Disc 426 is…Downstream
Year of Release: 1993
What’s up with the Cover? A close up of singer Figgy Duff singer Pamela Morgan
looking kind of like an east coast folk version of actress Leah Thompson. A google image search revealed this wistful
half-smile is Morgan’s preferred pose when cameras are at hand. This cover suits me well – nothing fancy, but
well executed, with a title I can read. As
I noted in the teaser, everything doesn’t have to be complicated.
How I Came To Know It: I bought this album
because I went to buy their album with the song “Woman of Labrador” on it
(“Weather Out the Storm” reviewed way back at Disc 67). That album wasn’t in, but this one was so I
settled for it and hoped for the best while I waited them to restock the album
I really wanted.
How It Stacks Up: I only have two Figgy Duff albums. This one is by far the inferior record of the
two.
Rating: 2 stars
On my way to and from the gym
today I listened to Billy Bragg, a little too loud, and with the top down. I guess I felt I had earned a break after two
full days to and from work with Figgy Duff’s “Downstream.”
In case you're slow on the
uptake, this is a sign that I’m not going to have a lot of good things to say
about this album, but I’m going to do my best to mute my scorn because despite
this record’s many faults, Figgy Duff are earnest in their efforts, and because
over their full career they did a lot of good for Newfoundland folk music, for
which I’m very thankful.
With this in mind, let’s start
with the best track on the record, “Twilight.” This song is a stark piece of beauty. From the lonely playing of the lone piano
that starts it off to the frail sound of Pamela Morgan’s voice piercing the
quickly closing darkness of the song’s theme it delivers an emotional wallop. This is a song about intolerance that ends in
both death and societal disintegration. Morgan’s
vocal chops make it strangely beautiful just ensures you pay close attention
despite the rough ride. It is a song
about isolation, and those who get isolated without just cause, and at times it
can be a hard listen – hey, it’s called “Twilight”
not “Dawn,” people.
“Twilight” is a fine work of art that has something important to say
about human nature, love and at only 3:24 in running time it ends well before
you get tired of it. So, you know, not the
movies.
And now, I must turn to some less
kind observations.
First, I found the album’s production
painfully fuzzy. I think an effort was
made to give the whole album a dreamy quality, with lots of ambient sound. Instead it comes off indistinct and
uninspired. The musical arrangements are
vaguely Celtic, but a lot of the traditional instruments like fiddle show up so
far back in the mix you have to strain to hear them at all.
It felt like I was stuck at some boring
summer garden party being forced to sip virgin mint juleps and endure easy
listening AM radio while the neighbours next door have a kegger in full swing, with
everyone dancing. You strain to hear
more of what’s going on over the fence but the damn stereo at your own event –
while painfully low – is still too damned loud to let you hear the good stuff
right nearby.
Morgan’s voice is as pretty as
ever, but the production decisions make it sound very thin in places, and the
melodies in the song compositions – with a few exceptions – don’t do her the
justice she deserves. Most of the songs
are a maddening mismatch of song construction and singer.
Also, for the most part the
writing is overly saccharine. The
anti-war song “Freedom” compared very
poorly to classics like Dylan’s “With God
on Our Side” or even more modern folk tracks like Capercaillie’s “Black Fields.” It may seem cruel to compare a relatively
small Canadian act like Figgy Duff to folk greats like Dylan or Capercaillie,
but the reality is that is the competition that happens every day for space on
my CD carousel or MP3 player – and those artists consistently win for good
reason.
As I pointed out earlier, Figgy Duff
are earnest on this record, and I give them full marks for this. They clearly work hard to compose songs that
are not derivative, which is more than you can say for a lot of acts these days. That said, topics like bullying (“Allanadh”) or autism (“Song for Paul”) are a delicate balance,
and can sound either trite or insincere if they’re mishandled. I think “Downstream” successfully delivers on
sincerity in both cases, but can’t seem to avoid the trite. Important topics, yes, but they come off
feeling like that old Nestle Quik commercial where the Mom comforts the boy
with hot chocolate after a tough day at the playground.
There are many lyrical missteps,
but here are a couple of lines from “Crown
of Thorns” that is particularly painful:
“Well I perceive that you don’t like me much
You don’t want me around
If there’s a thorn in your side
It’s from my crown – crown of thorns.
“Well I perceive that you’re uncomfortable
My presence kind of makes you squirm
It’s cuz I’m not afraid to tell it like it is
And open up a can – can of worms.”
So hard to quickly paint all the
ways these lyrics need help. The tired expressions (‘can of worms’, ‘crown of
thorns’), the sentence structure (no poem should have ‘kind of’ in it just to
serve the meter of the line) or the use of an overwrought word like ‘perceive’
when the writer really means ‘see.’ It
is too bad, because musically “Crown of
Thorns” is one of the better songs on the record, but the lyrics make it
really hard to listen to.
When I reviewed “Weather out the
Storm” I pointed out that when they stick to traditional Celtic arrangements,
Figgy Duff are excellent, but when they try a more modern world music/new age
sound they fall flat. That is true for “Downstream”
as well, except that they’ve taken two more steps in the wrong direction on
this record. It makes me want to hear
their earlier albums, which I expect would be much more to my liking.
Best tracks: Twilight
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