´óĎó´«Ă˝

Folk music suffers from a lot of stigma. Boring, inaccessible, crusty, boring, that kind of thing. This isn’t the experience I received when I saw Benji Kirkpatrick playing in store at the Rise record shop in Cheltenham on the 17th of February.

The songs were stark, but this genius made the smaller contrasts in the compositions sound huge. The definition of the music was remarkable. Every change between verse, chorus or bridge was distinct and powerful. To describe Benji’s music may not pay the dues it deserves.

Heartfelt and independent, the music stands alone on its own merits. However I get the feel of an unpretentious Sting acoustic set listening to the Fields of Gold style emotions encapsulated in song “Drift”. Perhaps the Levellers is another group that has a similar pallet, but please don’t be dissuaded from a genuine musician by fear of those other artists.

It’s incredibly hard to perform in front of people, I know this. What if you embarrass yourself, what if you forget your lines, what if you’re no good? There was no one creating a stage for the performer, no gap between the musician and the onlookers, but somehow people learnt how to just admire and gather around the competent performance.

Benji in action "in store".

Afterall, Benji has appeared on Later With Jools Holland along with his group Bellowhead, and played with Seth Lakeman, who himself was on GMTV, so perhaps the small feat of playing to curious locals wasn’t such a big achievement. But I greatly admired the confidence and knowledge of himself that Benji glowed.

A banjo only song “Wallbreaker” stood out as a wonderful composition. The lyrics invited me in, the imagery they created in my mind of an individual coveted by society were delivered in a way that could almost have sounded pretentious if it wasn’t truly humble.

“People fight for me, people pay for me…” however, it sounded the story was about how in this modern world people are swayed by advertisers, governments and others interested in influence. The way he explained how all this effort is made yet he fails to notice or care, is reminiscent of Neil Young’s lyric in Old Man “doesn’t mean that much to me, to mean that much to you” applied to a different time and a different situation.

Though could I be wrong, I was drawn into an interpretation. Which is part of being moved by music, to stop and think. Perhaps it was about someone conducting themselves to control a jealous lover, causing them great effort to maintain their attention. But even if I’m wrong, it doesn’t matter, because it made me think.

______________________________________

This article is an external contribution and expresses a personal opinion, not necessarily the views of the ´óĎó´«Ă˝.