The Skagen Festival, Skagen, Denmark, 27-30 June 2002.
Skagen is a town in the far north of Denmark, in fact as far north you
can go in that country, situated at the top of the Danish peninsula Jutland,
where two seas, the Skagerack and the Kattegat, meet. Skagen is a popular
holiday resort for the people of south-west Scandinavia, and many come here
regularly by car or yacht to sense the beauty and the hospitality. During
the 19th century the town was very popular with artist, and quite a few settled
here. Many of their paintings are exhibited in the local
gallery, amust for every visitor.
On the last weekend in June every year Skagen hosts an international music
festival with a folky direction. Fairport Convention, the Dubliners and
Runrig have played the festival in recent years.
The festival is a spread-out affair with four stages, The South
Stage and The Meeting Place are situated at the festival camp about four
kilometres south of Skagen, The Big Stage is in a sports hall in south Skagen
and The Harbour Stage -- well, you can figure that one out, can't you? The
various locations and the fact that there are no all-festival tickets (you
buy for individual concerts with some events free of charge) makes it slightly
difficult to get an overall picture of the event. From what we saw, many
visitors to Skagen were not even aware of the fact that there was a festival
going on.
The hierarchy among groups and musicians is clearly spelt out in the programme.
The big names play The South and The Big Stages in the evening, with ticket
prices in the region of $25 a night. The unknowns play at The Meeting Place
and the Harbour Stage in the afternoons, with no entrance fee at all. Those
in-between guests play the same stages in the evenings, when you pay about
$5 to get in.
During my family's four days in Skagen we only tasted a small sample of
the music on offer since we also did some travelling around to experience
the wonderful north Jutland scenery. Our main intent when it came to the festival
was to look for English, Irish and Scottish music, of which there was a lot.
We missed groups like De Dannan, Beggars Row and Shave the Monkey because
of collisions with other groups we wanted to see (and let's not forget the
Soccer World Cup final). But here is a little about the groups and performers
we caught (with a few we thought too amateurish left out).
Coinneach is a Scottish four-piece with three CDs to their name.
Most of their songs are written by singer and guitarist Davy Cowan. They are
good craftsmen, producing a very full sound and rocking quite well. But to
me they raise a few questions: What is folk or roots music? What distinguishes
it from other genres? (And do we really need those borders?) To me, Coinneach
comes across more like a rock group with a singer dressed in kilt and a
fiddler than anything remotely folk or roots. Nowhere do you sense their
roots. Sure they say their song are about Scotland, but if you did not know
you would hardly guess it. Instead you get too often repeated chord sequences
from the 1960s with the attitude of the punk rockers from the 1970s. Maybe
they were aiming for the very big rock festival in
Roskilde, Denmark that weekend but did not make it.
Friday lunchtime brought sunshine to the Harbour Scene, and you could sit
outside the big tent, enjoying the music from inside and admiring all the
luxurious yachts on display in the harbour.
The three groups we listened to raised another question: If you are playing
roots music, is it OK to adopt other people's roots? Irish and Scottish
music seem to have gained world domination when it comes to folk and roots.
There are groups playing it everywhere, no matter where the people in the
groups originate from.
The members of Rolling Home are from the Netherlands, calling themselves
a Folk and Shanty choir. This day there were about 30 of them, all but one
men in their 40s, 50s and 60s, and a young girl on flute, to help the guitars
and accordions along. Most of the songs are familiar, like "The Irish Rover",
"The Leaving of Liverpool" (a song performed by many groups over the four
days) and "Ye Jacobites by Name". Despite the horrors of amplifying choirs
they came across quite well and were a pleasant start to the day.
Then came my really big discovery of the weekend, Flax in Bloom,
four rather young (to me anyway, but I'm soon leaving my 40s) musicians from
Copenhagen. They play pure Irish music, with no rock intentions at all, just
plain folk music as it has been performed for centuries. But they do it ever
so well. Their two front instrumentalists, Tim Goddard (flute and whistle)
and Ditte Fromseier Mortensen (fiddle), produce slip jigs, reels and mazurkas
quite effortlessly, backed by very talented guitarist Rasmus Zeeberg and Sussie
B Nielsen on bodhran -- and they sing as well. Goddard is the soloist on
a few songs, but though he does it very well, it was
the voice of Nielsen that melted my heart. Her renditions of "I Wish" and
various Gaelic songs were quite breathtaking; she had a voice to fall in
love with. According to their web page there is talk of an album somewhere
in the not too distant future, something to wait for in anticipation.
Waxie's Dargle are Danish as well, a three piece with a strange
instrumentation; guitar/banjo/vocals, violin and drums/backing vocals. There
was no bass, and the drummer only had a bass drum, a snare and a high hat.
They played a very energetic set, clearly inspired by the Pogues, and in
small doses they are very enjoyable, but an hour in a concert setting was
a little too much. But I really liked their slowed down version of "Johnny
I Hardly Knew Ye". More of that, please.
In the evening Kieran Halpin played the Harbour Stage. The set raised
further questions: Why do people pay the entrance fee to listen to someone
when they clearly seem to have no interest at all in the music performed?
Why don't they go to a pub with a jukebox instead?
My wife and I really tried to catch the tunes and the lyrics, but the noise
level from some of the audience was just unbearable. Afterwards we bought
a CD from Mr Halpin to enjoy without a wall of murmur and chatter between
him and us. What a pity for such a great singer, guitar player and song
writer, he deserves a listening audience.
We arrived at the festival camp late afternoon on the Saturday to get prepared
for the evening's big concert. As a warm up we went to the Meeting Place
and listened to The Boys of Bluehill. They are anything but purists.
With bass, acoustic guitar, banjo, according, the occasional fiddle and
four strong voices they served us a string of classic folk songs (like "The
Wild Rover," "Whiskey in the Jar" and so on) with a few country ones thrown
in for good measure in a bluegrassy way, introducing John Fogerty's "Lodi"
as a Californian folk song.
My son summed it up: "In my mind they are not a real group, just four middle-aged
men enjoying themselves thoroughly." Their enthusiasm clearly spilled over
to the audience. I would not buy a CD by them, but I would not mind listening
to them again in a pub or at a festival.
In the programme it said: "Come early to secure a seat". But when we entered
the huge tent holding 3,100 standing people that is the South Stage there
were no seats, just a lawn to sit on. Wiser fools than us had brought their
own chairs, though.
Jackie McAuley, an Irishman with a past in the legendary Them
, started with a few songs alone on his guitar. Then he brought on his band
Poormouth; drums (Clive Bunker, ex-Jethro Tull), violin, bass
and keyboards/pipes/mandolin. They mixed McAuley's own songs with very heavy
version of jigs and reels. They really rocked in an Irish folk-rocky way,
but when McAuley switched to electric guitar at the end they sounded more
like a pale Belfastian version of Mr. Springsteen and his band. But the first
two thirds of their set was very good, though at times a little underrehearsed,
with the interplay between drums and bass not always working very well.
Then it was time for the Donnie Munro Band, the very reason we had
decided to visit the festival, so do not expect me to be unbiased!
Munro has been to Skagen a few times before as a member of Runrig
. The extent of Runrig's popularity in Denmark can be measured by
the fact that I found three Danish various artists' budget priced CDs in the
local post office sporting tracks by the group.
Munro's band is set up much the way Runrig is. At the back there
is a drummer and a keyboard player, but no percussionist. At the front we
have Munro on guitar and vocals, two electric guitars (instead of Runrig's
one), a bass player singing backing vocals and ex-Runrig producer Chris Harley
on backing vocals and tambourine. Harley was a revelation for me. He is a
very good singer; when he and Munro sing together you have as powerful a vocal
front as any band in the world. And his tambourine playing is something else.
I have often discarded the tambourine as something for singers to hold
in their hand in order to feel a little more part of the band
during solos and instrumentals, but Harley really plays the instrument.
They gave us a fair selection from Munro's new excellent album, "Across
the City and the World", a few from his first, "On the West Side," and then
of course a handful of old Runrig chestnuts. Munro makes no excuse to sing
songs recorded by his old band. Instead he celebrates the songwriting of the
MacDonald brothers.
Munro himself is always at the centre of the proceedings. No matter how
good his band is, and believe me, there are few bands in the world today that
can equal them, you know it is his show. He has such a charisma and an ability
to make the in-between-songs talk meaningful.
And what a show it was! An hour and a half of good songs, perfectly
played with two superb vocalists at the front. Rock, folk rock, folk, roots,
whatever -- it was just great.
Oyster Band had a hard task following Runrig. To many they
succeeded, but not in my book. The Oysters have found their niche in the world
of music, with a mix of folk and punk, with their bass player sometimes playing
the cello, and the fiddle and the melodeon part of a Phil Spectorish wall
of sound. They pay a great deal of their attention to the lyrics, but this
evening most of them got lost as the sound man clearly had problems during
the first five or six songs.
Maybe I suffered from not having listened to many of their latest albums
because the absolute majority of the audience loved them.
We took some time off for good behaviour on the Sunday, watching the World
Cup Finals and only turning up for a few groups performances. We saw a third
of the set from Ribe Spelmanslag, a congregation of fiddlers, accordionists
and other assorted musicians from Juteland. Twenty head strong they performed
true Danish folk music in a truly catchy way. We would have loved to stay,
but after twenty minutes an official of the festival went round selling
tickets for the fish buffet, telling everyone
that only those with buffet tickets would be allowed to stay. With a wife
allergic to fish we had little choice but to leave, a great pity because
we really enjoyed it.
In the afternoon we went out to the Meeting Place once more to check my
impression of Flax in Bloom. I was convinced it was right. They are
a lovely outfit. And second time around I realised how crucial the guitar
is to their sound.
And that is it. This is just a small sample of what went on, with
me missing far more groups than I caught, but that is life. On the positive
side there was some very good music, with a large selection to choose from.
But also there was a lot lacking in information [about the groups] and too
many people drinking too much and talking through performances in a way
that spoiled the pleasure for others. I would not mind going again, but
I would do it to catch certain performers more than for the festival itself.
[Lars Nilsson ]