FFWD Weekly
Copyright © 1997. All Rights Reserved.



A Music Snob by Any Other Name
Martin Simpson aspires to his own high musical standards
By Martin Kemp

Martin Simpson
at the Engineered Air Theatre
Thursday, March 27

The parting words of Martin Simpson as we wrap up our epic interview:

"Well, don't make me sound too obnoxious."

This from a guy who just moments before didn't hesitate to admit that yes, he might just be a "music snob."

A man with many theories on good and bad music, Simpson learned the banjo and guitar in his native England when he was 12. After working with such musical icons as Richard Thompson, Steeleye Span, June Tabor, Fairport Convention and the Albion Band, Simpson moved to the US with his wife, Jessica Ruby Simpson in the early '90s. Dividing his time between their Band of Angels project and his solo career, Simpson has been able to cover a vast range of musical territory. Influences that have been with him since childhood are still with him today. African-American and black influences from around the world mix freely with British, Irish and Scottish music to combine what Simpson sees as a brand of North American folk music.

Simpson has a crystal clear idea of what he likes musically and he has been able to translate this into his own recording and performance. And he also knows what he dislikes. Oh yes, Martin Simpson is very clear on what he doesn't like.

Having found himself focusing on the blues tradition in his solo work, Simpson contends that very few people really know how to play the blues in this day and age. "A lot of blues bands today just don't have a clue about anything but a heavily white influenced rock blues," he asserts. "I think one of the major problems is that (some) musicians only listen to each other. They're not listening to really great music. They're not listening to classic traditional music in any form and so you end up with a lot of very mediocre music."

Another problem, according to Simpson, is the sheer quantity of music that is regularly forced down our collective throats.

"If you look at what's promoted, most of the stuff that is shoved at you in high volume in order to sell is shite," he argues. Most commercial music, he continues, "is a bunch of people with testosterone poisoning, yelling about the fact that they've got testosterone poisoning."

Quick to point out the bad stuff, he can just as easily describe what makes great music. "I want to hear somebody who is an absolute master of an instrument, communicating deep, deep soulful music; that's what I aspire to," Simpson explains. "I'm not obnoxious about it, but when you've heard someone like Blind Willie Johnson playing 'Dark Was the Night and Cold the Ground,' 'Louie Louie' doesn't sound so good anymore."

His 1995 release Smoke and Mirrors is a tribute to the blues traditions that he has grown up with. And where so many musicians fail, he feels he has succeeded in releasing a good blues album, by both respecting the tradition and recognizing that songs can evolve.

"I have a healthy respect for tradition in all the different (blues) strands," states Simpson. "But tradition to me is something that is in a state of continual flux. It is always changing. If it doesn't, change it dies. We've seen that plenty of times."

He is currently wrapping up work on an instrumental album which explores Western European traditions and African and African American musical traditions, with the help of such musical giants as David Lindley, slide guitar wiz Kelly Joe Phelps and Madagascar's Tarika Sammy, showing that Simpson reaches far and wide when making his music.

Summing up his career, Simpson offers a few more parting words:

"You know what it is? I just care. I care about the music and I care about the standard of the quality that goes into what I do."

Fair enough.


Back To Main Contents
Back To This Issue Table of Contents