McTell, Ralph
You Well-Meaning Brought Me Here

Producer Gus Dudgeon, Caleb Quaye on electric guitar, Roger Pope on drums, Davey Johnstone on mandolin: almost all of Elton John’s band is in this album by the English singer-songwriter Ralph McTell; many of you may know this talented and original artist for the poignant acoustic ballad "Streets Of London," from his second album, "Spiral Staircase" from 1969, which became an evergreen and was interpreted, for better or worse, by countless artists, among which Cat Stevens and Blackmore's Night stand out. Despite this success, Ralph McTell has always remained somewhat in the shadows, too often forgotten as a great folksinger, sensitive, profound, and intelligent yet almost always light, catchy, and original, reaching the peak of his career not with "Streets Of London" but with this 1971 album, with a rather anonymous cover and a title, "You Well-Meaning Brought Me Here" that certainly doesn't stick in the mind like, for example, "Highway 61 Revisited" or "Goodbye Yellow Brick Road".

The first three albums by Ralph McTell, "Eight Frames A Second," "Spiral Staircase," and "My Side Of Your Window," published between 1968 and 1969 and always produced by Gus Dudgeon with Tony Visconti as arranger, had a primarily acoustic sound. With "You Well-Meaning Brought Me Here" in 1971, comes the evolution, the proposal of something more ambitious and refined. Ralph McTell believes in it, he is at his peak of inspiration, and the final product is simply extraordinary: an almost "cosmic" sound, imaginative and evocative folk, without touching psychedelia, elegant, rarefied, cloaked in a sensation of almost surreal calm and composure.

This album is a musical journey that starts even from the very beginning, from the creation myth evoked in the initial "Genesis I Verse 20": sweet arpeggios, a low, calm, and persuasive voice, a synthesizer interlude played by Rick Wakeman adding an extra "mystical" touch, and the enchantment comes to life, continuing with "First And Last Man", where to the ecstasy of the first track is added a shadow of bewilderment, the bewilderment of man, lost and disoriented in an unknown world after being cast out of paradise, facing a new life; accompanying choirs give echoing shadows to this song, imbued with a certain arcane and subdued solemnity. Then comes love; the atmosphere becomes more earthly, and "In Some Way I Loved You" materializes, a perfect pop melody outlined by a sly violin, then it's the turn of alcohol with "Lay Your Money Down": folk, pure folk, sweet folk, this song, accompanied by a flute and joyful choirs, splendidly hypnotic, is somewhat like a portrait of a lively Irish pub painted, however, with watercolors and delicate and shaded tones.

To recap: creation, the first man, love, alcohol, then comes man’s best friend: the dog, celebrated with a poignant yet grand ballad of almost epic breath, the wonderful "Old Brown Dog", with the great Davey Johnstone on mandolin and a nice guitar solo by Caleb Quaye, finally it's war: "Pick Up A Gun", an orchestral piano ballad with a bittersweet flavor, perhaps the most "Eltonian" moment of the album. At this point, our Ralph McTell loses the thread of the concept for a while, but the album still maintains very high levels: there's an incursion into more lively and rhythmic pop-rock territories, an overall successful and pleasant one like "Claudia", a graceful minuet, "Ballad Of Dancing Doren" and two sweet and intense ballads, "You Well-Meaning Brought Me Here" and "Chalkdust": wonderful melodies, intimate and sensitive lyrics, these songs represent the natural evolution of what the early Ralph McTell had already shown not only with "Streets Of London" but also with "Michael In The Garden" and "Girl On A Bicycle".

Finally, the cycle closes, naturally, with death: uneasy and rarefied arpeggios, marked by a soft bass line, the voice is particularly clear, evocative, magnetic; a tired traveler, worn from a long journey, arrives at a great river and meets "The Ferryman", the ferry man, none other than Charon; arcane choirs and orchestrations appear in all their subtle magnificence, albeit with a dark shadow, the music is sweet, captivating, clear, disarmingly beautiful. The traveler understands everything and surrenders to that moment; everything blurs and fades at the moment of death, a death that, however, contains within itself the seed of rebirth. Marvelous.

"You Well-Meaning Brought Me Here," blatantly poorly packaged and "sold" even worse, is simply a milestone: beyond folk, a unique and unrepeatable art-pop of sophistication, an original, imaginative, enchanting concept album, shining in absolute perfection, the Canon of Polykleitos, the greatest and most important legacy of a great artist who has absolutely nothing to envy of the better remembered contemporaries Donovan and Cat Stevens whom, indeed, with this incredible album he surpasses with a leap, indelibly engraving his name in the Olympus of the greats of folk.