In Trunk's catalog are many bizarre treats. The label has issued obscure soundtracks, musique concrète by an ex-Spitfire pilot, poetic porn, tunes from forgotten children's TV shows and much more. Now comes their very first CD release of easy listening sunshine pop adaptations of Church of England hymns, which has long enjoyed a cultish following and bootlegged life since its original 1960s release. These swinging arrangements of traditional melodies are amusing, perplexing creations; they are by turns delighful and repulsive.
Originally issued on Davjon Records (a small label with negligible distribution), the rarity of Hymns A Swinging is a major reason for its legendary status. Trunk has previously issued a couple of tracks from this album on the sampler Resurrection: The Amplified Bible of Heavenly Grooves, but hearing the entire album is an unmissable experience.
The image provided of The Mike Sammes Singers is a magnificent depiction of buttoned-up bygone glamor and total repression. The men that make up the band have greased back short-back-and-sides haircuts, neckties peeping from under V-necked sweaters, and ample trousers revealing nothing. The women wear tight-waisted floral frocks and their hair is barely softer than Vera Lynn's stiff wartime hairdo. The voices of the group are precise and playful yet pure. They're very adept with advertising jingles, some of which can be heard on their album Music For Biscuits, also reissued by Trunk. Their "Timex" jingle is a personal favorite.
Hymns A'Swinging opens with The Ted Tayor Organsound laying down a chunky groove that might have been dropped off a British version of a Blacksploitation flick. When the singers enter, though, the mood of the song is abruptly altered; I laughed and almost snorted the bone out of my nose once they began. Indeed, anyone catching a glimpse of me stuck in traffic listening to the remainder of that track, "Harvest Home," and the next couple ("Hills of The North" and "40 Days and 40 Nights") might have been concerned that I had slipped into a waking coma, was researching mouth-breathing techniques, or accidentally revisiting a horrible nightmare. After a few listens I've been able to revisit the record and appreciate it for more than the humor it provides. Now Irelish the bongo fury and jazz flute on "All Things Bright And Beautiful" which also includes tight echoey guitar in the style of "Summer Holiday" and jabbering soprano scat and syrupy tenor voices. It wouldn't surprise me, however, if someone were to mistake parts of the album for a dull children's record gone horribly wrong.
There are sublime moments amidst the ridiculous ones, however. The breaks on "Immortal Invisible God Only Wise" are truly unbelievable and Len Clarke's spritely crisp drumming won me over very quickly. It's worth noting that the Ted Taylor Organsound also features the talents of jazz legend Tubby Hayes on tenor sax and flute. Ike Issacs, Clive Hicks, and Cedric West take turns on the guitar and Mike Nottingham's bass parts also fit the bill. Mercifully, Ted Taylor doesn't ram his organ into every available space, for which we might all be grateful.
I would even claim that the jumble of styles found on this record form a match made in heaven... or a match made in the mixed-up, post-war world of England. The charm of the Church of Engand—despite its origins in Henry VIII's land and power grab—is that it may often be considered the least dogmatic of all organized religions. In my experience most Church of England vicars would sooner discuss jam and gardening than Jesus and God. Many might react with mild surprise to the idea that some people believe in a literal seven day creation story, miracles, and resurrection. Maybe it's a healthy aversion to talking about work or perhaps a modest caution, but those vicars seem less at ease with life after death than with tea and cake. Culturally disinclined to consider, say, abortion or sexuality, their moral reasoning is usually preserved for such topics as Test Match cricket and town planning. When pressed, one such dog-collared fellow once mentioned to me that perhaps we humans are like tadpoles, with the opportunity to one day become...well... frogs. An enduring image, of sorts.
The real merit of Hymns A' Swinging is that the whole project has a charming light touch which transforms these hymns from the Church of England songbook. It's as if they might have been born to submit to the arrangements of a music director like David Moses. An element of shock is also present: when listening to any of the intros to these tracks it's impossible to guess what the song will be. As with all Trunk releases, my advice is to throw caution to the wind, believe in your ears, and let yourself be transported to a different place. An alternate title for this, arguably the most outrageous Trunk release yet, might be Music For Tadpoles, then.
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