Lindisfarne - Nicely Out of Tune (1970)

Lindisfarne is one of the great lost treasures of British rock and roll.  The Newcastle quintet - they took their name from an island with a monastery, situated off the east coast of England - were among a variety of rock bands from the United Kingdom in the late sixties and early seventies rooted in English folk, including Fairport Convention, Steeleye Span, the Pentangle, and the only such band to make it big in the United States, Jethro Tull. The incorporation of the traditional music of the British Isles into a rock context produced some exciting and sometimes harrowing music that projected a heightened sense of mysticism, the sort of mysticism that could only come from a folk tradition of hobgoblins, pixies and trolls lurking in the green misty landscape of Britain. But each of these bands put their own contemporary spin on tradition, and Lindisfarne were no exception.

The original Lindisfarne - guitarist/vocalist Alan Hull, mandolinists/vocalists Ray Jackson and Simon Cowe, bassist Rod Clements, and drummer Ray Laidlaw - were surprisingly mainstream in their approach to British folk rock.  They incorporated immaculately arranged harmonies and an idiosyncratic sense of humor with a straightforward rock sound that suggested an American West Coast influence as well, which set them apart from their peers. Though anointed as a seventies Beatles by the U.K. rock press, their sound had more in common with Crosby, Stills and Nash; in fact, had David Crosby and Stephen Stills come from northern England, like Nash (who came from Manchester), Lindisfarne is what that trio might have sounded like.

Their debut album, Nicely Out of Tune, is a strong effort that goes beyond the haunting ballads associated with British musical tradition.  While there is some of that, to be sure, the music is generally upbeat and  engaging, with crisp acoustic guitars augmented by the rhythms of Clements' subtle bass lines and Laidlaw's dry, steady drumming.  As the band's principal songwriter, Hull could be direct even with the most esoteric lyrics, and his earnest vocals complement the honesty of his lyrics and Ray Jackson's own urgent, unencumbered voice.  There are some wonderful moments here; punchy rhythms delivered by steady  guitar and fiddle performances propel "Road To Kingdom Come," a Clements song, but the tale is of an outcast doomed to perdition.  The muted bass and drums and the almost somber melody on "Clear White Light (Part Two)" are overwhelmed by gorgeous harmonies with a positive message of guidance.

Much of Nicely Out of Tune shows an irreverent side to Lindisfarne's music, offering up a drunken sing-along such as "We Can Swing Together" (about an actual drug-related police raid the band was involved in), as well as "Alan In the River With Flowers," a cheeky parody of the Beatles' "Lucy In the Sky With Diamonds" that mocks hippie self-consciousness.  But their respect for the folk tradition comes through as well, and not just in the rollicking, fast take on Woody Guthrie's "Jackhammer Blues." Nicely Out of Tune's opening cut, "Lady Eleanor," is a macabre tale of a fatal attraction driven by a bewitching mandolin and by harmony vocals that sound almost desperate; caught in Eleanor's grasp, the narrator is resigned to an unholy fate with a sense of irony ("I'm all right where I am"). "Winter Song" finds Alan Hull alone with his guitar contemplating the poor and the destitute caught in the season's unforgiving weather, and he even questions the comforts and warmth of Christmas while asking the listeners to remember Jesus and his own compassion for the poor.  The varied emotions and musings on Lindisfarne's debut album, delivered with understated music, put the band in a place of their own not just in British folk rock, but British rock in general.