Jeni and Billy – Longing For Heaven (Jewell Ridge Records)
Last year at Beverley Folk Festival I fell in love.
Sitting in the Saturday afternoon American Party, whisky in hand, buddy by my side I witnessed the force (though force is a far too aggressive word for it) of Jeni Hankins and Billy Kemp (Jeni and Billy).
Jeni and Billy are a too-good-to-be-true duo from Virginia and Baltimore respectively. Except – squeak – they are true (I know because I followed them around for the rest of the afternoon muttering “pleasebereal, pleasebereal, pleasebereal” under my breath). During an afternoon of tongue-in-cheek old Americana from dear Curtis Eller and the amazing Gandalf Murphy, their authenticity shone through like a holy light.
Modest and funny, the duo had the crowd in the palm of their hand with their simple songs of love, poverty and mountain homes. Jeni Hankins has a voice that nobody would describe as perfect but soaked in Godliness and dripping with emotion and Billy is her perfect, unassuming accompaniment.
Their latest album – Longing For Heaven – plopping on my doormat this morning has given me more joy than I can express and if I seem hyperbolic it’s because That’s What They Do To You.
Featuring a number of traditional songs from the Appalachians, some hymns and a couple of original numbers, the record was made “in the mountains of Western North Carolina in the dead of winter.” It’s exactly what this fan needed after I’d bored my household rigid with their debut Sweet And Toxic.
It doesn’t disappoint, from the gorgeous 50s fabric-and-Americana CD artwork (by Jeni, naturally) to the saccharine essay on heaven at the end which, from anyone else would be unbearable but from her is just fine. “Heaven, I imagine,” she says, “will be full of people I love. Not only are there walls of jasper and streets of gold, as they promise in the old hymns, but everyone you ever loved will be waiting for you there.” Sniff.
The original tracks, such as the deliriously catchy If I Ever Get Ten Dollars and While I Stay At Home And Weep (replete with my new favourite word “prayhaps”) blend effortlessly with the traditional numbers (their arrangement of the hymn Longing For Heaven is just gorgeous), feeling like old favourites within about one listen.
This pair does what nostalgia fetishists try and fail at doing and they manage effortlessly simply because they are the real deal.
I have owned this album for less than a day and already I am willing to throw most of my others out (apart from the Springsteen, obviously).
Hazel Davis
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