Sandy Denny

For some it was Hendrix or Joplin, Morrison or (for a later generation) Garcia or Jackson.  A musician’s death that put an end to some personal sense of an era, a tragic and premature passing that left them in tears.

For me it was Sandy Denny.  She was a beautiful woman with an even more beautiful voice, and there was always a hint of tragedy in her voice and sorrow in her eyes.  I remember the announcement of her death in 1978 almost as clearly as I remember a chilly Berkeley night four years earlier, the only night that I ever haunted a backstage door, a single red rose under my black cloak, while I waited for a chance to kiss Sandy’s hand.

Something about Alexandra Elene MacLean Denny (1947-1978) continues to inspire a sense of personal connexion in many of her fans, most of whom just call her Sandy, and has inspired countless musicians over the years.  Her early song ‘Who Knows Where The Time Goes?’ is one of the most -covered songs in modern folk music.  Now Universal Music has collected very nearly every existing recording of her work into one immense package.  19 CDs, a poster and a book, featuring a fine brief biography and some insightful tributes from the diverse likes of Richard Thompson, Maddy Prior, John Renbourne, Judy Collins, Dave Cousins and Robert Plant.

To those of us who know her work already, much of this collection is familiar ground.  Her classic solo albums are included, along with demo tracks and first takes; her two albums at the helm of Fotheringay are here, and every last track she recorded with Fairport Convention.  Even her early recordings with the Strawbs are present here, and the rock and roll standards she sang with her single-album project The Bunch,  covering ‘That’ll Be The Day’, ‘When Will I Be Loved’, and the like.  About all that’s missing is a few guest tracks, mostly for reasons of licensing, like her stunning counterpoint with Plant on Led Zeppelin’s ‘Battle of Evermore’.

Less readily recognised is the live performance by Fairport at the L.A. Troubadour in 1974, of which only a few tracks have previously been released in other collections.  And for those of us who felt that a couple of her later solo albums were overproduced, there is the treat of finally getting a chance to hear the bare-bones songs before the strings were added.

We will never know, of course, what Sandy Denny might have accomplished if she had not died so early.  She was something of an artistic chameleon, trying style after style in an effort to achieve a wider recognition than she ever did in life.  And there never was a style she set her skills to that she didn’t make her own.  Listening to several renditions of ‘Who Knows Where The Time Goes?’ in this collection, from the earliest version with the Strawbs in ’67 to her final concert recording in November of ’77, I find myself realising that she never seems to sing any song the same way twice.  She reinvents it afresh with every recording, every performance.  Some versions seem to work better than others:  but what impresses me is the endless artistic integrity of her effort to create, the refusal to take the easy path of repetition, the unceasing honesty she put into each performance.

Priced at $250 and change, Sandy Denny, a limited-edition collection, is not for the faint of heart.  But for anyone interested in an in-depth view of the all-too-brief career of this mercurial, influential performer, it’s well worth the investment.

Sometimes, as I’ve contemplated a few musicians who kept on producing worse and worse material in their declining years – rehashing old triumphs and taking no chances – I think perhaps the gods choose to take some bright lights early, before their stars can begin to set.  If so, I trust They are giving Sandy Denny an endless round of applause.

(Universal Music, 2010)