From Singing Out of Car Windows to My First Record – by Heather Cartwright
📷 Photo above by Nicky Murray
Let me tell you a little bit about Janey, the subject for the final track of this EP. Janey used to stick her head out of the car window in the backseat and sing at the top of her lungs into the wind, and the wind would wisp it away, carrying it right up into the ether the moment that the sound left her lips, as though it never happened. She and the wind had an understanding. The reality of this was that her parents were biting their tongue in the front seat wondering why their child was belting Tomorrow from Annie out of the window. You might have guessed already, but Janey is the term of endearment my mother used for me when I was younger based off of my middle name, Jane; this song is a letter to my past, present and future self all in one. It’s safe to say that Janey has come a long way from singing out of car windows, anyway.
Despite Janey’s shyness when it came to singing, I don’t remember her that way. In fact, I remember her to be quite boisterous at times, top of her class in character building, taught mostly by her two older brothers; she did everything with conviction and took to any task with not an inkling of self-doubt. At what point does all this change? Shouldn’t we simultaneously be gaining confidence and life experiences in equal measure? Self-confidence, of course, ebbs and flows. It happens to us like the seasons, and some seasons are harsher than others. This song is all about carrying that child-like lack of self-consciousness into adulthood, as well as being simply an ode to a memorable and carefree childhood, to which I will be ever grateful for.
“Oh Janey, the sun rises and sets with you,
Oh Janey, with what your mother and your father told you.
—
Oh Janey be but little she is fierce,
I carry less of her with every passing year,
She’s happy in her hand-me-downs, keeping up with her brothers,
Growing cleverer and kinder in the warm glow of the summer”
An extract from Janey, written by Heather Cartwright
My guitar style has shifted over the years. I come from a background in solo finger-style guitar, but since moving to Glasgow I have picked up more traditional styles of playing such as flat picking, which you can hear in the track, Haystacks. At the end, you can hear my first crack at using improvisation in a studio recording, as I’m usually more in the category of mapping out my parts in a lot of detail beforehand. I’d been implementing improvisation into my practice, often by just putting on a drone and improvising melodies over it and varying the keys each session, and I can really see how this has improved my fluency up the fretboard over time. The process with these things is really slow but really satisfying when it starts to pay off; I like that this track is now a snapshot into my development in this area of my playing. Haystacks is named after one of my favourite places in the Lake District, not too far from my home in Cumbria, and the march that comes before that is named Goodnight Glasgow, a tribute to my current home.
The Blackest Crow is a traditional Appalachian folk song, although its exact origins are unknown. It’s quite possible that it originated from older Scottish and English ballads and taken over to America by early settlers. Some of the lyrics were found in letters and diaries dating back to the American Civil War (1861-1865), indicating the song’s presence in America during this time. I think knowing that these lyrics of loss and separation resonated so deeply with people during the civil war, enough for them to write them in their war diaries, adds so much to the meaning of these words to me.
“As time draws near my dearest dear when you and I must part,
How little you know of the grief and woe, in my poor aching heart,
’Tis but I suffer for your sake, believe me dear it’s true,
I wish that you were staying here, or I was going with you”
An extract from The Blackest Crow, trad.
Video: Duo Version of The Blackest Crow
The themes of loss and separation drip down into the next track, Lost Lula, composed by Jason and Pharis Romero. According to an online forum, the tune was written for their dog that disappeared into the woods and never came back, hence the wandering nature of the tune. I am often drawn to old-time American melodies for their laid back, melancholy undertones, and very fortunately indeed, two of my good friends Josiah Duhlstine (cello) and Madeleine Stewart (fiddle) happen to be both brilliant and American and bring the perfect old-time feel to these tracks. The other musicians making my arrangements so special are Sam Mabbett (accordion), Dan Brown (piano), Beth Malcolm (vocals), Callum Convoy (Bodhran) and Chris Waite, who recorded and mixed this EP so beautifully.
Photo taken at Gran’s House Studio, September 2024 (left to right: Dan Brown, Sam Mabbett, Callum Convoy, Chris Waite)
EP cover: Lino print by Heather Cartwright
The artwork is a three-layer Lino print which depicts the Blackest Crow and Lula meeting each other in the forest and finding companionship in each other. One of the things that isn’t necessarily obvious when you meet me but is obvious when looking at my creations is that I’m quite the romantic. I recently recorded a song of mine which is about the Mars Rover (Opportunity, 2004-2018), the details of which stopped me in my tracks. Opportunity was only predicted to live for three months but instead lived for fourteen years. The song talks of a lonely Mars Rover on an enormous planet all by himself who dreams about being best friends with Neil Armstrong – also pretty romantic, right? Keep your eyes peeled for that release later in the year.
In other news, I’m currently working on an album of guitar duets, each track featuring a different guitar player, with the intention of learning from and collaborating with some of my favourite players. Until then, my EP is available on Bandcamp.
