Timeless Thompson

A beret-wearing Sufi with a neat line in acerbic put downs, Richard Thompson continues to skirt the margins of mainstream acceptance 45 years into a critically lauded career. One of the most accomplished songwriters and guitarists the country has ever produced, few tap into the same vein of distinctly English pessimism quite as effectively. Though the establishment is currently doing its best to herald the imposing expatriate as a reluctant national treasure, last year awarding him both an honorary doctorate and OBE, the masses remain oblivious to his talent. Fortunately, Thompson is by now accustomed to his artistic highs and commercial lows; as long as the likes of Tom Jones and Counting Crows continue to cover his work, the royalties are sure to come flooding in. His own records merely sate the appetite of a rabid, steadily expanding fanbase. For any newcomers intimidated by the breadth of the man's back catalogue, his upcoming date at the Queen’s Hall should prove a safe entry point.

Thompson made a name for himself as a founding member of Fairport Convention. While their earliest incarnation peddled a derivative take on US West Coast psyche , there was enough in the teenager’s prodigious guitar work to convince fledgling producer Joe Boyd that he should take them under his wing. The offerings that followed saw the group undergo marked artistic growth. Arrangements took on subtler, more ambitious tones, while their lyrics began to match and even surpass those of the covers in their repertoire. 1969’s Liege and Lief in particular stands as an unimpeachable, visionary work. By fusing traditional British folk with the electric energy of rock ‘n’ roll, the band asserted themselves as forward-looking revivalists and invented a new genre in the process. One of its leading exponents, Thompson has continued to dabble in folk-rock ever since.

Always a dependable live performer, Thompson’s shows are characterised by dazzling musical virtuosity, arresting lyrics and a mordant sense of humour. His vocals are harsh and passionate, while the dexterity with which he navigates a fret board is genuinely astonishing. It’s not unusual for first-timers to be left stunned and humbled by the depth of his talents, while enough surprises are pulled out to ensure that veterans always come back for more. With over 20 albums to his name, the sexagenarian has no shortage of material to draw upon, though remains as prolific as ever. On his return to the Fringe, he is expected to preview tracks from an upcoming release recorded in Nashville with country lynchpin Buddy Miller. Though unlikely to be a radical departure from his previous work, each new Thompson album builds upon the last and is an expansion on the themes and concerns laid out by the artist at the onset of his career. While age has mellowed countless elder statesmen, Thompson’s vision and aesthetic sensibilities have grown clearer with time. The increasing intensity of his live performances suggests that his best work may be yet to come.

Though not a nostalgic man, tradition and a sense of national identity have always played an important part in Thompson’s work. An aborted early solo career and flurry of albums recorded with his first wife Linda saw him break from Fairport’s agenda. With other acts such as Steeleye Span having assumed the task of revitalising the past, he applied his focus to romanticising and dignifying the present. Old musical forms and points of reference provided an interesting context for the artist’s increasingly bleak lyrics, lending their subject matter weight and emphasising the continued relevance of certain social issues. Many of Thompson’s best loved compositions were written in this mould. The heartbreaking ‘End of the Rainbow’, allegedly addressed to his first child, warned of a strangely recognisable world in which “tycoons and barrow boys will rob you… [where] there’s nothing to grow up for anymore.” More recently, 2010’s 'Sidney Wells' is a graphic murder ballad concerning a predatory, truck driving serial killer who comes to a bloody end in prison. Plenty of folk artists write their own material, but Thompson's compositions are rare in that they sound like standards from the first moment you hear them.

As Thompson immersed himself in Islamic mysticism, his increasingly economical guitar playing strove for transcendence. This quality can be heard in much of his subsequent work, even as he rebranded himself an archly vengeful Elvis Costello type specialising in acidic ruminations on romance. Indeed, Thompson’s most creditable characteristic is his refusal to record an indulgent solo, each note instead seeming integral to the composition of the song as a whole. He avoids cliché on all fronts and even survived a spell as a prestige artist on a major label where he was subjected to glossy production work and garish sleeve art, his dignity very much intact. Now thriving on independent labels, having returned to his ragged roots, Thompson has survived a lifetime of restless creativity and promises to deliver one of the highlights of the Fringe's musical calendar.