The Demon Barbers, Uncut (DJC Records, 2002)

If your name was Damien Barber and you formed a group, you'd want to call it The Demon Barbers, wouldn't you? Damien last appeared in the pages of Green Man with a CD entitled Boxed, made during his brief sojourn in Ireland. Since then the prodigal has returned to his native England, eager to consume the fatted calf, and skewer a few sacred cows into the bargain. While his forays into Celtic music were well above average, there was never any real doubt as to where his real roots lay.

Damien, you see, has an East Anglian accent as wide as the Norfolk Broads, which gives him a singing voice as instantly identifiable and idiosyncratic as Iris De Ment or Salif Keita. His phrasing and natural vibrato only emphasise the sensation that you're listening to something strange, exotic and uncompromising, not adjectives usually attached to English folk singers, but very welcome nonetheless.

The Demon Barbers are, to paraphrase Robbie Robertson's description of The Hawks, "a crackerjack band." Damien has emerged as an inventive, driving guitar player who also plays a mean concertina. Bryony Griffith (fiddle, backing vocals) and Will Hampson (melodeon) were recruited from the excellent English dance band Bedlam and provide plenty of folk "muscle." The line up is completed by Lee Sykes (bass guitar) and Rich Ashby (drums), two gentlemen fluent in the rhythmic arts of rock, reggae and hip-hop.

The CD was recorded "live" in Haworth Parish Hall on 26th and 27th April. While this makes for a decidedly "lo-fi" production, this is music that relies on immediacy and sheer verve for it's impact. Damien and his cohorts credit the "source" performer of all the songs and tunes here, with the names Peter Bellamy and Walter Pardon prominent. Barber's not only returning to English music with a vengeance, but staking his claim to a place in the pantheon of Norfolk singers through his interpretations of songs like "Van Diemans Land," and "Way Down Town." Elsewhere, Nic Jones' "Ruins by the Shore," and Pete Morton's oddly titled "One Thing Better Than Sex," get the full "Demon" treatment, while "Katy Cruel" (on loan from Cordelia's Dad) throws up a useful comparator of the Barbers' stylistic influences.

It's all exciting, innovative stuff, with the palpable sense of "urgency" only occasionally crossing the line into "frantic." Bellamy's "Sir Richard's Song," is, to my ears, sold slightly short by the busy arrangement, especially in comparison to James Fagan's more measured reading on Steely Water. However, a reviewer in UK folk magazine "The Living Tradition" memorably praised Nancy Kerr & James Fagan for their "no pissy messing about" approach to English folk song, and it's a phrase that's equally applicable to The Demon Barbers.

This CD should, perhaps, be viewed as a "calling card" for what the band do live, as much as a very fine album in it's own right. I was fortunate enough to witness the Demon Barbers on a Festival stage last year, where they were joined by some absolutely sensational dancers throughout the performance. Young women North-West clog dancers battering the floor in unison, young men performing backwards somersaults over rapper swords, Morris dancing presented as something vibrant and athletic - there's something going on here, and The Demon Barbers are right at the forefront of it. This is traditional music (with impeccably authentic credentials) driven by a rhythm section that offers something much younger and sexier than dear old "folk rock," a definite case of "dig the new breed."

With another year under their belts, the Demon Barbers are all set for another "Festival Season." What with the return of Nancy & James from Australia, Eliza Carthy touring her widely acclaimed Anglicana album and the continuing emergence of John Spires and Jon Boden this could well prove to be a watershed year for English folk with "attitude." Like the man said: "Oh, to be in England, now that summer's here."