Genre: Contemporary Pirate Folk.
Rating: X
Target Audience: Adults who enjoy a swarthy jig alongside pirate porn

The cover. My god, the cover. It’s an ass. At first glance, I thought it was a rashed, diseased ass. But no, it’s an ass with a map of the world. I don’t know if that makes me feel better or not.

Awkwardly icky as its ass cover may be, considering that The Brigands’ latest album is titled “X”, you can perhaps begin to anticipate what sort of music it contains. Sea shanties and jigs, of course, but also plenty of pirate smut. Filthy, tasteless pirate smut. And that, of course, is why we love them.

The album begins cleanly enough with the Mariners Revenge song. Originally performed by The Decemberists, the Brigands’ own rendition does a fine job at capturing the fun of the original, while still giving it a definite Brigands flavor. Triple Scotch then treats us to a peppy jig before dropping us into the deep end of smut with The Period Song – a humorous ditty about exactly what you think it’s about (hint: it ain’t punctuation.) No holds are barred in this song of menstruation, and yet still it doesn’t adequately prepare for the next track, Get In, Get Out – a manly chant about, again, exactly what you imagine. Where The Period Song leaned towards the shocking side of humor, Get In, Get out is leaning so far as to risk falling over – but it does manage to keep its feet (barely), making for the sort of filth many a pirate will laugh at, and then realize they’re going straight to hell.

Sarum’s Song returns us to lyricless jig territory – a bit more swaggery than danceable this time, it’s easy on the ears and a welcome break to catch your breath after the previous tracks. Hoist the Colors is a cover of the song made famous in Pirates of the Caribbean: At World’s End. In the past I’ve found The Brigands’ covers of movie songs to be a bit rough and jerky, and Hoist the Colors is no exception. Their version is slow and piratey, but for some reason this band loses a bit of stride when treading into Disney territory.

But, again true to form, they quickly recover with Flowers of Edinborough - a fast, highly energized jig the likes of which will surely burn a hole in the bottom of your shoe if you’re not careful. Rummer, the Rumrunner is then a highly enjoyable story of a pirate who collects diseases like others would trading cards. A Man from Portwater then returns us solidly to the dirty realms – this time even including bestiality. Particularly awkward being as it’s a rather catchy sing, and you’ll likely join in – just do so quietly.

Ben Backstay is an a cappella sea song that most stands out on this CD in that it doesn’t appear to be remotely smutty – I keep listening for the overt double entendre’s or outright profanity, but it appears to be absent. And so we move on to The Pyrate’s Way. Again, not at all dirty, but it does boast a fine enjoyable quality of its own. Sort of a “What Would a Pirate Do?” song, it makes for a very fun original piece.

Good Ship Veinus (that’s the spelling in the liner notes, which to me conjures a disturbing image) is The Brigands’ version of the famous historical smutty song. It’s a fine performance, making for a song that’s enjoyable, danceable, and utterly filthy. The Brigands then send us off with The Hellion’s Delight, being another of their signature jigs. Again from the gently energized school, it’s an excellent – if deceptively innocent – conclusion to an album of pirate songs and pirate smut.

X is perhaps one of the most morally-contrasted albums I’ve experienced. It carries songs ranging from G-rated to XXX, all of them performed in the sort of good-natured “gettin’ jiggy with it” manner one might expect to find in a properly rustic tavern. This isn’t the sort of pirate CD you simply listen to, rather it’s the sort you share with friends and drink, dance, and curse to. And if any of your mates are closet prudes, you’ll know soon enough when they walk out – which leaves more rum for the rest of you.

I had a conversation a while back with Patch, lead singer and principle songwriter of the Musical Blades. On asking him what other pirate bands he enjoyed, he expressed to my utmost surprise that he doesn’t listen to other pirate bands – not even a little bit. He does this so that his own writing will remain truly “his own”, wishing to follow his own instincts as to what pirate music can be rather than risk following the leads of others. While I myself could never fathom removing myself from the wealth of pirate music splendour that exists these days, I would offer the observation that Patch’s own abstinence seems to have served him, and the Musical Blades as a whole, rather well.

On their new album, Piratically Incorrect, the Musical Blades show themselves to be a band that fits the pirate mould to a T, while at the same time defying stereotypes and common trends. Their music is soulful yet strong – many of their songs speak of the sort of non-denominational spirituality one finds when clinging to the railing during a squall, while others demonstrate the irreverance one exhibits once making it safely ashore again (and thusly to the nearest tavern.)

In musical style, Piratically Incorrect boasts a unique mix. Where most of the songs feature strong, clear vocals and crisp, lively guitar work, others – such as Drink til She’s Pretty and Orsa Ad Finish (I Ran) [incidentally, NOT a pirate remake of Flock of Seagulls] – hail from the “drunken barn dance” school of music. The album begins with Blackbeard’s Demise, a spoken word piece set to music which sounds as though it were read from the headlines following the famous pirate’s decapitation. It’s an enjoyable piece, and an excellent introduction to this fine album. Next up is Johnny I Hardly Knew Ya – a manly sort of singin’ song, sort of a drinking man’s fight anthem.

Subsequent songs show the Musical Blade’s spiritual side – Old Triangle begins with a longing, and then continues with in a faster pace that nonetheless remains thoughtful. Pirate’s Plea, however, is exactly as the title would indicate – a cry to the heaven’s from a distraught sailor realizing the bleakness of his existence. Later songs share in this somber tone – So Dies the Captain is a touching tribute to a captain that’s passed on, while the bitter sweetness of Pirate’s Lullaby has a distinct Simon & Garfunkel bent to it. Ocean Burial and Maracaibo also carry a slow strength, while still finding their own original voices in turn.

While strength and strange reverence would seem the overriding theme of this album, there is still time made for the alternate side of the coin. Dirty ‘lil Accent is perhaps the most harmless sounding dirty song I’ve ever listened too – think smutty Beatles. Drink ’til She’s Pretty you can guess at yourself, while Ship Load o’ Bastards traces the distress of a sailor who learns that his entire crew is made up of his own illegitimate sons.

Bullgine, Spancill Hill, and What’ll it Be are all decent songs in their own rights, and nicely compliment the album while not entirely standing out. Bring on the Limey Birds, however, is worth a mention as it’s a fine tribute to the female performance group that has often shared the stage with the Musical Blades – a song distinctively funkier than the rest of the album, and a fun change of pace.

Piratically Incorrect definitely charts its own course in the Pirate-Core world – hardly “off the map” in the way of pirate rap or pirate jazz, but also not remotely the “same ‘ol same ‘ol” that can be the trap of pirate faire music. The Musical Blades are definitely a band not quite like any other, and their new album is well worth a listen.

Genre: Contemporary Pirate Folk.
Rating: PG
Target Audience: Anyone – particularly those familiar with prominent historical pirates

Yes, it does occasionally happen that I fully, shamelessly gush my love of a pirate album. So if that doesn’t suit you, then just save yourself the trouble and skip past this review – you don’t need to read it, but you *do* need to buy Roy Metté’s Pirates of the East Coast of the Americas & the Caribbean Sea.

Boasting the wordiest, most awkward title I’ve seen on a pirate album in some time, with Pirates of the East Coast of the Americas & the Caribbean Sea, Roy Metté nonetheless achieves a marvelous perfection in his craft. Being contemporary folk with nothing remotely “folky” about it, Pirates features 14 original songs – most of them inspired by historical pirates – that are each and every one astounding achievements in themselves. The introductory track, Bartholomew Roberts, is a surprisingly perky tale of one of history’s most successful pirates. The guitar work is pleasant yet retrospective, as are the lyrics. Roy’s vocals seem to channel shanty legend Tom Lewis at times, albeit focusing on far more piratey subjects. Throughout the album his subjects and styles range from the pleasant to the ironic to the very, very somber.

Subsequent songs vary widely in pace and style, although quality is consistently high. Calico Jack is something of a left-handed toast, offering the belated pirate a brief raise of the glass, but nothing more. It comes across as tributary yet dismissive, which for those that know the exploits (and end) of Calico Jack may seem perfectly apt treatment. Captain William Kidd, however, is all respect in the most low key, solemn means possible. The tale of Kidd is told through the reflection of his hanging corpse – a concept that could seem unduly morbid, but it’s so eloquently handled that it achieves a level of artistry seldom seen in pirate music. Each song of this album, in fact, is uniquely suited to the characters of the pirates they explore, including Anne Bonny, Black Beard, Jean Lafitte, Charles Vane, and Benito De Soto.

While the vast majority of songs on this album are dedicated to individual pirates, there are a few exceptions. Paradise Island is a song of resignation as an unnamed sailor comes to grips with being marooned and watching his crew sail off without him. Tortuga is a tribute to the famous pirate stronghold, while Sailing Free arguably approaches a true sea shanty with it’s repeated lyrics and near worksong beat. The Articles of Black Bart also stands apart nicely in that it consists of the direct reading of genuine pirate articles against a layered backdrop of guitars. The album concudes with Polly the Parrot of the Caribbean, which makes wonderful wordplay of directions and numbers, utilizing shifts and repetitions to a point that it’s nearly hypnotic. This final song does feature a parrot that sounds a tad silly, but the nature of the song makes the interjection of a bird both fitting and necessary.

It’s called Pirates of the East Coast of the Americas & the Caribbean Sea. It’s by Roy Metté, and you really, really need to own this album.

Genre: Faire music, nautical and otherwise
Rating: PG-13
Target Audience: Grown ups, mostly

Marooned is an album (and a band) that has a morbidly bizarre sense of humor. It’s (mostly) G-Rated, yet remains a CD largely about death, bastards, and booze. The oddness begins right away with Companion, an a cappella song (as is the entire album) that sounds gentle and friendly. The lead vocals are personable and very human, and the backup vocals are soft yet solid. As to the lyrics? Well, that’s when you start to realize that this seemingly harmless song is actually a bundle of peer-pressure, strongly indicating that the singers will only be your friend if you drink lots (and lots, and lots.)

And therein lies the unlikely beauty of it all – much of Marooned seems tame… until you look closer. Henry My Son makes similar strides as it too sounds like a fairly standard folk song. But again, the edge is found in the lyrics – this time about a real bastard on his deathbed (apparently due to no more than a headache) as he sings of his last will and testament. Whether it’s the debt he leaves his children or the noose he leaves his sweetheart, it’s clear that this is one bloke you’re happier having never met. Bloody Well Dead then continues with words of how grand it is to finally be dead, while When I Was Single is a maiden’s tale of why she sticks with her deadbeat husband.

Mixed in amongst all the morbidity are a few traditional shanties, such as Haul Away Joe, Rolling Down to Old Maui, and the Black Belvet Band. Competently performed, each of them, although I do feel the recording comes off a little on the flat side.

Concluding the album is a song that’s certainly not traditional, although it does have firm roots in scripture – Constipated Men illustrates how many firgures from Biblical lore had difficulties making number two (Noah, for example, passed only water for forty days and nights.) Not terribly piratey, and just a tad heretical. But disturbingly catchy, and I have caught myself singing it to myself in the shower.

Marooned isn’t exactly a must-have album for pirate-enthusiasts, as swashbuckling references are fairly few and far-between. But folks who adore faire music, and especially those who take grim delight in dark humor (you know who you are) would do well to give this album a spin.

Genre: Pirate-themed faire music
Rating: PG-13
Target Audience: Grown ups, mostly

By and large, the vast majority of festival pirate music centers around traditional songs. This gives rise to two common problems:

1) Much of it starts to sound the same

and 2) Being as few traditional songs were actually about pirates, there’s often little to differentiate “pirate” music from other festival-driven sea shanties, Irish fighting songs, or bawdy ballads.

In Cannon, Cutlass, and Curves, pirate festival veterans The Jolly Rogers handily trounce these issues with an album that’s almost entirely original compositions. Their songs are fun, irreverent, and yes indeed – piratey. Final tally, in fact, shows no less than an impressive seven songs truly, entirely about pirates. Five more are dedicated to the Jolly Rogers less-than-innocent appreciation of the fairer sex, two more about drinking, and four additional tunes not of pirate, wench, or booze persuasion (although two remain distinctly nautical.)

The album begins with Black Jack Slim’s Cutthroat Inn, a catchy, energized song inviting several notable pirates from history to come have a drink. It’s shamelessly piratey, and a fine start to this album with its strong presence and prominent use of vocals and guitar. Next up is the traditional Haul Away to Botony Bay, a song of Australian servitude as sung by criminals (not exactly piratey, but close enough, I’ll wager.)

Curvy Girls is one of the Jolly Rogers’ signature lady-centric songs – in this case a tribute to “real” women, complete with all the curves and shapes the Jolly Rogers so clearly appreciate. The Fight, however, is a stark return to true pirate music – full of piss and vinegar, this is a song of buccaneering braggadocio, and not one to be missed. Seven Days to Paradise is again a song of feminine-appreciation, in this case the kind you pay for (read that as dockside Barbadian prostitutes.)

Mutiny, while it doesn’t specifically state such, appears a slow and soulful song recounting the tale of the mutiny on the HMS Bounty. The reduced pace of the song doesn’t perfectly mesh with the occasional exclamations of “mutiny!”, but this song otherwise carries a somber, foreboding tone that’s a joy to hear. Cap’n's Keg, on the other hand, is the sailor’s version of a drunken barn dance with it’s twangy flavor and jiggy pace. The lyrics are light and fun, making for a decent if not exactly benchmark song. Wicked, conversely, strikes all the right chords – slow and sad, it’s a song of Henry Every’s exploits recounting his rise to captaincy through his legendary capture of the wealthy Moghul ship, Ganj-I-Sawai.

Goin’ Back to the Sea is an amusing song regarding how hard it is to keep gainful employment ashore, especially for a lad with an affinity for the lady customers. It’s full of innuendo, and a fine example of the Jolly Rogers’ love of not-quite-dirty (or conversely, not-exactly-clean) sea songs.

The Song of a Ship might be considered the most respectable song of the lot, being as it’s the only one here that doesn’t involve women, booze, or violence. Too bad, because it’s actually a very good song – but without the women, booze, or violence, what’s a pirate to do? Up Boys Up presents no such quandary, as it’s clearly a song of young pirate boys serving as ship lookouts. Strong and adventuresome, it’s another excellent addition to the album’s healthy offering of original pirate songs.

The Ladies all Loved Me is the CDs second song of braggadocio, but in this case it’s regarding each pirates physical, er, assets. Or prowess, depending on the nature of each’s gift. It’s a fun, witty, “clean” song featuring innuendo as dirty as it gets. Tap That Cask, however, features no innuendo (despite what you might expect from the title.) Simply an energized song of anticipation of drinking time, this would be one of the few sideline songs of the album – decent, but not really special enough to warrant any particular mention.

Isle of Brest is a marked change in musical style for the Jolly Rogers with its uniquely tropical sound. It’s also another song of innuendo (say Isle of Brest aloud a few times and you’ll guess it’s nature soon enough.) Pirate Boys also boasts a different sound from the rest of the album, as it lacks the guitar featured so effectively throughout the rest of the songs. It’s a decent piece, but the a’capella, combined with a slightly silly temperament, makes it sound a bit more “faireish” than the rest of the album. We Want, however, is a bold, powerful return to the true musical piratey that’s so prominently featured throughout Cannon, Cutlass, and Curves. Utilizing strong acoustic guitar and excellent lyrics about the expectations pirates demand life to deliver, it’s an excellent conclusion to the swashbuckler aspects of this CD. However, two more songs do remain – Wild Gypsy Girl and HMH2 (Horror Movie Hero 2). Both of these final songs are exceptional in their own rights, although they don’t feel like a natural part of this particular album – Wild Gypsy Girl being rather lovey-dovey and twirly for a band that doesn’t exactly seem at home with subjects such as “devotion” or “committment” regarding their love of the female species, and HMH2 a 50′s drive-in style song about kicking monsters butts and killing vampires – great, great fun, but an odd fit.

The final two songs aside, Cannon, Cutlass and Curves is a brilliant pirate album. At worst the songs are decent, and at best they’re outright glorious – and in a one-for-one count, the glorious handily trump the merely decent. A certain must-have for pirate music fans.

Genre: Traditional and traditional-style sea shanteys
Rating: PG
Target Audience: Grownups, older kids, and especially fans of Bounding Main’s live shows

As an entertainment group, Bounding main is essentially a coin with two sides. On the one, we have Bounding Main the live performers – exceptionally talented singers with a clear rapport with their audience, and more than a little tendency towards joking and goofing around. Bounding Main’s shows are generally defined by fun over perfection, where errors and surprises (for audience and performers alike) make each show wonderfully unique. And on the other side we have Bounding Main the recording artists, where the beauty of the vocals and a mastery of the stereo medium have seen the traditional sea shanty evolve into true music, rather than mere lumbering work songs.

In their live performances, Bounding Main often shines best when their songs are fun. On their CDs, however, they shine when the songs are drop dead gorgeous. With their latest album, Going Overboard, Bounding Main attempts to bridge this gap with fun, frequently light-hearted songs that work well live and also work well on CD. It does, however, convey a slightly different flavor that their previous two albums.

Songs such as South Australia, Johnny Come Down the Hilo, and Fire Maringo are peppy and well performed, but not as awe-inspiring as similar songs from their earlier works. Haul Away Joe, for example, has never been a favorite of mine, but on the Bounding Main album Lost at Sea they made this song absolutely glow. Fire Maringo has a similar feel, but comes across as a bit lackluster in comparison. It’s good – just not great. Other songs take a slower approach, which Bounding Main often translates into higher emotional kick. But as with the previously mentioned songs, Fareweel Tae Tarwathie, Ocean Liner, and Leaving of Liverpool don’t quite rise to the level of earlier recordings. Easy on the ears and very pretty, but not quite beautiful and awe-inspiring.

This aside, Going Overboard does have a couple of shining tracks. Blow Liza Blow is amazingly strong – and I can personally vouch that seeing it performed live it’s even more so. Jaw-dropping, is the phrase. Golden Vanity is also a small triumph, although surprisingly so. A very upbeat version of this song, background vocals are used musically to create sounds that are almost goofy, but so skillfully performed that they can’t help but impress.

In many ways, this would seem an album best suited for Bounding Main fans. Not only because fans are certain to enjoy this album’s many fine – if not quite brilliant – songs, but also because Going Overboard features a couple live tracks with prominent audience participation. The Old Dun Cow is a definite favorite at Bounding Main shows, and the bonus track of Drunken Sailor even boasts audience members offering their own lines. Great fun, and a sure treat for anyone who enjoys Bounding Main live.

The last two songs that bear mention aren’t live, but conjure the live show just the same in that they heavily reference the Bounding Main members themselves. Toss & Roll and Pass the Mug are fine examples of the band’s self-deprecating humor as they poke fun at everything from their own lack of navigational skills to weak stomachs. Both songs also involve some fun vocal work and are amongst the catchier songs on the album.

Bounding Main’s previous albums set and exceptionally high bar, and this latest doesn’t quite measure up the same standards. However, if judged purely on its own merit, Going Overboard remains a very fun, well performed CD of mostly traditional songs performed with a bit more musical flare than is normally associated with the genre.

– Volume 1

– Volume 2
Genre: Various. Ranges from traditional to metal to lounge. Seriously.
Rating: PG
Target Audience: This is perhaps the most universal collection of pirate music ever. If you love any aspect of the genre, these albums are for you.

A short while back I was asked (and I paraphrase,) “I think I’m interested in learning more about pirate music, but I don’t know where to begin. Any suggestions?”

It’s a big question, and the answer may wildly vary depending on who’s asking. Someone with a background in sea shanties would likely enjoy the traditional styled pirate music of Marooned or Bounding Main, while someone with more contemporary tastes might prefer Pirate-Core, as could be found with Pirates R Us or the Jolly Garogers. Of course, both options sound deceptively brief, as Pirate-Core and Pirate Traditional alike feature a gargantuan variety of styles and flavors. Traditional can be found somber or quirky, historical or original, piratey or more generalized nautical, and so on. Pirate-Core of course can range from punk to metal to rap, and so very much more. So where to begin? It’s tough to say.

Actually, with the release of Lafitte’s Return Volumes One and Two, maybe it’s not so tough after all.

The Laftitte’s Return albums are produced by the Pirates for the Preservation of New Orleans Music (PPNOM) – a non-profit organization dedicated to aiding school music programs in New Orleans in the wake of Hurricane Katrina. It’s a fine cause in itself, but it’s also an excellent charitable focus for music-loving pirate fans. All proceeds from the sales of Lafitte’s Return go directly to PPNOM, which means more kids living in swamp land can learn to hum and play instruments and make pirate music of their very own, and thus the circle of life continues.

So now that we’ve addressed the feel-goodery of these albums, let’s address whether they’re actually worth buying, or if it’s just a charitable donation with a CD attached to it – and I’m quite pleased to say that these albums are worth every penny!

Between albums 1 and 2 (each sold seperately) we’re talking 41 songs. Some of them would qualify as general sea shanties (Spanish Ladies, Jack Tar, Farewell to Nova Scotia) but the vast, vast majority are distinctly pirate in subject matter. The style ranges all over the place – lovers of traditional pirate tunes will find Skip Henderson, Rusty Cutlass, Skeleton Crew Pirate Band, Salt Sea Pirates, The Pyrates Royale, Rant&Roar, and many others, while fans of Pirate-Core will be treated to Sforzando, Billy Knight, The Pirates Charles, There Be Pirates, Scuurvy, Sunken Chest – and this list too goes on. All told, it’s a delightfully diverse mix of pirate music, with something – many things – to please pirate fans of all tastes.

If you’re new to the world of pirate music, Lafitte’s Return can serve as an entry point without equal. If you’re already a seasoned fan of pirate music, you’ll likely find Lafitte’s Return to be a wonderful mix of your old favorites, your new favorites, and – more likely than not – several new discoveries.

A must have for all pirate music lovers.

Genre: Traditional and traditional-inspired
Rating: Mostly PG, but some songs are very, very R (and then some)
Target Audience: Adult

As the story goes, Johnny Depp and Gore Verbanski were so psyched about their recent Pirates of the Caribbean work that they decided to embark on a pirate project of their own. They co-produced Rogue’s Gallery, a two-disc album of 43 traditional sea-shanties as interpreted by a large and varied group of distinctly non-shanty artists. A bold proposition, to say the least, and one that could result in genius or catastrophe.

As fate would have it, Rogue’s Gallery contains a helping of each, along with a large dose of the decent-but-safely-benign. The album begins weakly with Baby Gramps’ “Cape Cod Girls” – a scratchy piece of tunelessness that drags on for a full seven minutes. But Baby Gramps does find more comfortable footing on the second disc in “The Old Man of the Sea” – a livelier, albeit vaguely lecherous, song much more befitting their particular talents.

Between these two CDs, in fact, several artists are paired with perfect songs for their own styles, and at such times Rogues Gallery is golden. Nick Cave is wonderfully sinister in his rendition of “Fire Down Below”, Joseph Arthur’s commanding vocals make for a fantastic version of “High Barbary”, and Mark Anthony Thompson combines guitars with didgeridoo for a haunting “Haul Away Joe.” Worthy of particular note is Bono’s “A Dying Sailor to His Shipmates,” a hundred-year-old song that couldn’t have been more perfect for him had he written it himself.

But surprisingly, one of the largest names on the album – and certainly one of the most fitting for the material – makes two of the most forgettable songs. Sting seems so at home with the Irish-pub style music that he could easily stand in for any tavern shanteyman in the country as he sings “Blood Red Roses” and “Shallow Brown.” A perfect match isn’t always a memorable match, it would seem. But that said, many other artists crank out performances that are entirely decent, but sadly fail to take the material anywhere noteworthy – Teddy Thompson, Bob Neuwirth, Martin Carthy, and Ed Harcourt to name only a few.

Still, adequate-yet-tame beats one alternative. A few noteworthy artists manage to contribute works nearly unlistenable. Three Pruned Men’s version of “Bully in the Alley” is not only atrocious, but contains botched lyrics that demonstrate a complete lack of understanding of what the song is about. But if you can’t sing along with them, at least you can laugh at this little oddity. Sadly, David Thomas’ “What Do We Do with a Drunken Sailor” can’t even boast that much – perplexing and painful, it’s a droning disaster. Ricky Jay & Richard Greene also offer a peculiar novelty, that being a fiddler playing “A Drop of Nelson’s Blood” while a narrator recites a poem complaining about the fiddler’s apparent lack of talent. Less music than performance art, this piece isn’t so much bad as weird.

Be it good, dull, or ugly, Rogue’s Gallery certainly offers an incredibly vast assortment of sea shanty – or sea shanty inspired – music. Many artists manage passable renditions of these traditional songs, and a few even inject enough of their own style in to achieve brilliance while remaining more-or-less loyal to the original works. A handful of others, however, take their songs into surprising new territory. Bryan Ferry combines haunting vocals and piano for a truly wonderful version of “The Cruel Ship’s Captain.” Eliza Carthy does a fantastic job with the lively yet sad “Rolling Sea,” and Jarvis Cocker’s “A Drop of Nelson’s Blood” carries an almost classic-rock-ballad feel about it. But perhaps most noteworthy of all is Jack Shit’s (not a typo) “Boney Was a Warrior”, in which they’ve created a sea shanty you could nearly club-dance too – no small feat, for this album or any other.

All told, Rogue’s Gallery is a mixed bag. I’d call it 50% decent-but-unremarkeable, 30% brilliant, and 20% downright-dreadful. Fans of traditional sea shanties might question the value of having mainstream singers commandeer music outside their own genres, but fans of experimentation may appreciate seeing what the new blood came up with.

Word has it a sequel is in the works, and that they already have most of the material left over from the first albums cutting-room floor. Listening to anything that took backseat to Three Pruned Men is a frightening proposition, although a follow-up album may yet have merit. Personally, I’d love to see more from those bands that managed to create some truly worthwhile tracks this first time around, and perhaps mix them in with a few of the more mainstream-friendly sea shanty groups. Seeing Bono spliced between the likes of Bounding Main and the Jolly Rogers, for example. Now there’s a pretty notion…

Genre: Traditional and traditional inspired sea shanteys.
Rating: PG
Target Audience: Grown ups, mostly

By and large, pirate music comes in two forms, the first being historical. These songs are normally performed by bands of reenactors focusing on sea shantys and drinking songs. Generally speaking, these bands are most appreciated by those who have experienced them live, and who wish to recapture the fun of swinging their grog around amongst a group of friends (I am, of course, painting with a broad brush.) The second form that pirate music often takes would be “pirate core” – music of a more modern nature that focuses on piracy as its theme. Be it pop, rock, metal, or punk, this music is sometimes more polished, and generally more accessible to fans of mainstream music (but perhaps uninteresting or even off-putting to traditionalists.)

So where do we place Bounding Main? Now that’s a pickle. In tone and subject matter they clearly fit with the historical bands. But unlike most sea shanty’s, their musical style doesn’t really evoke a feeling of rustic docks, but instead elicits a much deeper, emotional response.

While clearly singing of subjects nautical, Lost at Sea is not a series of sea songs, it’s a series of music – an astounding feat considering Bounding Main is an a-cappella group. Each member of the six-person crew repeatedly and successfully utilze their voices as instruments in and of themselves, creating melodies that – even if you didn’t speak a word of english – conjure images of the sea, and feelings ranging for festive to forlorn.

Rather than break this CD down song-by-song, I think it adequate to say Lost at Sea ranges from lively drinking songs to exciting, touching, and hopeful ballads. There’s not a dud in the mix, and the album is worth every penny. If I were to offer a criticism, it would be that the crew of Bounding Main doesn’t place enough confidence in the strength of their own voices, and opts to toss in occasional silly noises and whoops during some of the songs. This is certainly appropriate for their live performances, but on this album is has the same spell-breaking effect as a movie-star winking at the camera during a dramatic scene. But fortunately these distractions are mostly contained to only a few songs, and it don’t really impact the quality of the music as a whole.

A fantastic album that reenactors, modern pirate enthusiasts, and landlubbing music lovers can all enjoy in equal measure – as highly recommended as they come.

Genre: Traditional and traditional inspired sea shanteys.
Rating: PG
Target Audience: Grown ups, mostly

When I think of sea shanties, I generally imagine them as performed by folk singers (i.e. musicians performing fairly down-to-earth, no frills songs recapturing the music of old.) I DON’T generally imagine sea shanties as performed by recording artists (i.e. musicians that seek not only to master the art of music, but the science of utilizing modern studio techniques to maximize the impact of the final product.) It was in this way that Bounding Main caught me completely by surprise. Indeed, I’d previously heard them live a couple of times, and already knew them to be fine performers. But upon playing their CD I was caught completely off guard.

The Bounding Main’s first CD, appropriately titled “Maiden Voyage,” opens with “Mingulay Boat Song,” a slower yet still upbeat song that I confess exceeds the bounds of my limited musical vocablularly to adequately describe. But I can say this much – when I put in this CD, I was nearly half asleep. Once this song got rolling, I was scrambling to turn up the volume and then sat in awe of how it made such use of my speakers – it was almost as if the entire six-person crew of Bounding Main was standing in a circle around me as they sang, making this less of a song and more of a 3-D experience.

“Pump Shanty” is next up – a sea shanty in the truest sense, although I don’t think I’d previously heard a song for pumping the bilge (by my time, bilgepumps were powered by steam.) It’s a wonderfully fun and catchy piece, but more importantly it continues the fine recording quality as demonstrated in the previous song.

“Fiddler’s Green” seems somewhat more standard fare, being a rather nice traditional song about the sailors’ heaven. But “Pay Me, You Owe Me” livens things up nicely again. I don’t know whatever possessed someone to write a song about collecting loans from longshoreman, but it makes for a fun, catchy piece (so long as you’re not the one that owes the money, I suppose.)

“Sailors Prayer” is another highly polished piece, soft and lyrical, followed by the equally impressive “Old Maui,” sung in a slow, low-pitched voice that sounds properly sailor-like. The pace then picks up a little with “A Rovin,” which, while a decent piece, has several portions when extra voices chime in, and it feels a little incomplete without the visuals that might accompany a live performance.

“Blow the Wind Southerly” is an nice, folky song. It’s very well performed, but its moderate, somewhat rolling pace made it one of the less memorable songs for me. But the CD then takes on a more fun direction with “The Mermaid” and “Derelict”; catchy tunes each, with “Mermaid” being fast and happy, and “Derelict” (that would be the “Yo Ho Ho and a Bottle of Rum” song) a bit slower, and just a tad sinister.

The album’s concluding songs, “Leave Her Johnnie” and “Health to the Company” are both slower songs, and easily as good as any on the album, again making the most of the CD medium.

Without a doubt, this is a wonderful album. Instrument lovers will notice that almost none play a role on this CD, but the singers put their voices to fantastic use, and it’s a joy to hear. While the lyrics are all nautical in nature, no one would ever accuse this music of sounding rough or piratey – it’s just too highly polished and well done (that’s hardly a criticism – but it is something that should be mentioned in a “pirate review.”) Some sea songs were meant for dancing, others for parties and background music. But this album is meant for listening, plain and true.