Jack Hayter – Abbey Wood

Intimate, poetical hinterland folk.

Gare du Nord Records seem to be developing a niche for albums that speak quietly and intimately about real places, people and history. And about change. The label released the debut LP by The Cold Spells earlier this year, (a fabulous record by my reckoning), and are set to release another top-notch album of South East English folk, this time by Jack Hayter (Ex-Hefner, Dollboy).

Half sung, half spoken and backed by small acoustic ensembles, it's his first solo album in 15 years so perhaps no surprise I'd not stumbled across his music before. That said he's been active musically as a member of Papernut Cambridge, as well as performing and recording with former Hefner frontman Darren Hayman. Like flowers blossoming in a forgotten railway siding this twelve song collection highlights the hinterlands and examines small moments and marginalised lives (both geographically and socially). Yet all the time bursts with heartening empathy.

Abbey Wood is an area of South East London currently experiencing the mixed blessing of improved transport links and ensuing gentrification. A Crossrail link will will soon mean it's only 11 minutes away from Canary Wharf. But it's not this shiny, steel and glass version which Hayter eulogises. His poetical songs speak of an older, semi-forgotten Abbey Wood. Having spent time living in an abandoned children's home in the area he's witnessed changes that sweep aside history and its impeding emotional associations. Hayter's eye for detail and sharp turn of phrase helps make the album a lyrically rich portrait of a specific place, sepia tinted yet poetically alive. Take 'Fanny On The Hill' for example, an ode to selling knock-off meat in a now-closed Bexley pub. With each listen a different sentence catches the ear. Like the best literature, it's a slow reveal but worth the investment.

Aside from the songs centred on Abbey Wood there are wider historical and war-torn stories illuminated from personal perspectives, such as 'Bendigo' and 'Arandora Star' where the stories of both Australian WWI conscripts and the sunk British warship are rescued from cold factual history and retold with a more human and ultimately more resonant perspective. The album closes with a second version of 'Arandora Star' read in Italian by Hayter's friend Sylvia De.

Rooted as most of the songs and stories are in one postcode, there's a wider emotional resonance at play here. With our cities changing at a seemingly ever faster and sometimes alarming pace, simple remembrance is more precious and important than ever before. We should be thankful that an artist as skillful as Jack Hayter can help us in this much needed act.

Click here for more on Jack Hayter.

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Papernut Cambridge - There's No Underground

Refracted glam meets bubblegum and Brit-pop for a sadness-tinged postcard from the end of the line.

Papernut Cambridge may well be the best ever composite band name for anyone wanting to evoke an aura of Englishness, nostalgia, soft psychedelia and a hint of autumnal melancholia. The right name choice then for a band whose music contains all these things and more.

Papernut Cambridge is the brainchild of one Ian Button, former member of Death In Vegas turned music producer and drummer for Wreckless Eric no less. For this, the band's second long player he's drafted in a loose collective of pals that include former Hefner frontman Darren Hayman, Death In Vegas bandmate Mat Flint and three quarters of the Mary Epworth band.

There's No Underground is an album that only someone of a certain age could have made. In some ways a tribute to the pre-punk '70s, when bubblegum pop and glam-rock ruled the charts and airwaves. A Cloud Fallen Down From The Sky brings to mind Terry Jacks' Seasons In The Sun, Nutflake Social is bubblegum pop that borrows melodically from Rocky Horror's The Time Warp, while Accident's Children takes late-era T Rex as its sonic template those records when Marc was getting turned on to sophisticated New York soul and disco.

A lot of artists and albums have mined this era, Denim's Back In Denim, Vinny Peculiar's Other People Like Me and The Dirtbombs' Ooey Gooey Chewy KaBluey! being just three that spring to mind. What sets There's No Underground apart is that it's no nudge-y in-joke. Although inspired by the pop-tastic early '70s it has a strange suburban sadness running through it. Perhaps due in no small part to it's end-of-the-line geographical genesis. (The album title refers not to some comment on today's musical climate, but to Ian Button's home on the edge of south-east London). For all this the tunes are still as catchy as a keep-net.

There's No Underground is available on a variety of formats (including a triple 7” pack), each containing different mixes and alternate takes. Take your pick! Whichever format you choose you won't be disappointed by the songs.

Click here for the Papernut Cambridge website.

Click here for Gare Du Nord Records.

Darren Hayman - The Ship's Piano

One from the heart. The ever busy former Hefner frontman releases an album of tender piano ballads.

In late 2009 Darren Hayman ended up in hospital with a fractured skull. In the following months of enforced recuperation he wrote a series of songs that ended up being his latest album The Ship's Piano. With constant dizziness and some deafness in one ear, anything loud or jarring was out. The resulting music Hayman describes as “round and smooth, like well worn pebbles”. It's an apt description. There's a gentleness and tasteful restraint at play, his playing style's not flashy or virtuoso, more “Lennon doing his simple chords” kinda stuff. Added to this are unobtrusive drums, the occasional trumpet solo and a bit of accordian. Save for four tracks it was all recorded at Hayman's home, giving the album an intimate and warm field-recording feel.

Perhaps also due to the therapeutic nature of the album's genesis, the lyrics are mostly first-person, simple yet still keenly observed as one would expect. Take A Breather is a middle-aged reflective love song of sorts, referencing lost gloves, rusty bicycle chains and leaves turning to mildew. Though still personal Oh Josephine benefits from Hayman's wry touch and ability to convey a scene with the smallest of details.

Click over the jump for more on The Ship's Piano.