CD Review

Grit Laskin
Unabashedly Folk
Borealis

This is 2-disc collection consists of Laskin's first two albums, Unmasked and Lila's Jig, originally released on Stan Rogers' Fogarty's Cove label in 1979 and 1985, plus several unreleased tracks from the same period. From Traditionally inspired instrumentals and rural/sea ballads to more contemporary Canadian themes, the songs show why Laskin's "unabashedly folk" approach made him a solid part of Canada's immensely influential folk resurgence.

"Lucky Man" is one song that has taken on a life of its own, like a traditional Irish ballad. Here's a happily married, modestly successful tradesman who takes a moment to compare his lot with that of those who are less fortunate, a kind of "There But For Fortune":

I had no say in being born / Or when and where it happened to me
It's only chance that turned the wheel / And made my living easy
Oh I am a lucky man, favored by fair fortune's hand
Far more than I'm deserving.

A simple, welcome alternative to folksingers who try to pretend that fortune has not smiled on them or who protest with guilty indignation at the plight of the oppressed. After this, his cover of Gilbert and Sullivan's "When I Was A Lad" (from H.M.S. Pinafore) becomes a bonafide political song (a well-connected man manages to rise from petit-bureaucrat to the rank of admiral despite sheer incompetence and complete lack of relevant experience - a new themesong for George W.?). Laskin's humor is also showcased in "Cosmic and Freaky," which takes the traditional "Pleasant and Delightful" and updates it into a tongue-in-cheek New Age tale that uses every hippy cliché imported from south of the border, and "Macho Man," in which anthropologists discover the final Missing Link. The latter, a Lehrer-esque tune, doesn't sound dated at all.

One of the things that makes Laskin a pleasure to listen to is his straightforwardness. Unlike Bruce Cockburn, he never tries to be very poetic, never tries to disguise his intent. When he's telling a story, he tells a story; when he's being polemical, he makes his point, like "Shut Off the Power and Say Goodbye," which is basically his living will set to music. On the other hand, "Sewing Machines," a cover by Nancy White, is one of those well-intentioned, awful didactic labor songs that tries to do both. Neither the diction nor the tone really suit Laskin very well.

Through it all, connecting the plain, plainspoken tenor of the songs, are Laskin's Irish-inspired instrumentals, which shine with an uncomplicated joy. Fans of Laskin and of the Canadian folk revival will want to pick up this re-release. It's a bottle of unexpectedly good table wine.

-HB