"Folkal Point" (UK Folk 1971)

Review by Patrick the Lama: Since noone else seems to be doing it we continue our examination of overlooked British folk titles, based on the assumption that they some day will be reissued, as they must. Of four such folk obscurities I recently got to hear thanks to the generosity of a fellow country-man the unspeakably rare album by FOLKAL POINT was clearly the best. The LP came out on the hallowed (among less than 50 people) Midas record label, an operation masterminded by the same cunning gentleman that ran the Folk Heritage operation; his Midas £1000 stable also includes the slightly better known Gallery LP and a couple of less rare titles by Janet Jones, one of which I've heard and wasn't impressed by.

Bristol area outfit Folkal Point on the other hand is an obvious delight, with elements likely to attract almost anyone with an ear for gentle rural 1970s sounds with psych overtones. Sweet female vocals is the poison of many a folk fiend and this has an abundance of it, in fact the sounds emitting from Cherie Musialik are gorgeous to a point where I have to cast a wide net to come up with comparisons; but if you can imagine a warm tone halfway between the girl-child charms of Vasthi Bunyan and the lush village-beauty sound of early Mandy Morton, then I guess we're in the right shire. So appealing are these vocals that they become the defining characteristic of the album, and fortunately the Folkals seem to realize this as they play a selection of material that is absolutely right for the asset; haunting minor chord ballads with obvious debts owed to American 60s folk as well as the psychedelic sounds of subsequent years. If you expect a marvy "Scarborough Fair" from this description, you've got it. "Once I Knew A Pretty Girl"? Yes. Both are done in a manner closer to Shide & Acorn than Shirley Collins, with the arrangements displaying a clear bias towards the "rock" rather than "trad" side of the equation. The liner notes refer to the band playing electric on occasion and while this is an acoustic-oriented album, it's easy to imagine it being re-recorded with a full electric setting, the imaginary result recalling the Trees at their best.

Beginning at the beginning, there is a version of gospel tune "Twelve Gates Into The City", although there isn't much gospel left after Folkal Point have chased it through their enchanted forest. Then there's "Scarborough", which is followed by "Sweet Sir Galahad", whose artfully descending stair of minor chords may crown it my favorite on the whole album. Cherie's vocals are just stunning, it's like if one of those princess girls serenaded by Donovan suddenly started singing back. The hippie folkpsych takes on trad material progresses successfully through "Lovely Joan" before a contemporary note is introduced with "Circle Game" and its clever carousel metaphors. The footstomping US folk boom Pete Seeger sound of "Cookoo's Hollerin'" is less appealing, not because it's bad but because it fails to take advantage of the band's strengths. Luckily, it's the shortest track on the LP. Then there is a Spriguns-like take on "Edom O'Gordon" before the modern theme resurfaces in Tom Paxton's "Victoria Dines Alone", whose theme of female loneliness and depression seems highly poignant in 2003. It's a flawless performance, and likely to be the favorite track of listeners of a less folky persuasion. The Americanisms linger via a charming take on Dylan's "You ain't going nowhere", although it would have been more interesting to hear this one with female vocals -- but I guess the Folkal boys wouldn't settle for just picking guitar on ALL tracks.

Entering the last quarter the LP tightens its grip on the listener again, presenting the unorthodox chord structures and wave-like rhythms of "Anathea" which the liner notes credit to Lydia Wood, although the lyrical content is essentially the same as "Seven Curses" as done by young Bobby Dylan and others. This dark, despairing story is given a matching presentation by the band, opening doors to an eerie "downer folk" cellar not found elsewhere on the album. This is followed by the atmospheric, ensemble-sung "National seven", after which an excellent, folkrock-style take on "Once I Knew A Pretty Girl" closes the book on 40 minutes that are as impressive as anything you can hope to find within the genre. According to UK folk expert Ian at Ammonite, 500 copes were pressed of which half were lost in a flood. Let's hope it gets reissued ere the next millennium.