Album Of The Week: Life in a Paper Boat by Kate Rusby

Anyone familiar with folk music will be familiar with Kate Rusby’s 2016 album, Life In A Paper Boat. (Those that are not should listen to it like, right now. Seriously. Go! I’ll be waiting when you get back.) Rusby is a titan of the British folk scene and is well into a thirty-year career with not a bad album to her name. All her music is perfectly put together, be it traditional folk tunes or songs of her own. However, despite the undeniable quality of all her albums, there is something about Life In A Paper Boat (her fourteenth project) that stands head and shoulders above the rest. Not only is it an absolute masterclass in folk music, but the album was also light years ahead of its time, pushing the boundaries of what folk music could sound like to their absolute limits. I was fourteen when the album came out, and it changed the way I thought about folk music completely. It has left a mark on my life that cannot be understated.

Prior to this album’s release, Rusby was already well known and established in the British folk music scene. Her albums had all been received with high acclaim, from earlier entries such as the *Girl Who Couldn’t Fly, *to the melancholy and lightly gothic, Ghost. Her sound fit nicely within the British/Celtic folk tradition, with a focus on an acoustic sonic direction. Lots of banjo, guitar, maybe some mandolin. And always a good fiddle, of course. She had always showed a flair for innovation, however, which can be seen in her earlier interpretations of folk standards. For example, her rendition of ‘I Am Stretched On Your Grave’, is based around a ‘dirgelike’ drone, backed only by a simple drum beat that makes the listener feel they are listening to it at the grave itself. Or in the title track of her album Ghost, which uses slightly processed, reverberated backing vocals to give the track a haunting, ghostly feel.

In Life In A Paper Boat, Rusby brings these two elements- the innovation and the love of traditional folk sounds- together in perfect harmony, creating an album that was so ahead of its time, it still sounds new today, seven years later. The album is a mix of traditional folk staples, old poems that Rusby has set to music, and original songs. The most notable aspect is her use of modern instrumentation and technology. The production makes heavy use of synthesizers, programmed drum machines, and electric guitar, in a way that no folk album had done before or since. This mix of modern technology and old, archaic music and language, gives the entire album an ethereal, supernatural, mystical sound that enchants the listener from start to finish. And it does all this, while very much remaining folk music. Despite the instruments used, this is not an indie-folk album, or a folk-rock album, or any other kind of fusion genre. It is folk, but folk as you’ve never heard it before.

The album begins with traditional folk song ‘Benjamin Bowmaneer’, which sets the tone of the album going forward; beautiful, slightly eerie, with lyrics that make you think. The song dates to the 17th century in England, and tells the tale of a Tailor, so excited by his patriotism during the Hundred Years War, he decides to send himself off to battle using his tailor’s tools. On the way he gets into a scrap with a fly, kills it using a needle, and then proceeds to hold a funeral for it. The absurdity of the story, and the production on the song take the listener completely out of the modern world and takes you into the magical, mythical world Rusby creates in the album.

Track number two brings down the energy a little, with ‘Hunter Moon’, a song written by Rusby herself. It is sung from the perspective of the moon, desperately in love with the sun as they pass by each other each sunrise and sunset, but never together long enough to convey how much it adores it. The song contains some of the best lyrics on the album, and stunning imagery, with lines like “the world comes alive for her, in awe at her gaze, and suddenly the sky is ablaze.” It lays the foundations of the lyrical themes of the album, which centre on unrequited love, longing for a home or person you cannot have, and the magic that exists just under the surface of everyday life.

Despite the album’s novelty, Rusby maintains her signature style, including her ability to set old forgotten poems to music, creating some of the most stunningly beautiful songs I’ve ever heard. My favourites on this album include the ‘Ardent Shepherdess’, in which young Jane tries to barter thirty of her sheep for a single kiss from her sweetheart. The song is produced with a more traditional acoustic sound and is a little more upbeat than some of the prior tunes while still holding on to that melancholy feel that runs through the album. ‘Only Desire What You Have’, placed a little later in the album does similar thing, acting as a pick me up from the more down beat tunes prior. This song has some of my favourite lyrics on the album and is particularly tongue in cheek in that very specific way old folk songs can be. The last of the songs based on old poems is ‘Hundred Hearts’, another highlight. A simple sweet love song, declaring devotion. Whether that devotion is platonic, familial or romantic is not made clear, which makes me like it more.

The title song of the album ‘Life In A Paper Boat’ was written by Rusby herself and is certainly one of her best. Both in the sound and lyrics, which remain especially relevant today, perhaps more so than when it was written. Rusby was inspired to write the song when watching news coverage of the European migrant/refugee crisis. Rusby, a mother herself, was struck with empathy for the mothers that were forced to make such difficult and heartbreaking decisions for their children, as well as the heartbreak of being forced to leave your homeland. With lines such as “A boat made of paper it set sail with me. Oh how I’ve grown weary, […] now I’m far from free, and oh, won’t you stay near me. […] This bundle that I carry is worth more to me than life, there’s only me to hold her now that I’m no more a wife,” the song is bursting with loss, love and grief, while being politically modern and sharp, and is an absolute must listen for those who have not heard the album before.

As the album progresses, the songs stretch further into the mystical and ethereal, and the production evolves to match, with increased use of those synthesizers and electric guitars. ‘The Witch of the Westmoreland’ is a prime example of this, a cover of the 1974 song by Archie Fisher, which tells the wonderful and weird story of a Roman knight who encounters the titular Witch of the Westmoreland. Fisher himself described it as mix of legend, superstition, and ballad themes, with imagery of a witch in disguise, and “antlered women with the bodies of deer wading in the shallows of lakes.” In Rusby’s version, the use of electric guitar and synth drenches this song in eerie, ancient sounds. The listener feels as though they are in the moor, wandering through the fog with the witch lurking nearby, as crows circle overhead. My personal favourite song on the album has a similar sound to it; another Rusby original called ‘The Mermaid’. This one uses similar production and technology tricks to place the reader on a ship at night far in the ocean, with Celtic influences all the way through and some of the best harmonies and vocals on the entire record. It gives me shivers, every time I hear it.

After 'The Mermaid' we have what is perhaps the most modern sounding track on the album, another Rusby original called 'I’ll Be Wise.' The song tells a simple story of unrequited love that refuses to go away and includes some of the best production on the record, with a distorted, muffled guitar underneath the whole thing, that builds to one of the best conclusions in the album. And then, perhaps to throw the listener off, the album moves on to another of my personal favourites, ‘Night Lament’. Where ‘I’ll Be Wise’ sounds modern and current, listening to ‘Night Lament’ feels like hearing an impossibly ancient time, with stunning strings and mysterious lyrics. The song an old god might sing, if they landed on earth.

The album closes out on ‘Big Brave Bill’, which sees a return of the old, acoustic Rusby sound. It is the most upbeat song on the album by quite a mile and is a good pick me up after the last couple of tracks. The song is a celebration of all things Yorkshire, in which Rusby sings of Yorkshire superhero, ‘Big Brave Bill’, who drinks Yorkshire tea all the time. At first listen, it might seem a little incongruent with the rest of the record, but at its core, it summarises all the threads Rusby has been weaving throughout. The magic, mystery and tragedy lying within our own, modern, everyday life.

This album was a game-changer for me, and if you haven’t heard it yet, I highly encourage you to. You won’t have heard folk like it.

By Holly Hughes-Rowlands