Andrew Rumsey – ‘The Old Boys’ from ‘Evensongs’

I am not certain why I did not include Andrew Rumsey’s ‘English Grounds: A Pastoral Journey’ in the 2022 Unpopular advent of books for I certainly enjoyed it a great deal. It is possible that I felt its blend of the religious and the pastoral seemed somewhat pale next to the work of Ronald Blythe, whose mighty prose it felt neighbour to. In all honesty, though, what wouldn’t?

‘English Grounds’ then is certainly a recommended read, but it is Rumsey’s musical collection ‘Evensongs’ that really hits the mark. At twenty six minutes in length it is, perhaps, the diametric opposite to yesterday’s advent entry of The Royal Ottawa’s ‘Carcosa’ and is suffused with a beautifully restrained English intimacy. Informed by the poetic mystical qualities of English folk music’s two great Nick’s (Drake and Talbot), the songs on ‘Evensong’ are beautiful vignettes that meditate on simple detail cloaking deep spiritual currents.

Recorded live in a single day at the All Saints church in the Wiltshire village of Ham, ‘Evensongs’ certainly captures “something of the magic of a country church in August – complete with bees, birdsong, and a whisper of wheezy organ” that was Rumsey’s intent, but it is also broad enough even within its small scope to avoid any of the potential pitfalls of being ‘conceptual’. Instead it comes across as entirely natural, a set of restrained, peaceful observations. The songs feel like little moments of retreat and replenishment, reverberating with the delicious energy that is to be found in exactly these kinds of small churches.

Each of the eight songs, the majority under three minutes in length, is a gem informed by folk tradition, but it is the closing track ‘The Old Boys’ to which I find myself drawn again and again. Recalling Simon and Garfunkel’s beloved ‘Old Friends’, the song ticks off the names of the church goers “leaving softly from Evensong” and in so doing is, under the inevitable recent collective memory of the pandemic, inevitably also tinged with the fragile sorrow of loss. It is an eloquent ending, but is not the end. Time slips on. The waters flow and the cycle continues. We go on.

Also, whilst I generally struggle with Podcasts (I would rather much read, but appreciate I am in an, ahem, Unpopular minority there) I very much enjoyed listening to Rumsey talk on The Church Times podcast.