Jenn Butterworth – Her By Design: Album Review
BY SEURAS OG ON • ( LEAVE A COMMENT )
February folds with the reveal that the folk tradition has a new giant, hiding in plain sight. Until now.
Release Date: 28th February 2025
Label: Self-Released/One in 10 Records
Format: CD / vinyl / digital
RHYTHM IS THE KEY
Bit of a shock to realise this is actually Jenn’s solo debut, so deeply ingrained has she become in my listening, over the last several years. Female rhythm guitarists, or, rather, female acoustic rhythm guitarists are not that much of a thing, you might think. So, welcome to Scotland, where the rhythm section, particularly in traditionally derived music, is the key to sink or swim, that rhythm section often singular and six-stringed, requiring a superlatively strong set of wrists, limitless stamina and impeccable time-keeping.
Those jigs and reels can be fiery and fast, encompassing rather more chords than you’d expect. Butterworth is one of the finest, and has become an ubiquitous figure at Celtic Connections and elsewhere, as a member of the feisty Kinnaris Quintet, in duos with Will Pound and with Kinnaris buddy, Laura-Beth Salter. as well as propping up such notaries as Ross Ainslie & Ali Hutton (Symbiosis), when they need some extra ballast.
THIS FISH CAN SING
So, is this an album of uber-swish jiggery pokery, to fizz your frontals and fuel your feet? Well, no, actually not, that is sort of taken as read, with, here, the focus on her other skills. One of these is her voice. Sure, she has sung before, and has always been perfectly adequate for the purpose, which, in the deep lochs of Scots talent, might cut insufficient mustard. Cast aside any such thoughts immediately, this fish can sing!
Secondly, she can write, even if that talent is confined to just a couple the eight songs here, the others showing of her arrangement and adaptation skills. And, if hardly surprisingly, she can play more than just guitar, her mandolin and mandola possibly more prominent here than her main instrument. And, if a skill is having an address book like hers, she certainly excels, gathering around her a coterie of her country’s finest, so as to fill out the sound.
THROWING DOWN THE GAUNTLET
To start with a Sandy Denny song sets down a mighty gauntlet. All Our Days isn’t, it’s true, necessarily the best known of the songs by the template to whom any female folk adjacent singer stands comparison, but Butterworth is more than up to it. From Denny’s Rendezvous album, the original suffers from a surfeit of syrupy orchestration; here it is given a brisk scrubbing up, upping the meter and allowing more emphasis on the melody. There is orchestration, but of the stellar string quartet persuasion, the Seonaid Aitken, Kirsty Orton, Patsy Reid and Alice Allen top table, and they surge the song into rhythmic joy.
Add in the bass of James Lindsay, the drums of Louis Abbott and percussive clatter of Signy Jakobsdottir, and it is as good as start as anything I’ve heard for more than a while. Oh, and did I mention the fault free rhythm guitar line that ripples along throughout, ceding only to the squelch of moog bass that Lindsay closes the track with? Gauntlet matched!
PURE VOCAL
The traditional Little Sparrow shows this no fluke, Butterworth singing sweetly to her own picked accompaniment of guitar and mandolin. The strings add a glisten of unobtrusive sheen. It is absolutely lovely, with a slow build that gradually ushers in the band. Remember Robin Dransfield? Well, his Fair Maids Of February is track 3, again mandolin/mandola to the fore, a leisurely stroll through some evocative imagery. The purity of Butterworth’s vocals are detached from any of the shrillness that can sometimes seep into this genre, a much cleaner sound than many of her contemporaries. It is suddenly hard to accept her main day job is in an instrumental band.
As The Housewive’s Lament starts, so too comes the realisation there is here a theme emerging. Butterworth has long been a champion of women’s rights, not least in the sometimes overly testosteroned field of Scottish traditional music, all beards and bagpipes. (Indeed, for some years she has offered herself as an “Auntie” to any performers of her sex, struggling in that environment.) The song has a dauntingly stark message that belies its status as a Roud ballad of some near 140 years standing: “Oh, life is a toil and love is a trouble, Beauty will fade and riches will flee.”
REJECTION, REVENGE, REGRET
She follows that with a song around rejection, revenge and regret, A Toast, one of her own, if based on old staple, Susan Brown. Shimmery strings open this cautionary tale, about the alternative to drudgery, leaving neither attractive to this mere male. The strings folk-rock out for this one, some solo fiddle, possibly Aitken, vying with the piano of Tom Gibbs.
Denny attributes sweep back in for One In Ten, a deliciously languid sway of a tune, with Butterworth pulling out all her vocal stops, showing herself a mistress of graceful control. A song, self penned, about endometriosis, a simultaneously bitter and resigned lament to the lot of those women, one in ten, afflicted, if very many less ever diagnosed. The arrangement is initially simple, mandola and bass, with, this time, the keyboard of Keir Long adding lustre, abetted by Allen’s cello. From being earlier an embarrassed male, suddenly I am an embarrassed (ex) medic. It is a striking song, and possibly the one that will be hardest to shake out of mind, for any number of reasons. Stunning.
PEARLS FROM THE TRAD
Jeannie is about forced marriage, and is another pearl from the annals of trad, always a reliable repositary of the badness of life. I’m feeling I should add that, despite all these worthy areas of attention, never does this album become either misanthropic diatribe or exclusively femcentric, especially should any of my sex be becoming wary of the content expressed and within. The band are arranged exquisitely in this song, the Lindsay/Abbott/Jakobsdottir axis perfectly balanced. Long is again applying some keyboard tinkle, Butterworth some more, on mandolin. The strings are, as ever, perfect. It is Aitken who has arranged this aspect throughout, if abetted by Butterworth for Fair Maids Of February and The Housewife’s Lament.
The final track, Her Bright Smile Haunts Me Still, another traditional song, possibly of regret, possibly an eulogy and likely both. Beginning with an attractive guitar pattern that gives a more modern texture, string bass and what sounds like vibraphone slotting in. Fiddle and drums strengthen that ambient feel. and this possibly becomes the most contemporary song here, irrespective the source. The strings pick up a riff that sustains the whole second section, sweeping it to a convincing close, multiple Butterworths adding in for a choral finish. A good job well done.
A BUMPER YEAR IN STORE?
If this year continues as strongly as this, we are due a bumper year, January and February delivering such a bounteous winter harvest. This sets the bar even higher, and Butterworth, and producer, Andrea Gobbi, should to be acknowledged for this accordingly. It is unlikely, either, that you will find more interesting album art, the imagery coming courtesy Somhairle MacDonald, both on the cover and in the booklet inside.
