MICK MCSHANE is roused by a band whose socialism laces every line of every song with commitment and raw passion
LILLA PENNANT’S real-life stories from the remote north Wales villages of Tremeirchion and Sodom — drawn from conversations she had with old residents back in the 1970s and ‘80s — have about them the faint whiff of witchcraft and paganism, allied to a nicely crafted atmosphere of rain and wind on the hillsides and moors thereabouts.
What they don’t have, though, is a great deal of substance. Despite vague allusions to long-held secrets that Pennant might be able to uncover, nothing much is ever revealed, at least in terms of old-time magic or druidic practices.
The best we get is tales of herbal medicine and tea-leaf reading, allied to details of the lives of a series of eccentric, strong women.

PETER MASON is enthralled by an assembly of objects, ancient and modern, that have lain in the mud of London’s river


