Dedication to tradition is tricky business. On one hand, adhering to existing norms carries on the legacy. On the other end, can this result in something novel? Folk music is, by definition, rooted in tradition. And while many have pushed its boundaries, they are instead labeled as experimentalists or neofolk. From the early works of Comus to the feverish interpretations of Current 93, all the way to the ceremonial dedication of Menace Ruine, anyone who pushed the boundary is considered an outsider.
But, how about Lankum? The Irish act laid down its foundations deep with the Celtic folk sound, celebrating their native tradition through renditions of cheery street songs or heartbreaking ballads. Yet, there was always a forward-thinking approach that infected this point of view. So, after two excellent works in Between The Earth and Sky and The Livelong Day, they make a glorious return with False Lankum. And from the very start, it feels like this work is special, as the beautiful a capella performance of Radie Peat comes in with “Go Dig My Grave.” The opening track sets the tone, establishing the connection to the past and still offering an off-kilter examination. While retaining the folk instrumentation and character, Lankum descends into an unconventional rendition. In a way, it is a performance that mirrors the delirious executions of no-wave heroes, such as Swans. And yet, it is still a folk song.
The love that Lankum display towards this foundation is uncanny. The accordion recital in “Master Crowley’s” seemingly echoes through long-gone eras. Still, within this motif Lankum perform a brave descent into an abstract domain, deconstructing the folk tune to a bizarro Mario Batkovic-like domain. The alterations between tradition and experimentation are exquisite, balancing the bounce and cheer with obscure motifs and dark intentions. The percussive elements here are key in crafting this tribalistic perspective, and the resulting momentum is exhilarating. But, this is only one facade of folk music, and Lankum are courageous enough to explore multiple aspects of the genre.
The delicate side of “Newcastle” sees Lankum open up to this subtle aspect, as acoustic guitar and vocals stand alone. It is the very definition of “less is more,” and, it carries on beautifully with “Netta Perseus,” driving further this understated sense of beauty. The doses of melancholy keep coming, as “Lore Abore and Mary Flynn” come and the minimalistic “On A Monday Morning.” All these moments are etudes in simplicity and elegance. They showcase how far one can travel with very little means. At times, it is just an acoustic guitar, sparse percussion and vocals, and still what these can be built is monumental. But, there is one quality that makes False Lankum transcend.
What is pivotal about this record is the sense of tension that can build. The opening track reveals this in abundance, as the sorrowful performance and raving recitals give way to this intense perspective. It is an ominous and brutal approach, an imaginary string being stretched to impossible lengths, the same way that Lankum attempt to stretch the listener’s mind. It is also present in “Netta Perseus,” this time around bringing to mind fellow contemporaries like Anna von Hausswolf. Even meaner and more foreboding is the deconstructed approach in the record’s closer “The Turn,” as the entire foundation dwindles under Lankum’s immense pressure.
Lankum manages to produce a transcendental work, and one that defies categorizations. In some ways, it is a dichotomy as simple as in “The New York Trader.” The track follows an exuberant and direct approach, but as it does it still narrates tales of jealousy that lead to the murder of the narrator’s wife and children. The sceneries too depict the tumultuous and contradictory nature of False Lankum. Traveling through the desert-like landscapes of “Clear Away In The Morning” to the altered dreamscapes of “Lord Abore and Mary Flean” or “Newcastle.” And still, under all its layers of experimentalism and daring change, False Lankum is undeniably a folk record. Or rather, it is a great folk record.
