So most “real” news outlets mention when they have a vested interest in a story – full disclosure and whatnot. Seems like a good idea, so I think it’s fair to mention that The Brigands bought me breakfast a few months back. Coffee, eggs, bacon… there might have been some sort of bread involved, like an english muffin or toast, but I don’t rightly recall. I probably drank a bit of rum the night before, so memory may be sketchy. But the bacon is remembered, and appreciated. But let me assure you, it doesn’t affect this review in the least…

INNER BUCCANEER IS THE GREATEST CD OF ALL TIME AND YOU SHOULD BUY THREE COPIES RIGHT THIS MINUTE.

Ok, lame jokes aside (but bacon still remembered), Inner Buccaneer is, what now, The Brigands’ fifth album? It’s pretty impressive that a band made up of one father and three sons is cohesive enough to put out even a single fine pirate album, but five? This man shouldn’t be singing pirate music – he should be writing books on how to quelch mutinies.

I should stop messing around and review this album. But seriously, what can I say that you don’t already know? This is The Brigands – if their reputation doesn’t proceed them, then you’ve been living in a cave. Jigs and reels abound on this album, making up a full eight of the thirteen tracks, so strap on your dancing boots and get ready to do high kicks from the barroom tables. Sea songs, however, aren’t forgotten. Hard Pressed is a strong, rousing tale of adventure as a pressed sailor decides he’s ready to reclaim his freedom. It’s really a brilliant and moving song, although the vocals are a little too softly mixed for my taste. One More Day, The Squall, and Warlike Seamen are more appropriately balanced, and also more fully represent The Brigands’ usual style of vocalizing – less like coddled musicians and more like seasoned buccaneers. By this I mean the vocals might want for some polish, but they more than make up for it in salty pirate flair. Nelson’s Blood concludes the album with a bit of a surprise, however, as it begins with a singer that sounds like he’s just had a final drink too many, but then is quickly joined by additional voices and what seems to be an electric guitar. This modern touch seems new territory for The Brigands, and made for a rather epic conclusion to a fine pirate album.

The thing about the band Marooned is that you should never listen to them while drinking rum. It’s not that they aren’t piratey – it’s just that alcohol can promote depression, and so can Marooned. Slow and somber, mostly a capella songs of death and despair, it’s best to stay sober lest you start blubbering into your mug. But even if you prefer your rum cut with the salty bitterness of your own tears, at least take a moment to hide the rope and razorblades.

The album begins with Hoist the Colors, a song you likely recognize from Pirates of the Caribbean: At World’s End. Remember that scene where thousands of people are waiting in line to get executed, and so they all start singing? That scene that ends with a little boy getting his neck snapped at the end of a noose (classic Disney moment)? Well, this is the song that Marooned begins their album Better Than Live with, and it nicely epitomizes the CD. Strong yet soothing, like a demented lullaby, Marooned combines male and female vocals to lull you to nappy time where you will dream of oppression, torment, and a magical land where landlubbers mock you (Detroit.) It’s odd and strange, and thus not to be missed.

The album continues with a mix of traditional shanties, some tracks that I believe might be from the renfaire side of the puddle, and even one or two more pirate-specific songs (including everyone’s favorite pirate anthem, The Derelict.) Of the traditional songs, Man O’ War for me stands out the most in that it’s a rare moment of Marooned sounding upbeat. It’s indeed a happy tale of how grand it would be to serve aboard a mighty warship. But *if* being the operative word, I suppose the singer does not actually serve on such a vessel, and most likely works in taxidermy. Which brings us right back to depressing again. Spanish Ladies, in contrast, is a song that is often considered peppy and festive, but Marooned leaves their indelible mark as they recreate the classical tune into one that is strong yet utterly somber.

Also worth mentioning is True Love – a song that I’m not strictly familiar with, so it might be original, or it might be one of the millions of traditional songs I’ve not yet stumbled upon in my rum-addled stupor. Whatever its origins, this is a song of utter grace and beauty. Female vocals spin a tale of loss and longing as a woman stares seaward awaiting her love’s return (but this is Marooned, so I’m certain he never will. Also, the tax man just reclaimed her cottage.)

All this talk of depression might have you believing this album is best avoided – and if you suffer from mental or emotional instability, steer clear at all costs. But anyone with a healthy outlook on life and an ear for emotionally charged sea songs would do well to check it out. However, I’d be remiss if I didn’t address one greivance I have with the album, and this is regarding many of the songs which feature two lead males singing in unison [tasteless gay joke omitted]. A few tracks, in fact, feature this vocal duo (Cuckoo’s Nest, Watches, The Dutchman) which sounds less like two lead singers and more like a single vocalist with some weird reverb issues. To me the two voices don’t blend well, and result in a distraction from the songs’ more favorable qualities.

I’ve never seen Marooned perform live, so I can’t state for a fact that this album is indeed “Better Than Live.” But it is a fine album that stands in stark contrast to the mounting selection of pirate rock, upbeat shanties, and rum-swilling party songs. This is a CD unafraid of tackling the innermost demons of shipboard and seagoing life. These are the songs you’ll sing softly through your tears as you find yourself shackled and hanging by your ankles in a Spanish prison, or while huddling from the cold in a drafty dockside tavern, your eyes burned from your skull by a captain with no sense of humor. So give it a spin, drink some rum water, and be glad that the dark days have not yet arrived.

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: Traditional styled “tavern” music
Rating: G
Target Audience: Fans of folk-oriented pirate music

In a world full of festival pirate music, pirate-core music, and pirate parody music (and we love you all), it does seem it’s sometimes hard to find “real” pirate music. These would be tunes performed in the traditional style of dockside taverns, complete with old-fashioned instruments and vocals supplied by voices that were likely yelling “heave the jib to” or “I’ll gut ya like a Spaniard” earlier that same afternoon. But with their new album, affectionately titled “Pirate Scum”, this is exactly what The Brigands brings to the table.

Pirate Scum features a mix of instrumental and vocalized tracks – 8 of the first, and 6 of the second. This alone makes The Brigands stand out, as true piratey intstrumentals are sometimes hard to come by outside of movie soundtracks. On this album, the majority of the instrumentals would qualify as “peppy jigs” – energetic and suitable to bar room dancing or fighting alike. The Little Gale, however, stands out as a more dramatic achievement. It begins like a battle march, with slow drums and a repeating single, deep guitar strum. But then the fiddles join in to add an element of energy – but in this case the energy has a clear danger about it. All the instrumental pieces on Pirate Scum are good, but The Little Gale is on a level of its own – its deeper tones create a sense of forboding even as the fiddles make it clear the pot is already boiling over.

The album’s first vocal track is The Mariner’s Compass is Grog – a title which I must wholeheartedly embrace. The song itself if quite good – slow and affectionate, the singer clarifies just how important grog is to the average swab. Grand Pubs of Yorkshire is also a tributary song, but in this case about the – well, the title sort of makes that clear. Essentially an extended toast in in song form, it strongly embodies the destinctive “real tavern” sound of The Brigands – not polished, but rather crusty and authentic.

On most of this album, the earthiness of The Brigands is an asset to the music. But on Shiver My Timbers, it just doesn’t hold up. Disjointed and awkward, this track is rather hard on the ears. The rushed pace of the performance doesn’t help either. Hanging Johnny, on the other hand, takes its time and makes the most of its rustic appeal. Multiple instruments join a strong yet scratchy voice to make a song that carries an authenticity about it while also remaining an enjoyable listen.

Topman and the Afterguard is easily the most unusual track of the album. The vocals are intentionally distant, and accompanied only by one, single note held steadily throughout. These elements combine for an almost otherworldly effect, and make this both an enjoyable and strangely intriguing song.

The Juice of the Barley closes out the album. More of a silly performance than others on the track, it contains several ad-lib jokes and tangential comments between the lead singer and other performers. It’s likely very amusing live, but on a CD I find this sort of thing distracting.

Summed up, Pirate Scum is a well composed album for anyone seeking “real” tavern music – instrumental or otherwise. Most of it is quite good, and while there are a couple of duds in the mix, there are also a couple stars to help keep the balance.

Genre: Traditional-style shanties with a pirate bent
Rating: PG
Target Audience: Pretty much anyone into traditionalish pirate music

With their album, Ole Zach’s Tavern, the Bone Island Buccaneers strike a delicate balance – they sound polished enough to be musical, but rough enough to still be pirates. All too often a pirate song is sung by a voice that’s clearly never tasted a lick of rum, but I’ve an inkling that the entire crew of Bone Island has indulged in at least a dram or two on occasion.

Ole Zach’s Tavern features 11 traditional tracks that have already seen a fair share of play on pirate and shanty albums nationwide. The remaining tracks include Billy Bones (a cover of Skip Henderson’s own marvelous creation) and one original song, Sword and Iron Thunder.

Traditional pirate songs are becoming a sticking point with me, being as pirate shanty groups seem to be on the rise – as do their CDs. While a dozen essentially similar groups spread across the nation can serve a purpose, having a dozen similar CDs does not. Considering the familiar names in the track list of Ole Zach’s Tavern, this concern was at the forefront of my mind as I gave my first listen. Fortunately, Bone Island Buccaneers inject enough peronality into their music to land the CD just this side of unique. Occasionally this injection of pesonality takes the form of laughs between verses, exclamations of “yo ho” or “drink up me hearties” – but only enough to add flavor, and not so much as to distract. But it’s the music and singing themselves that define this album. The male vocals sound good natured, but hardly angelic – pleasantly roguish. The female vocals have a taste of the vixen about them, but a well-armed vixen with a history of stabbing. As to the instruments, they’re pretty basic – simple guitar strums keeping pace with the singing. But it makes for a fine compliment to the vocals, and the finished package is quite believably piratey.

There seems little reason to delve into this album’s individual tracks – all are well performed and enjoyable. Some feature additional background tavern sounds that add a nice ambiance. But one song that does truly stand out is Sword and Iron Thunder. This song is entirely original to this album, which is what makes it so special. Something of a pirate anthem asking the listener to “embrace the skull and bones”, it’s an excellent addition to a small but distinguished list of exceptional contemporary pirate shanties, and easily holds its own amongst other legendary pirate tunes such as “Billy Bones” and “Shiver My Timbers.”

An enjoyable, decent pirate album, with just enough original flare to distinguish itself from “the herd.”

Genre: Crusty pup shanty styled orignial compositions.
Rating: PG-13
Target Audience: Late teens to early retirement

With their album “Come Aboard,” The Alaskan Pirate and His Salty Seamen bring the listener a variety of traditional and original compositions, although most of us would be hard pressed to say which is which. Indeed, every track on this album, be it ancient or freshly written, sounds like it’s been sung by seagoing lads for generations. And what’s more, not one single track sounds even remotely “folkish.” These aren’t sea shanties as sung by an armchair sailor or children’s sing-a-long – not remotely. Rather, this is music as sung by the saltiest amongst us – those who’ve been to sea, had their fingers frozen to the oars and watched their mates get hauled below by tentacled creatures of the deep. The compositions are simple yet bold, the vocals crusty yet listenable. If Quint from the movie Jaws had a band, it would sound a lot like The Alaskan Pirate and His Salty Seamen.

Come Aboard: The album begins with the titular track Come Aboard, which introduces The Alaskan Pirate’s uniquely earthy style. Simple guitars and straightforward lyrics are accompanied by background sounds of seagulls and surf in this slow yet inviting track.

All for Me Grog: Once again the instrumentals begin simply, but are quickly joined by rousing lyrics and backups (I think I picked up on a squeezebox.) A very enthusiastic rendition of this pub favorite, listening to it will make you wonder why you’re not drinking (unless, of course, you are drinking, in which case you’ll likely spill your beer as you wave your mug around your head to the music.)

Row me Hearties: This is a song that would be most appreciated by hardened men of the sea – music for deep sea polar fishermen and their ilk. An incredibly manly tune, just listening to it will put hair on your chest. As such, wenches should exercise caution with this track.

Bowhead Whale: Songs about whale slaughter are always delightfully innapropriate, and this one is no exception. That said, it’s also surprisingly reverent of the beasts that were so cruely hunted centuries. This track is a loving yet fearful tribute to the strength, ferocity, and (eventually) the retail value of a whale.

Captain Kidd: A fast-paced rendition of a classical pirate song. Very well done.

Bellbottom Trousers: Another traditional tune, and easily the most lighthearted track on the album. Bellbottom Trousers is an energetic song about sailors’ use and abuse of local lasses. Not quite dirty, but certainly naughty.

Shark’s Eye: A haunting song, to be sure. Written and sung with the dread and conviction of one who’s actually faced a shark eye to eye, and lived to tell. One of the slower songs of the album, but also one of the strongest.

Sperm Whale and the Squid: One of the albums catchiest songs, and just a tad goofy at times. I suspect it’s a friendly jab at sailors and their overindulgence in male company, but I’m not certain. Maybe it’s just about sperm whales and squids. Maybe.

As an album, Come Aboard walks a fine line. The music is rough, yet remains easy on the ears. And while each song lends the impression that the band is made up of hardened sailors, rather than musicians, the outcome is still surprisingly harmoneous. The sea can be a brutal and unforgiving environment, and The Alaskan Pirate conveys due respect with every weather-beaten lyric, but not for a moment is this album desolote or grim. A sense of fun is conveyed at all times, and even as they sing of men lost at sea and blood spilled upon the decks, The Alaskan Pirate and His Salty Seamen will keep your toes tapping and your attention engaged.

Genre: Traditional and traditional inspired sea shanteys.
Rating: PG
Target Audience: All ages

Keepin’ it real on the high seas yar.

Sea shanties and pirate music come in many forms – some belong in the concert hall, some at a rock show, and others – true to their roots – belong in a crowded pub full of drunken sailors swinging their mugs in rough rhythm.

The Budd Bay Buccaneers’ album, “Got Booty?”, comfortably falls in this latter category. With a variety of light-hearted offerings ranging in subject from rum to violence to prostitution, the Buccaneers put their voices, fiddles, and humor to full swaggering use. Historically inspired but not historically-restrained – they aren’t afraid to depart from authenticity for the sake of entertainment. Songs like “Holy Ground”, “All for Me Grog”, “Hangin’ Davy” each have a wonderfully tradional feel, while “Salamon Gundi” (which can best be described as very white pirate rap) and “The Pirate Alphabet” (which is exactly what you’d guess) clearly exist simply for the fun of it.

“Got Booty?” offers a couple of songs that particularly stand out – “Billy Bones” is a fantastic piece, although I do feel it was already perfected by Skip Henderson. “Rant and Roar”, however, is a fine original piece based on the tradional “The Ryans and the Pittmans,” customized with a load of Northwestern references. And “The Banshee” features the Buccaneers at their best with a song that’s both piratey and catchy.

“Got Booty?” suffers a bit from the same problem that affects many shanty albums in that the tone and content lend themselves better to a seedy shack of a tavern than they do a pair of headphones or 5.1 stereo speakers – it just feels unnatural listening to these performaces through a recorded medium. But this is often an unavoidable evil of the genre, and shouldn’t obscure the fact that the Budd Bay Buccaneers are a wonderfully fun pirate band, and “Got Booty?” is a very fine album of excellently real pirate shanties.