So much so has the Thirty Pounds of Bone debut album, ‘The Homesick Children of Migrant Mothers’, never been off my stereo it’s hard to believe it’s been three years since it was cast onto these shores. Sailing gleefully under the radar with lovelorn tales of arson, kidney failure and whiskey skulduggery it unearthed a treasure of a songwriter in multi-instrumentalist, Johny Lamb.
Having seemingly been lost at sea for the last few years the Thirty Pounds of Bone ship has resurfaced with a handful of sea shanties in tow. ‘The Jonah Shanty’ begins the proceedings in the saddest of fashions, with Lamb singing more beautifully than ever, “everyone I loved was taking by the portside, I’ll never love again”, with unsullied harmonies from seamen Sally Megee.
The sorrow soon turns into hope with ‘Oh! To Be Ashore’ where Lamb begins to get his priorities sorted, “Hope lies when the pub’s still open”. Yet we all know after such merriment that there has to be a come down, and with some devastatingly beautiful fiddle playing courtesy of Gris Sanderson, ‘Shallow Brown’ is the most delightful centrepiece. A traditional song arranged by Lamb it makes no excuses for its woozy flow and gentle pace, like a drunk staggering home at 4am and falling asleep on the steps outside.
‘Capstan Dance’ is the sound of the sun coming up, and that same drunk opening his eyes, steadying himself, gathering his thoughts and beginning a new day and another journey. Which takes us to ‘The Farewell Shanty’ where Lamb can be found “hauling away his anchor” and heading back out into a sea of obscurity where I’m sure he’s most content. Let’s hope he returns to shore sooner rather than later clutching another barrel of timeless folk laments.