A republic of songs
It has been decades since folk songs were a force to reckon with in popular music. Now, they are seeing a huge revival with a clutch of compelling albums from some very “freaky” people. We take a look.
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Folk music is people’s music. It is music about memories, old stories and unforgettable characters. Yet, more than any passing fad, folk music provides a vital continuity from then to now to hereafter. Perhaps it is this timelessness and the inherent simplicity of a musician and his instrument connecting the ethereal with the worldly that makes it so vital.
As it was true of Bob Dylan, Fairport Convention, The Band and The Grateful Dead in the ‘60s, so it is true of another bunch of musicians like Devendra Banhart, Joanna Newsom and the Espers—names that you might not have heard. Why? Very simply because they’re all independent artistes—staying away from big labels and remaining fiercely unconventional. After the hey-days of folk rock in the early to mid-70s, such music went quietly underground, swept off the pages by disco, punk and later, electronica. A revival was on the cards.
And slowly, this has come to pass, starting in the ‘90s, with such gifted singer-songwriters as Elliot Smith, who’s lo-fi songs, as on his self-titled sophomore album, influenced a host of musicians to unplug the electric guitars and do some soul-searching. The rediscovery of the haunted genius of Nick Drake played a crucial role, as did the consistently brilliant music of low-key stylists like Animal Collective. All these diverse strands came to a head this decade as the folk revival started realising its dormant potential.
Devendra Banhart
The poster boy of the indie-folk scene, Banhart is easily the “freakiest” of the lot. Boasting of a rich beard, the likes of which have been seldom seen since the ‘70s, he is also a deeply eccentric young man who can irritate with his mannerisms on one song only to deliver an emotional stunner on the next. A Texan by birth, he settled in New York where he recorded his first album, the eerie, disembodied Oh Me Oh My in 2002, which firmly established him as a musician with a unique voice and vision.
Influenced by Drake and the Brazilian folk singer Caetano Veloso, the slow-burning album garnered immense critical acclaim on the strength of songs like the stream-ofconsciousness Nice People and Hey Miss Cane. In many ways, however, the folk scene only really arrived via his sophomore album Cripple Crow, a long 22-song set that again received rave reviews and actually sold by the cartloads, catapulting Banhart to stardom.
His musical palette had matured; so along with the acoustic songs came newer, more band-oriented songs like the dark Long Haired Child and the psychedelic I Feel Just Like a Child.
Late last year, his new album, Smokey Rolls Down Thunder Canyon, was released. Musically in the same vein as Cripple Crow, and recorded in LA’s Topango Canyon, it is a remarkably mature record with autumnal pianos, inventive guitar playing and soulful lyrics. Check out Seahorse, Rosa and Cristobal, which is sung in Spanish, his native tongue.
Hear Devendra Banhart on www.myspace.com/devendrabanhart
Joanna Newsom
Folk music is primarily about telling stories, stories that transcend the borders between the personal and the universal. And none of the new folk luminaries tells better stories than the Californian harpist and singer-songwriter Joanna Newsom. Here’s an example.
On her second album, the eerie Ys (pronounced eees), there’s a song, Monkey and Bear. Through a beautifully realised allegory of a greedy and possessive monkey and a caring bear, Newsom tells a true story of the exploitation inherent in any relationship.
It’s a true story not only because it’s inspired by her own life, but also because it’s the truth of experience. And therein lies the 26-year-old’s greatest strength. Her words and music conjure up a lost world that is also compellingly rooted in the here and now.
Newsom first shot to fame with her debut album, The Milk Eyed Mender, in 2004, a collection of strikingly original, dreamy songs that showcased her penchant for bluegrass music and Appalachian folk on tracks like This Side Of Blue and Peach, Plum, Pear. Touring to great acclaim, she became the folk goddess to Devendra Banhart’s wild-child. Her immense songwriting talent and adeptness at orchestration ensured that Ys became the masterpiece that the genre demanded.
Hear Joanna Newsom on www.joanna-newsom.com/
Espers
In his seminal book, Invisible Republic, writer Greil Marcus draws striking parallels between the rich tradition of American folk music—blues, bluegrass, gospel and old-time minstrelsy—documenting the inner life of a nation and Bob Dylan’s songs, especially on The Basement Tapes, which he recorded with The Band. Peopled by an alternative society of outlaws, conmen, travelling musicians, pastors, Eskimos and gunslingers, Marcus named the tradition Weird Old America.
Taking a note out of that book and that music, you could call the music the Espers make the “Weird New America”. Formed in 2001, this Philadelphia-based sextet started life as a trio, releasing its eponymous debut in 2004 with haunting songs like the autoharpdriven Flowery Noontide or the Fairport Convention influenced Voices. The band’s success at making songs sound timeless—or at least like modern interpretations of old folk tunes—continued on its second album II, with songs like Dead Queen, which sounds like Elizabethan baroque or Widow’s Weed and the hypnotic Mansfield and Cyclops. Unlike the band’s fellow folk travellers, Espers’ music is rooted more in the English folk music canon, but you can hear influences as far removed as The Velvet Underground, especially in the carefully constructed string sections and excursions into avant garde noise.
On top of it all, the Espers possess two outstanding singers in Greg Weeks and Meg Baird, who keep the band’s sonic explorations rooted with perfect vocals. And for all the folky trappings, Espers’ music is a melodious yet menacing swirl of sound.
Hear the Espers on www.myspace.com/espers
As it was true of Bob Dylan, Fairport Convention, The Band and The Grateful Dead in the ‘60s, so it is true of another bunch of musicians like Devendra Banhart, Joanna Newsom and the Espers—names that you might not have heard. Why? Very simply because they’re all independent artistes—staying away from big labels and remaining fiercely unconventional. After the hey-days of folk rock in the early to mid-70s, such music went quietly underground, swept off the pages by disco, punk and later, electronica. A revival was on the cards.
And slowly, this has come to pass, starting in the ‘90s, with such gifted singer-songwriters as Elliot Smith, who’s lo-fi songs, as on his self-titled sophomore album, influenced a host of musicians to unplug the electric guitars and do some soul-searching. The rediscovery of the haunted genius of Nick Drake played a crucial role, as did the consistently brilliant music of low-key stylists like Animal Collective. All these diverse strands came to a head this decade as the folk revival started realising its dormant potential.
Devendra Banhart
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Devendra Banhart
Influenced by Drake and the Brazilian folk singer Caetano Veloso, the slow-burning album garnered immense critical acclaim on the strength of songs like the stream-ofconsciousness Nice People and Hey Miss Cane. In many ways, however, the folk scene only really arrived via his sophomore album Cripple Crow, a long 22-song set that again received rave reviews and actually sold by the cartloads, catapulting Banhart to stardom.
His musical palette had matured; so along with the acoustic songs came newer, more band-oriented songs like the dark Long Haired Child and the psychedelic I Feel Just Like a Child.
Late last year, his new album, Smokey Rolls Down Thunder Canyon, was released. Musically in the same vein as Cripple Crow, and recorded in LA’s Topango Canyon, it is a remarkably mature record with autumnal pianos, inventive guitar playing and soulful lyrics. Check out Seahorse, Rosa and Cristobal, which is sung in Spanish, his native tongue.
Hear Devendra Banhart on www.myspace.com/devendrabanhart
Joanna Newsom

Joanna Newsom
On her second album, the eerie Ys (pronounced eees), there’s a song, Monkey and Bear. Through a beautifully realised allegory of a greedy and possessive monkey and a caring bear, Newsom tells a true story of the exploitation inherent in any relationship.
It’s a true story not only because it’s inspired by her own life, but also because it’s the truth of experience. And therein lies the 26-year-old’s greatest strength. Her words and music conjure up a lost world that is also compellingly rooted in the here and now.
Newsom first shot to fame with her debut album, The Milk Eyed Mender, in 2004, a collection of strikingly original, dreamy songs that showcased her penchant for bluegrass music and Appalachian folk on tracks like This Side Of Blue and Peach, Plum, Pear. Touring to great acclaim, she became the folk goddess to Devendra Banhart’s wild-child. Her immense songwriting talent and adeptness at orchestration ensured that Ys became the masterpiece that the genre demanded.
Hear Joanna Newsom on www.joanna-newsom.com/
Espers
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Espers
Taking a note out of that book and that music, you could call the music the Espers make the “Weird New America”. Formed in 2001, this Philadelphia-based sextet started life as a trio, releasing its eponymous debut in 2004 with haunting songs like the autoharpdriven Flowery Noontide or the Fairport Convention influenced Voices. The band’s success at making songs sound timeless—or at least like modern interpretations of old folk tunes—continued on its second album II, with songs like Dead Queen, which sounds like Elizabethan baroque or Widow’s Weed and the hypnotic Mansfield and Cyclops. Unlike the band’s fellow folk travellers, Espers’ music is rooted more in the English folk music canon, but you can hear influences as far removed as The Velvet Underground, especially in the carefully constructed string sections and excursions into avant garde noise.
On top of it all, the Espers possess two outstanding singers in Greg Weeks and Meg Baird, who keep the band’s sonic explorations rooted with perfect vocals. And for all the folky trappings, Espers’ music is a melodious yet menacing swirl of sound.
Hear the Espers on www.myspace.com/espers