Fairport Convention
Unhalfbricking

THE REVIEW

Think of something truly British... done?

Yes, yes, the pudding. And the Fairport Convention. Now think of the most British cover that comes to mind... nothing? "Unhalfbricking." A play on words, a quiet picnic on the grass. An elderly couple, distinguished, smiles quietly at the gate, unaware of the revolution brewing behind them.

"Genesis Hall," and everything begins. An electrified chant, a lysergic lullaby. Sandy Denny's voice is a whisper that caresses the low tones, and as it rises, it gains body, becoming dense and thick, while swaying, it tells of despair, empathy, and hope. Bread, love, and... fruit jam. And then again and again, Bob Dylan, three more transformed pieces. Still love, innocent unconditional adoration for overseas music. And the innocent, direct, and bold gusto of making music for the simple pleasure of playing. Their version of "If You Gotta Go, Go Now" is a village festival, a tavern chorus in halting French, complete with accordion, triangle, and clapping hands. "Autopsy" gradually reveals its measured elegance as, rarefied, the melody emerges. There are bands that need 20-minute tracks, a thousand notes, a thousand tempo changes to express themselves. And bands that only need a shift in accent, a whisper, a slight inflection of voice to create fairy tale worlds. A reverb lightly cuts through the air, and Martin Lamble's refined 5/4 melts into a simple 4/4, with the snare on the third beat. In the middle, like in a hallucinatory tale, "A Sailor's Life", where almost shyly the words emerge: traditional, arr. by Fairport Convention. A psychotic trip with neither beginning nor end, eleven minutes of trance in a journey to the center of the earth, between India and smoky English pubs, infinite loops of violin and guitar accompany pagan liturgies, Vedic chants on the fields of Albion. In light of what was about to happen, "Who Knows Where The Time Goes?" sounds almost mocking:

in the evening sky

all the birds are leaving

how do they know

it's time to go?

(...)

I am not alone if my love is here with me

I know it will be this way, until it's time to leave

so winter storms will come, and then birds again in spring

I am not afraid of time

who knows where the time goes?

It was 1969. They were five English kids in love with American songwriters and the folklore of their land. And this was an album still unripe, immature. Time would bring them misfortune, maturity, and disillusionment. Soon a terrible car accident would take away Martin Lamble and Richard Thompson's girlfriend. A slap in the face that swept away the innocence from their faces, bringing these shy English boys out of limbo. "Liege & Lief" was the creation of this troubled birth, but that's another story.

"Unhalfbricking" is a quiet revolution, still young and carefree, full of compromises and slight imperfections. A cushioned oasis of incaution. A mild, peaceful revolution, naive and unripe. An ageless album, 100 years old and just born. To be listened to in 10, 20, 70 years, to be listened to when you're old to remember, for a moment, that spark in the eyes, that unconscious enthusiasm, that youth that each of us has grasped and felt full and whole, even just once.