‘Country girl / Take my hand / Lead me through / This diseased land / I am tired, I am weak, I am worn’
A song for our times – or, perhaps, for the times still yet to come; for the post-pandemic. 2021 has seen a few good tunes so far, but I heard this cover of the Primal Scream original on the joyfully-bearded Huw Stephens show, stepping in these last two weeks for the holidaying Marc Riley’s evening slot on 6Music (@11:20). It crouched, but gathered, and then just leapt at me across the airwaves accompanied by an ecstatic, celebratory, life-affirming roar.
Recovering, I dived straight for Jessie’s Bandcamp to grab a copy; but there was no artist page, so I turned next to Wikipedia which told me she’s not actually ‘a singer’ at all (which would explain the lack of a Bandcamp…), rather an actress (and with a fair amount of pedigree in TV roles) who also sings quite a bit in her acting roles. Anyway, enough of the labelling. Buckley took the title role in 2019’s BAFTA-nominated Wild Rose, from where ‘Country Girl’ comes, which is something of a paean to Glasgow and in which she plays the role of Rose-Lynne Harlan (a country name if ever I heard one), a young, somewhat troubled, working class woman trying to get to Nashville to pursue her singing dreams. Not being much* of a TV viewer and without regular access to cinema (pace the Screen Machine), the film (like the rest of Buckley’s substantial credits) has rather passed me by up to this point (though I will try and see Wild Rose now, in some sort of format, it not yet being available on the Screen Machine’s small screen offer). It was well-reviewed and there was a good amount of noise about Buckley herself in the film’s release publicity rounds, but I did take an even stronger interest when I read the plot on the Wikipedia page on the film, which includes a description of our Rose-Lynn going to Nashville where she sneaks on stage at the historic Ryman Auditorium during a backstage tour.
(Dear Reader: now, that struck something of a recollection in me since I also did exactly this (in my younger days, obvs). Only I sneaked into the Ryman building, in May 1989, underneath some scaffolding and through an open backstage door, very early on in some substantial reconstruction works going on there ahead of it becoming again a venue, which would take five years to complete, before hitching myself to what I fortuitously quickly realised was some sort of guided tour already going on right there in front of me and which included ascending up there, on that famous, enormous arc of a stage. Unlike Rose-Lynn, I didn’t sing (well, it wasn’t empty). I just looked out at those seats – the same view that Hank Williams would have had – took in the completely dishevelled and inevitably dusty atmosphere, wondered about how easily it would have legendarily reached 120F up there on the stage when it was packed on a hot summer’s night in the South, and posed a wee bit. And imagined. God, yes! Can’t say that I met Hank himself, though.)
Back to the present day, and here is Jessie Buckley with ‘Country Girl’, as seen on Wild Rose:
It’s great to see a woman sing this song, which gives the lyrics an extra dimension, and also reclaim aspects of the video filmed for the original, which left me uncomfortable (while at the same time also paying a kind of homage to it). It’s also worth checking out some of Jessie’s other songs from the film, such as ‘Born To Run‘ (no, not that one – Ed.) – she has a belter of a voice both for stompers like ‘Country Girl’ and crooners alike. And it looks as though they had great fun filming it, which is also likely to help the dynamism of any film in which you have to believe the essential realism of the world the characters inhabit.
Jessie’s backing band features Aly Bain and Phil Cunningham, also of this parish, as well as Neil MacColl, and you have to have a fair amount of chops yourself to be fronting up a band with them supplying the backing. Better still, it puts the mandolin – one of the best things about the original – closer to the front and adds some down-home fiddle. The layering and increasing stridency as the song builds its power, highlighting in the film the singer’s consideration and then definitive rejection of the internal doubts running through her (a crisis of self-doubt being something all too familiar to working class women), is a sign of great confidence not only in the material but also in the singer’s own abilities. And, if all that’s indeed your thing, and so it oughta be, I think, the Wild Rose soundtrack is out on Island Records.
TotW – Track of the Week. Likely to be an irregular, and probably not at all weekly, series of posts about new (or new to me) songs that have left me all shook up. Uh-huh-huh.