Border
Lord
Bonny Brave Boys
Celtic Harps Productions CHP0301; 52
minutes; 2003
Sometimes the PR information accompanying an album
unintentionally reveals more about its subjects than its author probably
intended. Such is the case with Border Lord (a truly dreadful name reminiscent
of some bowsie heavy metal band) and their album Bonny Brave Boys (an
even more atrocious name derived from an equally dire song which appears on the
album). Said flyer informs the reader that the band’s singer, Rick Stanley is
capable of moving audiences “from tears to laughter in the space of a song with
his rich ‘Cat Stevens’ voice”. This is partly true since this reviewer burst
out laughing when he first heard the strained-hernia-type whine emanating from
Mr. Stanley’s larynx and then was tempted to weep at the prospect of wasting a
segment of his ever decreasing life-span by listening to the remaining
fifty-one minutes of the album. What Yousuf Islam would himself make of the
comparison to his dulcet tones is unrepeatable..
Rick
is not just content to murder The Light Dragoon (personally, and with
malice aforethought) but he also transforms Stewball and the Monaghan
Gray Mare (excitement guaranteed when sung by Andy Irvine) into a race
between a couple of addled old nags. Then there is his truly diabolical
self-composed song, Bonny Brave Boys, which contrives to suggest that
parents awaiting the return of their sons from the Vietnam War would wait at
the harbour for the troop ships’ return wailing “Where’s our bonny brave boy?”
as if they were all descendants of Robert Burns or Highlanders suddenly
transported to California. By the time the listener arrives at his maudlin
rendition of Andy M. Stewart’s originally bouncy Take Her in Your Arms
despair has fully set in. Still, there remains the chance to dredge the depths
of insipidity in Rick’s version of Outlandish Knight, apparently
‘inspired by Danú’ (I’d suggest that the band should urgently seek legal
advice). If your endurance is strong enough to reach the dismal Queen Anne’s
Lace (‘The stars are like diamonds on her dress of Time’), then extracting
your own entrails with a blunt steak knife, gently frying them in garlic and
serving them up on a bed of saffron rice while bleeding to death on the kitchen
floor does really seem like a more pleasant option.
If
all this was not irksome enough, then the instrumental tracks, featuring
Stanley’s harp, the cello of Robin Pfoutz and, on occasion, producer Tim
Britton’s flute and whistle, are firmly set in that part of the musical
landscape known as Celtic Tweedom (and don’t blame me for using the blasted ‘C’
word as it is used on the liner’s cover, though what defines a ‘contemporary’
Celtic song is utterly beyond my comprehension). Their versions of Carolan
tunes and others, such as Morrison’s Jig, are reminiscent of a bedroom
in an awesomely chintzy B&B this reviewer once occupied in Glenties where
all the furnishings were pink (including a nauseous pink satin bedspread), the
walls were painted pink and there was even a pink knitted poodle dog covering
the spare (and, naturally, pink) roll of toilet paper in the bathroom.
There
is no doubting that Rick, Robin and Tim are all able musicians, but, forgetting
the excruciating songs, Bonny Brave Boys is duller than a dull night in
Dullsville. The PR flyer includes a photograph of the band’s new line-up which
now includes one Marie Stanley on percussion (so they are now a trio, if this
was not previously apparent). Any suggestion that she might add life to the
band should be promptly rejected on the grounds that the picture intimates that
its photographer told Marie to “beat the hell out of the bodhrán or the fluffy
little kitten gets the bullet” such is the grim and contorted expression on her
face as she hammers the drum. Meanwhile, Rick dangles himself around Robin’s
cello while appearing to be fondling his own genitals and, by his own tortured
expression, does not appear to be enjoying the experience.
Don’t
be tempted to buy this album even for someone you loathe with an intensity
bordering on the murderous!
Geoff
Wallis
13th
October, 2004
Details of
the availability of this album could be provided, but isn’t there enough
suffering in the world already?