The Furrow Collective is an award-winning and critically acclaimed English/Scottish band consisting of four distinctive and talented performers: Lucy Farrell (viola, voice & saw), Rachel Newton (harp, fiddle, voice), Emily Portman (banjo, concertina, voice) and Alasdair Roberts (guitars, voice). The group formed in 2013, drawn together by a shared love of traditional song and balladry of the England, Scotland and beyond and an open, intuitive approach to collaboration. In recognition of their innovative approach, The Furrow Collective were awarded the accolade of 'Best Band' at the 2017 BBC Radio Two Folk Awards, hot on the heels of the release in late 2016 of their second album, Wild Hog (Hudson Records).
The Furrow Collective's 2014 debut album, At Our Next Meeting (Furrow Records), was recorded with award-winning producer Andy Bell and was variously heralded as 'a quietly triumphant set' (The Guardian), ‘a quietly thrilling approach to traditional song'(R2 Magazine) and 'one of the finest collaborative albums of the past few years' (Folk Radio UK). Boasting a stripped-back power, the album led to a nomination for Best Group and Best Traditional Track in the 2015 BBC Radio Two Folk Awards and a live session on BBC Radio Two. 2015's five-song EP Blow Out the Moon was similarly well-received, resulting in another Best Traditional Track nomination the following year. The group's aforementioned second album, Wild Hog (Hudson Records) shows a markeddevelopment in the group's sound and approach, with guest musicians Alex Neilson (Trembling Bells) on drums and Stevie Jones(Sound of Yell) on double bass helping to provide fuller, richer arrangements.
The Furrow Collective tours extensively throughout the UK as well as in mainland Europe, delighting audiences with their uniquelybeguiling approach to traditional song.
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'A mouthwatering collaboration' Mojo
'A quietly thrilling approach to traditional song' R2 Magazine |
'Splendidly atmospheric' fRoots
‘A bravely sparse and compelling new take on traditional songs... A quietly classy young folk band’ Guardian |
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November 2016 saw the release of the group's second album, Wild Hog, on new imprint Hudson Records. Again produced by Andy Bell and building on the success of its predecessor, Wild Hog shows a marked development in the group's sound and approach, featuring guest musicians Alex Neilson (Trembling Bells) on drums and Stevie Jones (Sound of Yell) on double bass. The Furrow Collective has toured extensively throughout the UK as well as in mainland Europe. Lucy, Rachel, Emily and Alasdair will continue to tour around the release of Wild Hog and into the future, delighting audiences far and near with their uniquely beguiling approach to traditional song.
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Wild Hog review – a masterclass in folk tradition
*****
Neil Spencer, for the Observer
Each member of this quartet boasts their own place in the British folk scene, but is the group more than the sum of its parts? This second album gives a more convincing affirmation than their 2014 debut, with fine vocal harmonies and deft instrumental interplay testifying to intense teamwork between Alasdair Roberts, Emily Portman, Lucy Farrell and Rachel Newton. They take turns to lead on a selection of antique balladry that veers between the jolly (an Appalachian-style title track) and the doomstruck (a neo-rock version of Willie’s Fatal Visit). Banjo, electric guitar, harp and fiddle combine variously, nowhere better than on the rueful Many’s the Night’s Rest. A winningly produced masterclass in folk tradition.
*****
Neil Spencer, for the Observer
Each member of this quartet boasts their own place in the British folk scene, but is the group more than the sum of its parts? This second album gives a more convincing affirmation than their 2014 debut, with fine vocal harmonies and deft instrumental interplay testifying to intense teamwork between Alasdair Roberts, Emily Portman, Lucy Farrell and Rachel Newton. They take turns to lead on a selection of antique balladry that veers between the jolly (an Appalachian-style title track) and the doomstruck (a neo-rock version of Willie’s Fatal Visit). Banjo, electric guitar, harp and fiddle combine variously, nowhere better than on the rueful Many’s the Night’s Rest. A winningly produced masterclass in folk tradition.
Wild Hog review – folk songs full of death and magic
*****
Robin Denselow for the Guardian
A compelling style and sound … the Furrow Collective.
Much of the best recent British folk music has come from groups of musicians already well known for their solo work and involvement in other projects, and the Furrow Collective fall firmly into this category. Alasdair Roberts, Emily Portman, Lucy Farrell and Rachel Newton got together to re-work traditional songs, and the second Collective album shows they have developed a compelling style and sound of their own. There are no unaccompanied songs this time, and they have added bass and drums, courtesy of the gently inventive Alex Neilson. They start with Roberts’ cheerful, banjo-backed Wild Hog in the Woods, then ease into the kind of songs full of death, magic or gloom in which they specialise. From Portman’s harp and fiddle-backed Barbara Allen to Farrell’s thrilling but gruesome Willie’s Fatal Visit, and the exquisite harmony work on Many’s the Night’s Rest, it’s a fresh, gently powerful set.
*****
Robin Denselow for the Guardian
A compelling style and sound … the Furrow Collective.
Much of the best recent British folk music has come from groups of musicians already well known for their solo work and involvement in other projects, and the Furrow Collective fall firmly into this category. Alasdair Roberts, Emily Portman, Lucy Farrell and Rachel Newton got together to re-work traditional songs, and the second Collective album shows they have developed a compelling style and sound of their own. There are no unaccompanied songs this time, and they have added bass and drums, courtesy of the gently inventive Alex Neilson. They start with Roberts’ cheerful, banjo-backed Wild Hog in the Woods, then ease into the kind of songs full of death, magic or gloom in which they specialise. From Portman’s harp and fiddle-backed Barbara Allen to Farrell’s thrilling but gruesome Willie’s Fatal Visit, and the exquisite harmony work on Many’s the Night’s Rest, it’s a fresh, gently powerful set.
Thomas Blake for FRUK
To understand the immense appeal of The Furrow Collective – the quartet comprising Emily Portman, Lucy Farrell, Rachel Newton and Alasdair Roberts – it’s worth taking a look at the video for Wild Hog In The Woods, the lead track from Wild Hog. Beautifully directed by animator Chris Cornwell, it is hallucinatory, funny and sad. It’s Dr Seuss-on-peyote narrative features dismembered knights, boat-carving beavers and an incongruous mouthless ghoul with a tape recorder. The overall feel is Southern Gothic meets Day of the Dead carnivalesque with a liberal smattering of British folklore and overtones of post-Kafka absurdity. It’s a thrilling mix, and an inclusive one, allowing contemporary images to subtly permeate the old-time nature of the tale. The song itself is a rollicking update of the mythological man-eating boar story often known as Old Bangum. This version is taken from an American retelling of what was originally a British song. Roberts takes the lead vocal and sings it with unabashed glee, while Portman’s banjo hints at the tune’s transatlantic heritage.
This wilful amalgamation of traditions and admittance of contemporary elements is one of the things that keep folk music fresh and relevant, and it is tangible throughout Wild Hog. Accomplished folklorists as well as extraordinary musicians, the quartet dig up some of the less well-known songs in the folk tradition and steep them in their own very distinctive sound – a formula that worked brilliantly on their 2014 debut At Our Next Meeting and is even more successful here. Farrell’s take on Dear Companion is taken from Appalachian dulcimer player Jean Ritchie‘s song book, and is backed up by moody electric guitar, al la Steeleye Span. Farrell’s lead vocal has a jazzy smokiness to it, and the song is both a deft modernisation and a fitting tribute to Ritchie, who died last year. The mood is continued by the Prince Heathen, a lengthy tale of unwanted courtship with supernatural overtones whose message is shockingly relevant to contemporary discourse about consent and sexual autonomy. It is a stunning song, made all the more harrowing by the clarity and lack of adornment in its delivery.
Barbara Allen is by far the most recognisable song here, but Portman’s tender arrangement and its unfamiliar ending give it new life, while Willie’s Fatal Visit, adapted by Farrell from a version by Martin Carthy and Ray Fisher, keeps up the pervasive preoccupation with death. Here the arrangement is startlingly modern, but retains a Celtic lilt. Portman’s Many’s The Night’s Rest could almost be a companion piece to Prince Heathen, with its determined message of female independence and individuality. It is a calm, minimal performance, with Roberts’ muffled backing vocals creating an interesting counterpoint, but it is not without its sadness.
Newton emerges as an accomplished and distinctive singer with the Gaelic Chur M’Athair Mise Dhan Taigh Charraideach (which translates as ‘My Father Sent Me To The House Of Sorrow). It is a haunting performance and is driven by a spare, deeply throbbing heartbeat of percussion.
The ballad Polly Vaughan has been recorded countless times, often with more levity than the subject-matter calls for (The Dillards did a fun, flippant version half a century ago). Farrell’s version is from Norfolk singer Harry Cox, and revives the timeless, mythological nature of the lyric with a sparse arrangement of drones and ghostly tinkles. Roberts’ Queen Eleanor’s Confession is a good example of how folk music can play fast and loose with history in order to arrive at a universal truth or moral (although in this case the moral is decidedly dubious). Musically, it resembles much of Roberts’ earlier work, particularly the album Too Long In This Condition. It is further proof that Roberts is one of the most singular singers and guitarists out there.
Another song with a moral is the Portman-led The Maiden Hind. One of the album’s most surprising choices, it comes not from the Hiberno-Anglo-American tradition but from Denmark. Portman’s delicate singing and 5/4 arrangement belies the tough lesson imparted by the lyrics. The final song is the prison ballad Beneath The Window Of My Cell, which Roberts sings with tenderness, and a doomy, bassy backdrop, eschewing traditional instrumentation in favour of a sound that is modern, minimal and incredibly atmospheric.
With Wild Hog, The Furrow Collective have surpassed their excellent debut with a set of songs that is mature, intelligent and experimental. Some credit should go to the supporting cast, of course: Alex Neilson does his usual excellent thing on drums, Sound Of Yell’s Stevie Jones is a formidable double bass player and Andy Bell‘s talents as a producer are again in evidence, tying the songs down to a coherent sound. But the quartet at the heart of this record, for all their differing styles, have hit upon something that has a rare sparkle to it. A deceptively simple, spell-bindingly beautiful record.
To understand the immense appeal of The Furrow Collective – the quartet comprising Emily Portman, Lucy Farrell, Rachel Newton and Alasdair Roberts – it’s worth taking a look at the video for Wild Hog In The Woods, the lead track from Wild Hog. Beautifully directed by animator Chris Cornwell, it is hallucinatory, funny and sad. It’s Dr Seuss-on-peyote narrative features dismembered knights, boat-carving beavers and an incongruous mouthless ghoul with a tape recorder. The overall feel is Southern Gothic meets Day of the Dead carnivalesque with a liberal smattering of British folklore and overtones of post-Kafka absurdity. It’s a thrilling mix, and an inclusive one, allowing contemporary images to subtly permeate the old-time nature of the tale. The song itself is a rollicking update of the mythological man-eating boar story often known as Old Bangum. This version is taken from an American retelling of what was originally a British song. Roberts takes the lead vocal and sings it with unabashed glee, while Portman’s banjo hints at the tune’s transatlantic heritage.
This wilful amalgamation of traditions and admittance of contemporary elements is one of the things that keep folk music fresh and relevant, and it is tangible throughout Wild Hog. Accomplished folklorists as well as extraordinary musicians, the quartet dig up some of the less well-known songs in the folk tradition and steep them in their own very distinctive sound – a formula that worked brilliantly on their 2014 debut At Our Next Meeting and is even more successful here. Farrell’s take on Dear Companion is taken from Appalachian dulcimer player Jean Ritchie‘s song book, and is backed up by moody electric guitar, al la Steeleye Span. Farrell’s lead vocal has a jazzy smokiness to it, and the song is both a deft modernisation and a fitting tribute to Ritchie, who died last year. The mood is continued by the Prince Heathen, a lengthy tale of unwanted courtship with supernatural overtones whose message is shockingly relevant to contemporary discourse about consent and sexual autonomy. It is a stunning song, made all the more harrowing by the clarity and lack of adornment in its delivery.
Barbara Allen is by far the most recognisable song here, but Portman’s tender arrangement and its unfamiliar ending give it new life, while Willie’s Fatal Visit, adapted by Farrell from a version by Martin Carthy and Ray Fisher, keeps up the pervasive preoccupation with death. Here the arrangement is startlingly modern, but retains a Celtic lilt. Portman’s Many’s The Night’s Rest could almost be a companion piece to Prince Heathen, with its determined message of female independence and individuality. It is a calm, minimal performance, with Roberts’ muffled backing vocals creating an interesting counterpoint, but it is not without its sadness.
Newton emerges as an accomplished and distinctive singer with the Gaelic Chur M’Athair Mise Dhan Taigh Charraideach (which translates as ‘My Father Sent Me To The House Of Sorrow). It is a haunting performance and is driven by a spare, deeply throbbing heartbeat of percussion.
The ballad Polly Vaughan has been recorded countless times, often with more levity than the subject-matter calls for (The Dillards did a fun, flippant version half a century ago). Farrell’s version is from Norfolk singer Harry Cox, and revives the timeless, mythological nature of the lyric with a sparse arrangement of drones and ghostly tinkles. Roberts’ Queen Eleanor’s Confession is a good example of how folk music can play fast and loose with history in order to arrive at a universal truth or moral (although in this case the moral is decidedly dubious). Musically, it resembles much of Roberts’ earlier work, particularly the album Too Long In This Condition. It is further proof that Roberts is one of the most singular singers and guitarists out there.
Another song with a moral is the Portman-led The Maiden Hind. One of the album’s most surprising choices, it comes not from the Hiberno-Anglo-American tradition but from Denmark. Portman’s delicate singing and 5/4 arrangement belies the tough lesson imparted by the lyrics. The final song is the prison ballad Beneath The Window Of My Cell, which Roberts sings with tenderness, and a doomy, bassy backdrop, eschewing traditional instrumentation in favour of a sound that is modern, minimal and incredibly atmospheric.
With Wild Hog, The Furrow Collective have surpassed their excellent debut with a set of songs that is mature, intelligent and experimental. Some credit should go to the supporting cast, of course: Alex Neilson does his usual excellent thing on drums, Sound Of Yell’s Stevie Jones is a formidable double bass player and Andy Bell‘s talents as a producer are again in evidence, tying the songs down to a coherent sound. But the quartet at the heart of this record, for all their differing styles, have hit upon something that has a rare sparkle to it. A deceptively simple, spell-bindingly beautiful record.
David Honigmann for the Financial Times
For the first couple of tracks, The Furrow Collective appear to have relocated to America. “Wild Hog In The Woods” powers along with fast-picked banjo; Jean Ritchie’s version of “Dear Companion”, sung here by Lucy Farrell, has a slow country bass sway. Then we are back in the British Isles: “Willie’s Fatal Visit” as a slow march; “Many’s The Night’s Rest” with harmony singing from all four voices. Rachel Newton takes the lead on “Chuir M’Athair Mise Dhan Taigh Charraideach”, a song for pressing cloth, as Alex Neilson’s drums pound like a racing heartbeat.
For the first couple of tracks, The Furrow Collective appear to have relocated to America. “Wild Hog In The Woods” powers along with fast-picked banjo; Jean Ritchie’s version of “Dear Companion”, sung here by Lucy Farrell, has a slow country bass sway. Then we are back in the British Isles: “Willie’s Fatal Visit” as a slow march; “Many’s The Night’s Rest” with harmony singing from all four voices. Rachel Newton takes the lead on “Chuir M’Athair Mise Dhan Taigh Charraideach”, a song for pressing cloth, as Alex Neilson’s drums pound like a racing heartbeat.
Mike Ainscoe for Louder than war
The second album from the quartet of Emily Portman, Lucy Farrell, Alasdair Roberts and Rachel Newton who make up The Furrow Collective – each individuals with star quality in their own right – sees them build on 2014’s ‘At Our Next Meeting’ to present a set of songs which criss crosses the English to the Scottish traditions and beyond.
Having struck gold with their debut, garnering all manner of Folk Award nominations, the bar of expectation has been set duly high. Last year’s ‘Blow Out The Moon’ EP kept The Collective in the frame and now it seems like they’ve followed the template of success to build on a solid foundation.
The focus once again lies in English and Scottish sources, seeing the four backed up by the production work and Hudson Records backing of Andy Bell as well as involving Trembling Bells drummer Alex Neilson and Stevie Jones from Sound Of Yell on double bass to fill out their sound. Having said that there’s a shift towards interpretations which invoke a strong Appalachian tone and texture. The opening ‘Wild Hog In The Wood’ followed rapidly by ‘Dear Companion’, are immediate markers in a shift in direction and one which makes the declaration from the off is that these songs have spent their life on various meandering journeys until landing briefly in the FC lap for their own particular coating, before moving on once more.
There’s a sparse take on the well known ‘Barbara Allen’, the Coracle String & Reed Ensemble being sampled in from the version on Emily Portman’s own ‘Coracle’ album and the soothing moods of ‘Willie’s Fatal Visit’ bely a gruesome tale accompanied by a pleasant melody, yet provide a contrast with a trip to the dark side. ‘Prince Heathen’ sets the tone which is brought to a hauntingly dramatic fulfilment on ‘Polly Vaughn’. Once again, the song’s gestation into Lucy Farrell’s interpretation is revealed within alongside the fascinating song origins which are all detailed in the sleeve notes for investigation.
Despite the rich musical heritage of the band, they continue in a vein of starkness on ‘Beneath The Window Of My Cell’ – a song published by Ewan MacColl and Peggy Seeger – presented over a droning ambience with the warning “never stay out late at night nor keep bad company” concluding another set which confirms The Furrow Collective as original and inventive interpreters of traditional song.
The second album from the quartet of Emily Portman, Lucy Farrell, Alasdair Roberts and Rachel Newton who make up The Furrow Collective – each individuals with star quality in their own right – sees them build on 2014’s ‘At Our Next Meeting’ to present a set of songs which criss crosses the English to the Scottish traditions and beyond.
Having struck gold with their debut, garnering all manner of Folk Award nominations, the bar of expectation has been set duly high. Last year’s ‘Blow Out The Moon’ EP kept The Collective in the frame and now it seems like they’ve followed the template of success to build on a solid foundation.
The focus once again lies in English and Scottish sources, seeing the four backed up by the production work and Hudson Records backing of Andy Bell as well as involving Trembling Bells drummer Alex Neilson and Stevie Jones from Sound Of Yell on double bass to fill out their sound. Having said that there’s a shift towards interpretations which invoke a strong Appalachian tone and texture. The opening ‘Wild Hog In The Wood’ followed rapidly by ‘Dear Companion’, are immediate markers in a shift in direction and one which makes the declaration from the off is that these songs have spent their life on various meandering journeys until landing briefly in the FC lap for their own particular coating, before moving on once more.
There’s a sparse take on the well known ‘Barbara Allen’, the Coracle String & Reed Ensemble being sampled in from the version on Emily Portman’s own ‘Coracle’ album and the soothing moods of ‘Willie’s Fatal Visit’ bely a gruesome tale accompanied by a pleasant melody, yet provide a contrast with a trip to the dark side. ‘Prince Heathen’ sets the tone which is brought to a hauntingly dramatic fulfilment on ‘Polly Vaughn’. Once again, the song’s gestation into Lucy Farrell’s interpretation is revealed within alongside the fascinating song origins which are all detailed in the sleeve notes for investigation.
Despite the rich musical heritage of the band, they continue in a vein of starkness on ‘Beneath The Window Of My Cell’ – a song published by Ewan MacColl and Peggy Seeger – presented over a droning ambience with the warning “never stay out late at night nor keep bad company” concluding another set which confirms The Furrow Collective as original and inventive interpreters of traditional song.