Parcel of Rogues

Steeleye Span

album cover

Another Answer to the Vexing Question: "How Much to Rock?"

Every British folk act of the '60s and '70s eventually came to the crossroads where "folk" and "rock" converge. When Fairport Convention arrived there in 1969 (see Liege and Lief, p. 268), the group led by guitarist Richard Thompson brokered an innovative truce between styles that many traditionalists believed (Bob Dylan notwithstanding) should remain separate. Even some members of Fairport had reservations—the bassist Ashley Hutchings left the band to join the nascent Steeleye Span, because its music at the time was defiantly "folk." That only lasted a few years, and after several more personnel changes, Steeleye Span wound up at the same crossroads. It added electric guitars and a drummer, and made this magical album.

Like Liege, the lively Parcel of Rogues is an imaginative integration, not a radical upheaval. There are almost tribal rhythms that carry the otherworldly voice of Maddy Prior, whose airy soprano harks back centuries. Prior is strangely affecting even when singing such esoteric pieces as "Alison Gross," the gorgeously harmonized tale of an ugly witch. There are traditional songs so thoroughly rejiggered as to be unrecognizable: "Cam Ye o'er Frae France" uses rockish textures to conjure suffocating doom. Also here are several perky instrumentals that rely on both traditional dancing-fiddle passages and wah-wah guitar. Imagine a wandering troubadour whose stock-in-trade is sad songs stumbling into a hippie pagan ritual in the idyllic British countryside—that's the spirit behind Parcel of Rogues. The old-timer wants to jam, and the kids aren't so far gone that they've forgotten the old songs. A good time is had by all.

Genre: Folk
Released: 1973, Chrysalis (Reissued 1989, Shanachie
Key Tracks: "Alison Gross," "Cam Ye o'er Frae France"
Catalog Choice: Below the Salt
Next Stop: Pentangle: Cruel Sister
Book Page: 738

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