Barrett had just overdosed on LSD. David Gilmour had to deputise.

It was at that show that Fairport met the American producer Joe Boyd, who would produce their self-titled debut and the four albums that followed it, including the illustrious pair mentioned above. Boyd’s part in the great British folk revival should never be underestimated.

While they showed considerable promise on their debut album, there were few signs about what was to come. Having taken their sonic cues from the other side of the Atlantic, they were dubbed “the British Jefferson Airplane”.

Things started to pick up when Sandy Denny joined the band in 1968, replacing Judy Dyble, who later claimed she had been “unceremoniously dumped”. A couple of years older than Thompson, Denny had already cut her teeth as vocalist with English folkies the Strawbs. Continue reading

The Artistry of Danny Thompson: Part 1, The 1960s

Chronicling the magnificent career of bassist Danny Thompson, this article focuses on his work in the 1960s, including Pentangle, Nick Drake, The Incredible String Band and others.

I have been toying with the idea of writing an article about Danny Thompson for a while. His playing is a common thread across so many albums I cherish, that dedicating an artist profile article to him seemed inevitable. But where to begin, what to cover? There are over 400 album credits with his name on it, spanning almost six(!) decades. The task seemed monumental, given my inability to avoid digging deep into my chosen subjects. I finally decided to take the plunge and go for it. So here is the first article in a series (what else?) that will cover a few decades of his unique career. This one here is dedicated to his work in the 1960s.

Danny Thompson was born in 1939, taking his name after ‘Danny Boy’, the song his miner father loved to sing. He tried his hand with various instruments including trumpet, mandolin and guitar, but the first serious instrument was the trombone, an instrument of which he said: “It is the only one I had much success with, probably because it’s an instrument of judgement, just like the bass.” He gave up on the trombone due to his love of boxing: “I lost my first fight and swore I would never lose another one. And I didn’t, in 22 fights. That was one of the reasons I gave up the trombone, because a smack in the chops is not very good for that.” His desire to play with his mates in a skiffle band led him to the bass as a DIY project: “I made my own tea-chest bass and at 14 I would get on the London buses with it to go to gigs and play.” The entrepreneurial lad had the foresight to build hinges into his bass, making it collapsible and easily transportable on a bus.

At the age of 15 Thompson bought Victoria. Don’t leave in disgust, no basic human rights are violated in this story. Victoria is a French bass circa 1860 built by Gand, a famous string instrument builder. This was the beginning of a beautiful love affair with a musical instrument. Thompson tells the story: “I bought her for a fiver from an old man who I promised to repay at five shillings a week. I collected her and the same night did a gig in a Wandsworth pub for fifteen shillings [three weeks’ money!]. On the way to the pub it was drizzling and she got quite wet and when I started to wipe the rain from her, all the beautiful varnish came through making the trumpeter remark: ‘blimey it’s probably a Strad or somethin’!” Victoria is not a Strad, but its worth was many folds what Thompson paid for it: “The next day he took me to Foote’s bass shop in Brewer St, Soho and they offered me £130. I took her back to the man and said ‘this is worth £130, not a fiver’. But he said ‘look son, if you want to play it, just give me the £5’. I think back to that a lot and think that it was meant to be, especially as it turned out that this was an extraordinary instrument that I now cherish. She’s been on countless recordings from the 1960s until now – and she is beautiful.” Danny Thompson remarked that for him to play on a different bass “it’s as though I’m being unfaithful. It feels like I was sleeping with some other woman while my wife is in hospital delivering my baby!” Continue reading