Blair Dunlop does determinism at Towersey

Sometimes Blair Dunlop, whose maturity shines through his music, betrays his extreme youth through his references. "Is anyone here doing philosophy A' level?" he asked the Big Club tent on day two of Towersey.

Someone in the audience made like a windmill, indicating that they definitely were.

"Hey! I did that course and I remember when we did determinism. I opened up the book and I couldn't believe my eyes: I'd believed in that philosophy since when I was a little kid and it used to make me feel really down. I was a strange child."

Determinism, if you recall, is the belief that everything that happens is the only possible thing that could happen, given all the circumstances that led to it. It leaves no space for free will and so, in a society that places a high value on freedom of expression, could very easily be depressing.

"I stuck my hand up in class and said 'Miss, miss. I invented that'," Dunlop recalled.

Provocative. I mean, it makes perfect sense that an intelligent child should feel this way: a "good" childhood in modern Britain is basically the condition of being subject to the will of a bunch of responsible adults and the knowledge that you have less freedom than them and that many of your basic decisions - what school you go to, for one - have been made for you can weigh very heavily. I remember.

It also made me wonder how Blair Dunlop - who by the time he took his A' levels had been in a film with Johnny Depp - could feel trapped in this way, and curious about how he thought, at the time, that his life was predetermined to turn out?

So I asked him.

"What it was, basically, was that I felt that my entire existence was being determined by a girl called Alice Whitehead," he explained.

Ah. That makes sense.

"I'm over that now."

* Blair Dunlop has a new album out on Rooksmere Records, called House of Jacks. It's really good.

* If you would like to read more about Blair Dunlop on this blog, you could try this, which is about his first album Blight & Blossom.

* If you would like to read more from Towersey 2014 there is this, about Lau, and this, which is about Dunlop's dad, Ashley Hutchings and the forthcoming documentary about folk legend Shirley Collins, who is his former wife. And there is this interview with Nancy Kerr, on the occasion of launching her debut solo album, kind of.

* If you'd like to receive posts from this blog directly into your Facebook newsfeed, you could *like* its Facebook page and then use the drop-down menu to indicate that it's one of your "interests". This will enhance the possibility that you'll get them. You could also follow me on Twitter at @emma1hartley

Ashley Hutchings on Blair Dunlop and the folk awards

It was definitely among the more pleasantly surprising lunch breaks I've had. After strolling around the beautiful new concourse of St Pancras for a few minutes admiring the apparent sense of purpose and self-defeatingly unwieldy luggage of those around me - why, why do people pack so much that they need their luggage to have wheels? -  I stopped to buy some lunch. And as I looked around after placing my order I realised that I recognised the person standing next to me.

"Excuse me. Is it Ashley Hutchings?"

He looked up in a friendly manner. We'd met before, once, at Cecil Sharp House, but I doubted he'd remember.

"It's Emma. Emma Hartley."

"Emma!"

And I got the best bear-hug I've ever had from someone I slightly knew.

I'd like to say that I've just got one of those faces, or that there's something about me that's supremely huggable. I was once in a room with Michael Palin, who was giving out some awards, and couldn't help noticing that anyone, men included, who got within five feet seemed to want to kiss him. Sadly that's not me - usually I fail to score hugs even when I'm hoping for them.

It was just that Ashley Hutchings was very pleased indeed about my review of his son, Blair Dunlop's, album.

I said no problem, I only wrote it because I meant it. And anyway Blair did all the hard work. We sat down to eat lunch.

That part was slightly awkward. "If I'd known I'd be sitting opposite someone else I wouldn't have ordered the burger," said Hutchings, looking at his food a little anxiously.

We exchanged pleasantries. He said something unusually nice about my blog, I asked what he was up to musically these days and he said that mainly he was thinking about Blair and his stuff and how proud he was about Blight & Blossom and the folk award nomination. It was the day after the nominations had been announced and Dunlop's up for the Horizon Award.

"Everyone's got a beef with the awards and mine is usually with the original song category," he said. "It's great about the Horizon award. But what I was secretly hoping for was an original song nomination for Blair."

"For which song?"

"Blight and Blossom."

Ah. My favourite is Bags Outside the Door. But I can see where Hutchings is coming from: the album's a treasure. Since Blair's only 20 one can afford to take the long view, though.

He talked about how exciting it had been to realise that his son was a real talent, about the encouragement he'd given him - "his mum wanted him to go to university but I said I thought he could do this, if he wanted to" - and about having to take a step back now. "Blair's got himself a proper manager. John Hart worked at Universal and has been in Edward II. But maybe I could still help manage him on a personal level - encourage him to get out of bed, that kind of thing." He also said that Blair was off to the US to make an album with Larkin Poe, adding that they were a little older than him and probably a good influence. Take a look at that video, it will break your heart for your own youth...

I asked if I could take a picture, to prove that this wasn't the latest of my fantasy folk awards posts. He said no problem and put his hat on specially...

... then took a snap of me in return with his pink iPhone (I should have asked him about the colour). I don't remember him eating his burger. But mine was delicious and I went back to the office in the winter sunshine with a spring in my step. I told the guy sitting next to me what had happened: it was his turn for a break. "Just off out for a snack with David Bowie," he said.

* Here's my review of Blair Dunlop's debut album Blight & Blossom, which it would be fair to say I  enjoyed.

* If you'd like to receive posts from this blog directly into your Facebook newsfeed, you could *like* its Facebook page and then use the drop-down menu to indicate that it's one of your "interests". This will enhance the possibility that you'll get them. You could also follow me on Twitter @emma1hartley

Blair Dunlop hits the open road

Blair Dunlop is quite a confusing proposition if you don't know anything about him. I'd been vaguely aware that he was on at Cropredy last year and what I heard seemed extremely competent - as you would expect from someone on a festival's only stage - but I was only half listening.

Then there's the fact that his website comes with a quote from Q magazine, which suggests that he's been around for a while - lots of bands would be delighted to have one of those, even though it's short. I also remember thinking that he was in a different league musically when I saw him do something assured alongside Ashley Hutchings at Cecil Sharp House last year but didn't realise he was Hutchings' son until some way through the set and, as a result, put that particular issue to one side.

However, since it's relevant now, here's what I think: you can't help who your family is. I've sort of followed in my father's footsteps - as has my sister - so I have some empathy. When you see people making a living doing something, it's easier to consider it for yourself than a trade of which you have no experience. Also, life has a way of telling you whether you're any good at what you do, which is a separate issue to why you started and - especially in a very competitive field - early advantages soon melt away. I'm going to shut up now.

Anyway, I had an idea that Dunlop was quite young - the elfin stature and hair gel issues gave it away - and associated him in an Americana-ey way with the wonderful ahab who I guess are hovering somewhere around their late twenties, early 30s. That was especially the case after listening to what is described on his website as Dunlop's "new" album a few times, with rising excitement.

So it came as a bit of a shock to realise that it is, in fact, his first album. And that he is only 20.

I say it was slightly shocking because Blight & Blossom would be an excellent record for someone who has ten years on Dunlop - for a first outing it is nothing short of miraculous.

OK, everything about the production values, from the mixing to the memorable cover art by Elly Lucas, speaks of a lifetime's experience - presumably not his - and the sleeve note thanking Richard Thompson personally for the dark, dark song Seven Brothers, as well as the picture of the two of them on Dunlop's website, well... I guess it would be worse to be ungrateful.

Yet there's so much here that can be nothing except Dunlop's that these trappings are as a beach hut to a tsunami.

Two major points.

Firstly, although there is a version of Black is the Colour on here, there is nothing niche about this album. Folk may be where his family comes from but it took me a while to realise that the open road, big sky feel to several of these tracks is not exactly Americana, although there's definitely a slide guitar on Less the Pawn. It is the sound of gilded youth and ambition in the 21st century, the noise that goes with having everything to play for and the wind in your hair. It's the sound of being young, Dunlop makes it resonate and it is, quite simply, thrilling.

Secondly, this is only possible because he is already an extremely accomplished guitarist. And because when you put this together with sinuous musicality, a precocious wisdom, lyrically speaking and some terrific arrangements, the result is an album that rings like a bell. With Blight & Blossom he seems to have made something true.

The standout tracks for me are Bags Outside the Door - a statement of intent par excellence - and Less the Pawn, which is a young man's song about a world that was already fucked up when he got here. But there's plenty more where that came from. The album as a whole is a grower and I predict that Blair Dunlop will go on to write some songs that will outlive him by a great many years, which seems like an odd thing to say at this early stage. But still...

* There are three more songs from the album on Soundcloud.

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