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Fairport Convention: Babbacombe Lee
Richard Cromelin, Rolling Stone, 13 April 1972
"JOHN LEE, the jury has found you guilty of willful murder, and the sentence of the court upon you is that you be taken from this place to a lawful prison, and there to a place of execution, and there suffer death by hanging ... And may the Lord have mercy on your soul."
Humble John Lee of Babbacombe doesn't have the mythic nature of a Tommy, but he is sure-fire folk-hero material. Briefly, his true story is this: At the age of 20, Lee was convicted of murdering his elderly employer; he was sent to the gallows, where three times in succession the trap door failed to open, thus (by a delightful formality of British law) obviating the death penalty.
It's a simple little drama, acted by the most mundane of characters. Fairport's accomplishment lies in their bestowing upon it a universality and culling from it some rather cosmic implications, giving us, in the process, their finest record and certainly one of the best "concept albums".
We first meet Lee as a lad and observe (it's a very visual album, the music often functioning more like a film soundtrack than a direct narrative) his first meeting with Mr. Keyes (the victim) and his departure for the Navy. In this first section the music is brisk, exhilarating, rosy and bursting with youthful exuberance. But then Lee contracts pneumonia, and as Fairport's tightly performed, beautifully sung music gathers steam and winds up into a tense, rousing chorus that seems to foreshadow troubles to come, we begin to sense, almost imperceptibly, that our John is in the hands of something close to Destiny, a pawn in some bizarre Divine game. Soon thereafter, the grisly crime is perpetrated.
Side two consists of an extended approach to the harrowing climax. Rather than escalate the intensities in a straight, obvious line, though, Fairport have wisely chosen to take the time, to limn the complex. They present wavering states of mind that possessed the incarcerated Mr. Lee with three long, slow selections which simultaneously concoct a devilish degree of suspenseful anticipation.
Fairport's concise, poetic and detailed translation of the story into verse is perhaps their most impressive achievement, but running a close second is the assured performance of their eclectic British folk-cum-rock music and the manner in which they have employed same to heighten the drama that unfolds in the libretto: the prayer he never expected to be answered is a touching lament; the dream a haunting ballad of slow-motion beauty; and the rousing climax is milked for all it's worth with tension-accumulating violin breaks (Dave Swarbrick) and stirring drumming (Dave Mattacks). It's more remarkable still that they have managed to do it all while remaining within the strict limits of the folk format.
In the end we have become fascinated with Lee as a character, a man whose naive, stolid faith in his innocence apparently worked a magical deliverance (though Fairport leaves such conclusions strictly to the listener), and have encountered such suddenly real creatures as Fate, Hope, and Death.
In both concept and execution, Fairport Convention have done a masterful job. This could and should be the album to bring them the attention they've deserved for a long time.
© Richard Cromelin, 1972
