Formed, appropriately enough, on the 18th May 2003, THE EIGHTEENTH OF MAY allegedly joined creative forces on a rooftop high above the East London landscape. Whether that's the truth or simply romance probably doesn't matter, but it's a good story and something for amusing conjecture. More importantly, despite the locale, the East End urchin rock scene so beloved of the NME plays absolutely no part whatsoever in this sextet's story, so you can knock that line of thinking on the head straight away.
Indeed, the only similarity The Eighteenth Day Of May share with said urchin scene is Peter Doherty's occasionally-voiced love of the likes of Bert Jansch (the 18th cover Jansch's "Deed I Do" with aplomb here) and an apparently similar fondness for a quirky Albion of times long since past.
Which isn't to say the 18th's love of '60s folk and folk-rock staples (think Martin Carthy, Shirley Collins, Fairport Convention circa "Liege And Lief") means they sound even remotely irrelevant. Indeed, comprising Allison Brice (vocals, flute, dulcimer, born in New Orleans) Richard Olson (guitars, sitar, vocals, born in Sweden), Ben Phillipson (guitars, mandolin, vocals, born in Oxford), viola player Alison Cotton (ex-Saloon) and rhythm section Mark Nicholas and Karl Sabino (ex-acid-folkers Of Arrowe Hill), they are a cosmopolitan bunch who drag a pastoral undertow in their wake, but have a few psych-rock trump cards up their paisley sleeves as well.
Indeed, opener "Eighteen Days" makes it abundantly clear that however pastoral and bucolic the band's sound may be, it's hardly the soundtrack to mayploes and morris dancers either. Caressed by Brice's lovely, clear voice, it's driven by Nicholas's snaking bassline, Phillipson and Olson's mesh of guitars and finds unlikely instruments such as flute, sitar and autoharp entering the fray. Indeed, by the time it hits the fade, it's got more than a touch of the exotic "Their Satanic Majesties" about it. And that's not a bad thing at all.
So colour me impressed, and songs like "Sir Casey Jones" and "The Highest Tree" continue to intrigue. The former is a folksy stomp that brings the Fairports whizzing to mind, though while the ghost of Sandy Denny also hovers over "The Highest Tree", there are some exquisite, chiming West Coast guitars in there too and Alison Cotton's viola raises its' pretty head for the first crucial time.
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Despite its' title, the instrumental "Twig Folly Close" (complete with zither-like autoharp, dulcimer and bells) is actually an original track writen by guitarist Ben Phillipson, but the 18th fare equally well when traversing the Trad.Arr highway. "Lady Margaret" is something of an epic, skirting the seven-minute mark and instils mediaeval folk with a modern-day rhythm section drive, though it's "Flowers Of The Forest" which is especially notable, coming across like Shack dipping into the Watersons formidable catalogue with added flute. And yes, that may sound terrifically unlikely, but it's tremendous all the same.
They clearly have the ability to rock, too, as "Cold Early Morning" makes clear, with its' very immediate, Richard Thompson-style guitar hook, plaintive Brice vocal and fluid solo from Phillipson. The band's liking for kaleidoscopic psychedelia finally rises to the surface with the weird backwards masking of the short, closing "The Mandrake Screams", but regardless of the tongue-in-cheek aspect of this track, there IS an inherent trippiness to the 18th's music which suggests they will keep us on our toes in the future when we try to shove them into that convenient folk-rock bracket.
This eponymous debut is an intriguing record which isn't afraid to indulge in a little worthwhile stylistic cross-pollination without sacrificing the needs of its' particular songs. The Eighteenth Day Of May previously only referred to the death of Ian Curtis in this writer's rock'n'roll diary, but from now on that day has a second notable calendar entry.
(www.theeighteenthofmay.com)
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