Practically every record was made to create or reach an audience. We are the intended targets of songs made with us in mind.
These recordings by Molly Drake are different. The songs here were never meant for public consumption. She had no ambition to be or become a recording artist. Their simplicity and beauty were honed in private. They are not weighed down by ambition. There’s a lightness of touch and lack of self-consciousness. The absence of intent strips the art of any artifice. This is the pure drop.
The recordings were made by her husband Rodney on a reel-to-reel tape machine in the family home in Warwickshire in the 1950s and 1960s. These are the quintessential songs from a room. The piano is the sole instrument. The intimacy of the setting is palpable. There is no distance between the singer and her song. You can feel the connection. Her word flow is measured and full of grace.
The songs are brief and starkly beautiful. The poetic lyrics are rooted in a love of nature and steeped in pathos. Their melancholic air is counterbalanced by stoicism. They are romantic too.
The fact this is Nick Drake’s mother adds several layers of magic.
There are striking similarities between his and her music. Aligning the two feels like an exercise in genetic mapping. Clues as to Nick’s musical lineage are omnipresent in Molly’s songs. The blood in the music has identical DNA. There’s a consistency of mood and tone, a lyrical feel for the natural world.
These recordings came to light with the release of the Family Tree compilation of home recordings. It's a second window into a single fascinating world. Documents this precious are rarely unearthed. It is revelatory.
