Preternaturally good tranche of the Linda Thompson songbook. Even, largely, nominally without her. But she’s definitely there!

Release Date: 21st June 2024

Label: Storysound Records

Format: CD / vinyl / digital

I know, I know, Various Artists; it’s Linda Thompson! But, really, it isn’t, her role merely (merely!) to write, or co-write all the songs, to co-create two of the performers and be also in part responsible for a third’s arrival being later possible. I dare say she had a fair old part in choosing who did what, where and why, too, mind. Oh, and that’s her, on the cover, and singing backing vocals on one of the tracks. Yes, we’re in the confusing and confounding land of Thompson, where the name alone is a carte blanche to greatness, albeit always richly deserved and earned. (Plus, as I look about record stores, I note those Bach’s and Mozart’s have a lot of new product, and their involvement, these days, is a good deal less than the divine Miss T.)

The back story is well-trodden, ex-wife and singing partner of folk-rock icon suffers from dysphonia, unable to sing much, or at all, with only a diminutive, if extremely well-formed, trickle of output since the onset of said condition. This time around, rather than risking radio silence, she and her son rustle up a crew of friends and accessories to do her voice work for her. And what a set of friends and accessories to have to hand, some givens, always expected to the party, with others less predictable, one by quite a stretch.

Do we have to mention the cover? Absolutely, we do, it a pitch perfect facsimile of the first album by, get it, Roxy Music, with Thompson gamely and assertively taking on the Kari-Ann Muller role. And looking good, might I say, Ma’am! Now let’s look at the back cover, and get a gander at who all is in there. Yup, children, Teddy and Kami, the latter both with and without husband, James Walbourne, they are both present. Grandson, Zak (Hobbs) and ex-husband (Richard)? Tick, both in supportive roles. (They each play a bit, on guitar, you know.) There’s a brace of Wainwrights and a Carthy, their respective parents all cohorts of the projects’s matriarch, plus a few less expected, such as the brothers Reid from Auchtermuchty, aka The Proclaimers, and Northumbria’s finest, The Unthanks. Perhaps the biggest surprise is John Grant, the boomy voiced singer of sweeping synth driven anthems, now based in Iceland. And we will see how!

It is Kami Thompson who is given the garland of opening the project, with the delightful The Solitary Traveller, a piano driven ditty that captures flavours of both Sinead O’Connor and Aimee Mann in its construction. The lyric is around how the abandoned woman, losing tongue, son and partner, comes to relish her solitude. If that all sounds a bit ouch, I am sure it is gently self-mocking, the words all carefully chosen, with an ironic knowing twinkle: “I had a voice clear and true; I chided and scolded and lied about you. Never held my wicked tongue, and now that voice is gone. I had a son looked like you; he did my bidding and paid me my due. Slaved away morning and night, but he ran away and he’s gone… I once had a man love me well, I drew him to me and cast my spell. I was disdainful, he’s sick and so painful, and now that man is gone.” James Walbourne is the co-writer for this, playing guitar, piano, bass and the organ, in full waltz mode, with the “slaved away son,” Teddy, adding vocal harmonies to his sister. (No hard feelings, then!)

Martha Wainwright then steps up for the glorious melancholy of All These Things, ornate piano underpinning her familiar vocal. Written with Charlie Dore, it is a sure and steady number to follow the fun of the first. Bonnie Lass sounds almost traditional fare, and this is how the Proclaimers tackle it, with a reverence as if it were. With Teddy T finishing off a song his mother had largely completed, a duo of senior Scottish players are on hand to add some authentic lustre, Aly Bain on fiddle, with Phil Cunningham’s arrangement of his fiddle parts. The boy, Zak, is also present, on acoustic guitar. I have to say the Proclaimers’ inclusion here , was one I found earlier troublesome, pleased to discover that, when required, they can deliver something of this gravitas.

As the vaudeville piano strikes up for Darling, This Will Never Do, you just know, along with that title, who it is going to be. Sure enough, it is Martha’s bro’, Rufus, his richly camp tones perfect for this piece of languid ennui. With glorious clarinet, from Doug Wieselman, and Jacob Mann at the piano, it is gorgeously kitsch, and just the sort of song that Wainwright can excel at. This is followed by an absolute belter, I Used To Be So Pretty, with another lyric, barbed with just as much self-deprecation as a certain guitarist still applies, much as he did back then, in his days as a duo with Linda Thompson. “Pretty is as pretty does, and when you have it, it’s enough. When it’s gone, you need fortitude, not pity; oh I wish I was, I wish I was still pretty.” An elegant acoustic guitar betrays the presence of that same certain guitarist, just happening to be around, the vocal coming from Ren Harvieu, someone seemingly otherwise off-radar these days. Harmonium adds a soothing balm, and a pair of electrics simmer tastefully in the background, again that man, now joined by grandson, Zak.

A synthesiser babbles discreetly with the opening bars of the next song, cueing Lady Bracknell-esque shouts of “a synthesiser?” Yes, it is the modern world, and in the modern world there is nothing remotely unusual in having John Grant to sing and play a song entitled John Grant and about John Grant. For Linda is a fan of the bearlike singer and his baritone: “John Grant took my heart away to Reykjavik; I hope he takes care of it.” It is a lovely song and Grant has all the meta charm to carry it off, having even had a hand in the writing of it! Teddy adds the guitar and drum machine, although there are real drums as well, courtesy Zach Hill, with bass from Jeff Hill. Grant plays all the keyboards. Placed in the very centre of the album, I can see why, it probably the finest song here.

The Rails are the Walbournes, Kami and James, their band, at least when he isn’t off posing with The Pretenders. Here they are in a mellow acoustic mode, singing in harmony, just acoustic guitar and pump organ, the latter from Rob Burger. And, if the harmonies sound broad and rich, they are, as it is on this song that Linda adds her voice, as does Teddy. It is a delicate and delightful moment for reflection. That reflection is broken by the sound of a casual banjo strum, for Shores Of America, and, if the voice is unfamiliar, hopefully this will help it become more familiar. Teddy’s “other” job to being a performer in his own right, is as a much in demand producer, with Dori Freeman being one of the artists he has worked with. A lilting country melody, it is further enhanced by some mellifluous fiddle from David Mansfield. It’s a beaut.

Back to Blighty now, for another dynastic trouper, namely Eliza Carthy, who’s fiddle introduces That’s The Way The Polka Goes, a sort of cookie crumbling metaphor. Sort of, with many a possibly dodgy reference: “If he can’t get the girl with the bonny brown eye, he bites his nails, he tells lies.” Starting slow, it romps into a morphic frenzy, and can only add to the realisation she gets better by the decade, her vocal here quite the thing. Unorthodox percussion, namely step and body, adds to the overall likeable nonsense. And convincing. From the ridiculous to the sublime, Three Shaky Ships has the unctuous vocal of the Unthank sisters, Becky and Rachel, together with fellow band member, Adrian McNally, on keys, and journeyman American musician, Chris Price, on bass. It is glorious, with a doomy foreboding that reveals the influence of co-writer, Richard Thompson.

The closer, Those Damn Roches, helmed by Teddy, is a bit of further fun, saying all the things any listener in the know will have been thinking, as they imagine all these folk-rock dynasties playing merrily in the sandpit. The intermingled McGarrigle/Wainright/Roche families all get a mention, as do Waterson and Carthy, the Coppers and, of course, best to last, the Thompsons. Fittingly, it is the youngest representative of the clan, the young Mr, Hobbs, who picks up the instrumental credits: mandolin and guitars, acoustic and electric, with a heavenly chorus, drawn from the whole ensemble, to nail home the whole point about family bands: “Can’t get along ‘cept when we’re apart; is it life, or is it art? One and the same.”

I’ll say. What a wonderful record.

Here’s a taster, Kami’s opening track, The Solitary Traveller:

Linda Thompson online: Website / X (formerly known as Twitter)

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