CD Odyssey Disc 981: Scruj MacDuhk

It’s now Monday evening, but I’m still basking in the glow of a lovely weekend filled with friends, fun and music. The highlight was seeing Elton John live on Saturday night.

My previous experience with the sound system at the Memorial Arena made me nervous, but as it turned out my fears were wholly unfounded. The sound was amazing and so was Elton John. Two weeks before his 70^th birthday he still sang and played beautifully. He gave us two and a half hours of solid entertainment and seemed genuinely happy to be there. I know I was.

Speaking of live music, this next review is of an album that was recorded live albeit in Winnipeg, not Victoria.

Disc 981 is…Live at the West End Cultural Centre

Artist: Scruj Macduhk

Year of Release: 1997

What’s up with the Cover? A painting by artist Megan Mansbridge of what appears to be a four headed duck (a ‘duhk’ perhaps?). It would be an understatement to say I don’t like this painting. I’m not saying it had me longing for Tony Fitzpatrick’s Terraplane (see previous review) but it was close.

How I Came To Know It: This was me digging back into the origins of Wailin’ Jenny Ruth Moody. Moody’s first band was Scruj Macduhk so I decided to give them a shot, figuring anything featuring Moody’s heavenly voice can’t be all bad.

How It Stacks Up:  I’m still on the lookout for Scruj Macduhk’s other live album, “Live at Canso” but for now I’ve only got the West End Cultural Centre show, so it can’t stack up (yet).

Ratings: 3 stars but almost 4

Live albums are often either a mess or an amalgamation of multiple shows pulling the best performance from each to ensure it is not a mess. Not so, “Live at the West End Cultural Centre.” It is a single show with the energy of a concert but the precision and execution of a studio record. In short, it is the best of both worlds.

Scruj MacDuhk is a Canadian folk band that everyone who loves obscure folk music either knows or pretends to know. They are a bit of a big deal in the “not a big deal” world of obscure folk music. Listening to them play live – even if it is just on CD – it is easy to see why they have such a good reputation.

Scruj MacDuhk play traditional Irish/Eastern Canadian folk music and they play it brilliantly. It is a style that requires the players to be both precise and relaxed at the same time, letting the jigs and reels roll out with energy and enthusiasm. Not only does the band need to stay tight and disciplined, it’s got to make everyone think it’s easy. Despite having six regular members, Scruj Macduhk sound effortless.

It helps to have the incredible vocals of Ruth Moody. Just 21 years old on this record, she shows a talent for phrasing and an innate sense of when to inject power and when to let the natural sweetness of her tone do the talking.  There are four songs that feature Moody’s vocals and they are hands down my favourites on the record.

For the most part the songs are traditional, although there are two originals written by guitarist Joel Fafard. These tracks (one with words, one instrumental) are solid, but didn’t blow me away. I think it was just because Moody doesn’t sing them, though. More Moody!

Moody sings on most of the traditional tracks, filling them with love and making your heart soar. “Roddy MacCorley” is rebellious and celebratory tale of an Irish rebel going proudly to his own hanging, and “Oh No, Not I” is the tale of a woman spurned by a lover who they themselves had once turned their back on. I have versions of both by other artists (Shane MacGowan and the Irish Descendants respectively) and Moody puts them both to shame. “Rocks of Bawn” was new to me. It’s a song about a patch of ground that’s tough to plow. Hard to believe that would be a compelling topic, but Moody makes it work.

The best track on the record is “Banks of Red Roses” which has a melody that reminded me of “Bonnie Banks of Loch Lomond.” It appears to be a song about some young musician enjoying an outing with his girlfriend when things go a bit sideways. She asks him if he’d ever leave her and his response is to take her to a secluded area and stab her to death with a penknife. Hmmm. I suppose “a bit sideways’ was a bit of an understatement.

Also, lest you think it was just him panicking in the spur of the moment, the secluded area he chooses is a cave where earlier he’s dug a grave. That kind of premeditation will get you MacCorleyed in 32 U.S. states. It’s a rather serious overreaction, but that’s folk music for you. In modern love songs gone wrong, after a reasonable amount of heartache the two lovers just agree to see other people. In traditional folk music someone either dies of grief or murders their partner. It’s tragic and unnecessary, but it makes for a good song.

Even if I weren’t a sucker for a murder ballad, this is a solid record. The only serious criticism I have is that at nine songs and 37 minutes of music, I wish they would’ve played longer.

Best tracks: Roddy MacCorley, Oh Not Not I, Rocks of Bawn, Allan MacPherson of Dumbarton/Pretty Little Indian, Banks of Red Roses