Reviews

Reviews For Emily

Shindig Magazine (July/Aug 2010)
byJeanette Leech

'Those who are into their indie-folk have been very well served so far this year. The summer is shaping up to provide an especial glut and one of the standouts I’ve received for this column is Stories For Emily by Philip Butler & Natasha Tranter. SFE is in very seductive packaging - the CD is housed in a lyric and photograph album, covered in fabric – and the music is ghostlier and stranger than the usual alt-folk tramlines allow, but Butler’s voice does take a bit of warming to. '

R2 (Rock 'n' Reel) Magazine (May 2010)
by Oz Hardwick
4/5 Stars

"There is something Edwardian about the ambience of this release that begins with the hand-made, fabric covered book that houses the disc, like some forgotten lover’s keepsake found in the attic. The spell is completed when you press ‘play’, with Butler’s melancholy baritone drifting like a ghost through empty nurseries. Tranter’s expansive, sighing accordion provides the voices of the wind in the fireplace and Butler’s guitar is the rhythm of time and restless floorboards.
The air of luxuriant darkness is enhanced by guest contributions on fiddle, bass and ethereal backing vocals, each employed with deft subtlety: listening to the plaintive vocal on ‘Leaves & Twigs’, for example, the listener is shocked by the sudden realisation that the sparse backing has imperceptibly grown to mountainous proportions.
Privately pressed albums of the tenebrous, folky persuasion released in the 70s are currently demanding silly prices on the collectors market. If the aural equivalent of The Yellow Wallpaper is your bag, why not snap up this delicate offering from these delightful current exponents of the genre?"

Bliss Aquamarine (May 2010)

"Hot on the heels of Philip Butler's Trapped at Sea album, comes this latest collaboration between Philip Butler and Natasha Tranter (along with a few other guest musicians). I'm reviewing a promotional version with less extravagant packaging, but the actual release available to buy is packaged within a handmade fabric covered book - sounds fantastic! This handmade version is extremely limited, but a download is also available for those that prefer that format.
The music is contemporary acoustic songwriting that introduces a strong influence from traditional folk with its use of accordion and fiddle. Trapped at Sea still showed signs of Philip's background in indie music and post-punk, but that is not the case with Stories for Emily, which shows a more consistent folk emphasis. The songs are presented in a way that is very beautiful and moving. There is a strong sense of romance in some of the lyrics, and you get the feeling that Philip is baring his heart for all to see. There is also a recurring theme of English rural scenery throughout the album, which is conjured up vividly by Philip's lyrics. Another theme frequently explored is that of supernatural horror, which as any folk music aficionado will tell you, is not actually anything new in this genre. Real traditional folk is not just the fa-la-las and hey-nonny-no's of the stereotype; it is often extremely gory in its lyrical content.
Jack the Mommet is an eerie tale in the old supernatural murder ballad tradition, set to suitably otherworldly psych-folk instrumentation. Goodwin Sands tells of an 18th century shipwreck and subsequent haunting, and includes some very authentically traditional-sounding accompaniment. You would never guess this album came from an artist who was perfectly at home making indie-rock and noisepop a few years ago. Philip Butler is shaping up to be a seriously impressive folk artist with music to easily rival that of musicians with a much longer history in the folk scene. With the current popularity of folk music, I would not be surprised if Philip, Natasha and band go on to bigger things"

Mick Mercer (March 2010)
Source www.mickmercer.com

"I don’t know if any of you have ever been prompted by one of my reviews to get a record on chance but if not then tonight is the night, or today’s the day, depending on when you see this. (Hopefully tomorrow will be too late.) You may recall I wittered on grandly about Philip Butler’s ‘Trapped At Sea’ album, which rightly nestled near the top of my Albums Of The Year of 2009. Well, here he is again, with his partner Natasha Tranter, likely to do so the same again this year. It is another fine record, but what makes this so special is the care and attention taken in creating a limited edition of just 30 copies which comes as a hardbound CD-sized book, bound in cloth made from the dress Natasha is pictured wearing. Inside the book there are beautifully illustrated lyrics, and even individual photos that have been stuck in. An extraordinary thing indeed and the url provided at the bottom shows they have some left, and they’re just seven quid!!!! If I were you I’d but your copy before even bothering to read the rest of the review because you shouldn’t want to miss out.

So, the music. Once again it’s modern folk, and more in line with traditional feelings that you might expect, but having come from an indie background Butler isn’t subverting the form wildly, he’s dragging it sideways into places it doesn’t necessarily want to go, but happy also to be retained in place by the natural elasticity the scene’s traditions asserts. Homely stories co-exist with sighing, wistful sounds, just as the harsher atmospheres or odder strains can accommodate his weirder ideas.
‘Farewell’ is a very easy-going, subtly invigorating piece, couched in sentimental splendour, lovey-dovey ideals by the seaside. I’m not sure what’s happening in the calmly balmy ‘Leaves & Twigs’ but going by the images I suspect someone enchanted is taking a human to live inside a tree. The age old story! Musically quite drowsy it floats on an ethereal haze, and you’ll be easily captivated. ‘Emily, Where Have You Gone?’ is gloomier, as our protagonist enrages the listener being seemingly callous when describing the changes in the one-time object of his devotion who has aged terribly over the years, when he’s probably no oil painting himself after decades of gout. The tumbling chorus is jaunty in its own jaded way, and the cheerful finish abruptly suggests there could be a happy ending! (I particularly like the ‘pull yourself together sunshine’ instruction.) There then follows a Camberwick Green on speed instrumental in the giddy ‘A Gift From Dr. Forrest.’

‘Jack The Mommet’ is creepy and slow, telling the story of a scarecrow who snatches women to become his brides, the singer having lost his own love this way. (‘I’ve searched for her, and other maids who’ve lost their way, but all I’ve found are effigies, in gowns of hay.’) It’s beautifully spooky, even allowing for the fact Jack probably wouldn’t need to make effigies as he had the actual women, but we mustn’t let that get in the way of a good story. Also, I have never heard the word mommet before, so that’s good.

‘Goodwin Sands’ is about a flaming ghost ship said to reappear every fifty years (apparently the 1998 anniversary was crap due to mist – google if you don’t believe me) and a ghostly woman who leaves footprints in the sands. A lightly quivering song, you have the trembling vocals, the wheezy accordion and fluttering strings. That remains quite traditional, but it’s ‘The Coaching House’ which is more haunting, fittingly enough, as he recounts the nocturnal supernatural inhabitants. It switches wonderfully from a diminutive, tinny start to a swell of solemn vocals, establishing a queasy mood. Nothing explains why he’s sitting on the floor though, unless these are the notorious chair-eating ghosts of old Malvern? It’s an affecting little song, sweetly handled.

‘No White Rabbit’ finds him lapsing into his sentimental woes, admitting to having nightmares of his love being easily charmed by another. Apparently he struggles with this, trying to wake and phone her, which is simply poor planning, because how welcome would that be? (“I’ve been having nightmares!” “Do you have any idea what time it is? Go back to sleep, you big tart!”) The tune takes a frisky upturn as well, mocking his paranoia.

I’m annoyed I don’t recognise the dimpled notes at the start of ‘A Sorry Tragic Tale’ which is a magnificently dramatic, sweeping tale of two people killed in Snowdonia, the vocals used brilliantly, the atmosphere twisting and escalating, then muting respectfully. The only thing which ruins this is resorting to some la-la-la’s at the close, when that’s the place for a killer verse. ‘To Dream Of Death’ suffers the same fate, its miserable chiming tone reflecting the fate of Mary, the suspected witch. (I wonder if witchfinder-generally folk were ever tried for murder when ‘innocent’ people drowned?) This is no place for any la-la-laing either, but it does end with a dark flourish.

A fantastic record overall, and for those who get the limited edition a real work of art. Creativity, in an era of technological blandness. Cause for celebration."

FATEA Magazine (March 2010)

"If you want to prove that you can be dark without being dreary, checkout "Stories For Emily" from emerging duo Phillip Butler & Natasha Tranter. It's got a classic folk feel and combines conventional song with songs used as a story telling medium. Ghosts and ships lost at sea are a staple part of the dna of traditional music and it would be fair to say that this duo really have this aspect of the genre nailed as tight as a coffin lid in plague season. Its a cracking album, delightfully orchestrated and then delivered with Phillip's smokey baritone."

Mark Tucker, F.A.M.E. (USA) (February 2010)

"Should you be unaccountably longing for the elder days—well, the 60s/70s "elder" days of Steve Ashley, Richard Thompson, Pentangle, etc.—but also find yourself affinitive of Leigh Gregory (here) and other Byronesque moderns, curious just what might cure what ails ya in that regard, then Stories for Emily is the pharmaceutical you're seeking. Philip Butler and Natasha Tranter have created a chambered Renaissance-era disc as hoary as The Rime of the Ancient Mariner while crisply injecting occasional subtle rock modes (Emily, Where Have You Gone?) to keep matters fresh and vital as counterpoint to frequently drear atmospheres—'drear', that is, in the manner of Poe and Plath, shot with beauty of a different order.
Tranter sometimes sings behind her duetmate and wields a forlorn accordion all the more quietly powerful for its subdued nature, and Butler possesses a plaintive voice, accompanying himself with a Fahey-ish stark guitar that stretches the dolorous vistas of his tone even further. You're not going to get a moment's exuberance of ecstasy, that wasn't in the cards; instead, settle in for tales of woe at sea, on land, and in the air. I hope the Emily these yarns were crafted for has a constitution of steel, 'cause Sesame Street this ain't. Adults, however, beings hopefully well accustomed to tragedy and bitter disappointment, will find much to reflect upon…albeit suicidally. Thus, our dearest Emily must be of Edward Gorey and Syd Barrett vintage.
The base duet wisely chose a knowing set of accompanying musicians for that good ol' kinda creepy quiet small orchestra feel, as well as an outstanding engineer (not credited in the promo lit, but very impressive), all subdued, morticians to the affair, but more than knowledgeable of their task, executing with consummate grace and aplomb, eternally opening the casket for your viewing pleasure. I received the promo edition of the disc—quite nice in its simple beauty—but the regular release is an extravagant affair, a multi-artistic venture in a fabric-covered book indited with lyrics, photos, artwork, and the disc itself. Had they sent that highly attractive edition out as promos, Butler & Tranter would presently be broke, in the streets, and on the dole, so I suggest you grab a copy quickly, as it's understandably a very limited item and can't help but appeal as both art-piece and collector's item. Otherwise, you'll have to settle for a download once it sells out (and it will).
Don't think about it too long."

Tim Carroll, Folkwords (February 2010)

"What’s a year more or less? Well it’s enough time for Philip Butler to follow up his debut album and make considerable progress in the process. The new offering ‘Stories for Emily’ clearly comes from the same stable – similar recording style, same idiosyncratic vocals, same rich voice with a tendency to wander and still the same unique touch to folk. This time there is far more continuity between the instruments and the odd dissonance within the multi-layered songs only adds to the package. Once again the precise lyrics are a cornerstone of his work.
‘Stories for Emily’ is an album that explores both the near and far corners of British folk music forging new boundaries and kicking up ancient dust as it does. The songs slide from old to new with a deft and delicate touch. The gems include: ‘Farewell’ - from the first notes you’re hooked and want to hear more; especially that haunting piano accordion. ‘Emily, Where Have You Gone?’ - a narrative song that perfectly suits Philip’s delivery. ‘A Gift from Dr. Forrest is a delightful musical interlude. ‘Jack the Mommet’ and ‘The Coaching House’ are a pair of eerie tales filled with dire warnings and ghostly murmurings. And of course ‘No White Rabbit’ which conjures up yet one more ethereal outing for Philip’s vocal style.
As usual Philip handles vocals, plus guitar, mandolin, bass, reed organ and percussion; this time with the bonus of more from Natasha Tranter on accordion and vocals. He has also assembled the usual suspects to add their talents - Tom Collison (double bass, harpsichord, melodica, percussion) John-Joe Murry (fiddle) Holley Jeffery (vocals) with Andy Keith-Lucas and Craigus Barry guesting on track five.
Much as I hate ‘sounds like’ inserts that appear in reviews (often it’s just lazy reviewing) I keep hearing echoes of Dr Strangely Strange in this album. And that’s not ‘sounds like’ just ‘echoes of’. And that’s meant as a serious compliment. This album grows more powerful each time you listen, and it’s worth it – so take some time to listen to ‘Stories for Emily’."