So I'm going to go out on a major limb here and say it...
'I want to fuck the chick out of Trees'.
There, it's done, I got it off my chest.
I have no idea what she looks like and my admittedly appalling maths tells me that she is anywhere between 60 and dead years old. Why such a wild and potentially flawed gambit? I hear you ask. Well Celia Humphris for I believe that is her name just presented me with the first music I have wanted to masturbate to since Belinda Carlisle did 'Leave a Light on'. Actually, wait, no. I did briefly flirt with the idea of banging one out to that Hillary Duff single from about five years back as well but anyway...
I have heard this album before but never really given it the attention it so rightly deserves. I am obviously slow to the starting line with this due to the fact it was given a very considered re-issue treatment a couple of years back. Celia's voice is that of an angel, an angel next door wearing a skimpy t-shirt and hockey socks. This record, as I am sure every other site on the net will tell you is nothing short of English Folk gold dust.
All I know of the rest of the band comes from the sleeve notes of a CD compilation called 'Gather in the Mushrooms' and that is that the band is called Trees. Pretty informative I know. I could regurgitate various facts and figures farmed from Wikipedia and the like but I don't really see the point - And that's not just because my internet connection is playing up.
What I will do is briefly lament about the first time I heard that CD. It was on holiday with family and friends in Portugal. The last Johnny Cash album had just come out and that and 'Gather in the Mushrooms' were on heavy rotation from the kitchen table to the balcony and on occasion on the beach. Not exactly holiday music I know but I was making a concerted effort to play something that had a wide reaching appeal. It didn't work and often as not the CDs were being substituted for ABBA and or Tina Turner. If ever they form a supergroup there certain members of my family who could quite literally explode with excitement.
Now let's take a look at the sleeve: Crazy midget woman throwing milk at the camera, okay, well that's great. An exercise in 'how not to sell me a record' if ever there was one. 'On The Shore' looks like it smells of dirty beard hair, cat food and cigarettes which is a shame because the record itself is nothing short of stunning.
Not to say the album isn't without it's dips. The final two tracks on side two 'Little Sadie' and 'Polly on the Shore' explore what can only be described as Country and Western territory and there's just something very odd about these Acid? Folk stalwarts opting to do that, I mean why? Unless of course you are the Stones circa Exile then you can do what you like, all is forgiven. But that really is the only criticism I can level at this work. The instrumentation is beautiful and its played without fault throughout. Now I don't know anywhere near enough about this scene to go into too much detail so all I will say is 'On the Shore' is fucking awesome, go and buy it.
Now all I have to do to complete the picture and satisfy my folk based sexual curiosity is try and outbid those crazy cats on Ebay who seem convinced the band's first album 'The Garden of Jane Delawney' is worth over a hundred quid.
NB: I just successfully Googled a picture of the lovely Celia, yes it was black and white and less than detailed but off the back of this I am more than happy with my opening statement.
GET SOME! Celia you saucy folk music urchin.