 Reprobate: verb - to contradict the evidence of a witness; to challenge a verdict as against evidence: a legal term (The Concise Scots Dictionary, Warrack, 1911). Origin Late Middle English (as a verb): from Latin reprobat - ' (he/she disapproved'), from the infinitive reprobare, from re- (expressing reversal) + probare 'approve.' The present Oxford Dictionary, whilst correctly citing the origins, limits definitions to those tagged with 'archaic (esp. in Calvinism),' all of which are disparaging nouns and adjectives. The implications of the clever subterfuge of, and perversion of, meaning by a 'vested interest' with 'all the answers' and, how willingly vested interest is accepted should be chilling. This album champions the Scottish legal definition - and liberty!
Unfortunately, music, like everything else, comes up against the human penchant for categorising things and we are left with neat labels such as 'Classical', 'Folk', 'Traditional', etc. and then we screen these categories with the limiting filters of nationalism, regionalism, political ethic, 'established academic judgments' - in short, post-enlightenment notions that reek of 'vested interest.' These human 'screening' functions are individuating and gift us with identity. They also engender divisiveness, narrow-mindedness and chauvinism. Music, though, has always had a way of defying these neat, all-too-human, considerations. It has a way of being very cosmopolitan, moving and fun. It has always evolved to meet social criteria and will continue to do so. The field of 'traditional' music is especially gifted with silly turmoil - whether it is Scottish, Irish, 'Bluegrass' or whatever. Furthermore, problems erupt about the question of 'What are 'traditional' instruments'? That is an easy question to answer but most people do not have the guts to do it. A 'traditional instrument' has been, historically, whatever a musician could make or afford to buy that expressed his art in the context of his culture. If we define 'traditional' music on the basis of instruments and set, say, a cut-off date contingent on the industrial revolution, we would have to dispense with the whole family of accordion-type instruments and our present, precious icon, the guitar, wouldn't we? By the same token, if we were to eliminate 'Italianate' influence from what we are trying to choke our definition of 'traditional music' with - we'd have to get rid of the violin, would we not? This album is pretty much Scottish and English and most of the instruments are 'traditional' in one sense or another - but everything we have done has been an attempt to help people recognise that there was an age of music that pre-dated all of the 'filters' and that that age has not ended, despite them. Music used to be simply that - music. It still is. It was (if a distinction is needed) religious or secular. It still is. It was created either for dancing or for listening. It still is (although, lately, we might add that it is for 'watching,' also). 'Reprobate' is an attempt to demonstrate a simple truth. Tunes and songs have their genesis in the human mind and soul. The process of creating these tunes and songs has had the distinction of being recognised as an uplifting phenomenon - for both creator and audience. The creators have ranged from anonymous monks to utter servants to agricultural workers to over-hyped media heroes and they all have credited some unexplainable authority - a 'muse,' inspiration, insight, satirical wit, reaction to disaster, drugs, and religious inspiration. Oddly, long after the creators are veritable mold, the songs and tunes survive with a resilient life of their own. Our album, hopefully, demonstrates this. We showcase songs written centuries ago that had their tunes, perhaps, appropriated and altered to suit a contemporary dance form - only to be twisted again into songs with lyrics about any human situation that can be imagined. The musical pieces move from the Travelers' bow tents to the music hall and back; from a king's chamber to a wheat field and back; from the deck of a ship to a lumber camp; from a mining disaster to radio to living room and, from there, to a music festival. We receive these pieces of music as constantly reborn gifts. Some of us add new material or a new interpretation to the comprehensive collection and it all gets periodically re-evaluated and re-invented by personal artistry and social criteria (feedback, if you will). We turn songs into dance tunes; we use dance tunes to create songs or perhaps, symphonies. We twist music on the rack of transcribing its message from one instrument to another - which can alter it a great deal. We use jigs for the singing of psalms and convert symphonic pieces into love songs dripping with lust - and, despite our fanciful mutations, we remain, somehow, embedded in our tradition, our prejudices, our flights of fancy and invention - our 'identity.' The social criteria - the 'audience' will always further alter and re-enforce these considerations. In the end, the music survives all of us. We hope that this album will give you some insight into that survivability and how we humans fit into the picture. We sing and play for audiences living and dead - we celebrate the present and past. We make political, social and emotional statements with music. These considerations are all products of our time and our temperamental makeup. This album digitally hurls our interpretations into another segment of eternity where the music is on its own again - free in a living tradition that we were a temporary and minute part of. You, the listener, are part of that process if you simply listen to and/or react to the music. Some of you may re-interpret the music by copying our interpretation or by disliking how we did something so much that you will create a new interpretation. Either way, you are 'in the tradition.' The music will survive you, too! As somebody once said, 'The Sangs the Thing!' Slainte Mhath! Wayne, Jeannie and Ginger |