The way that Cohen Braithwaite-Kilcoyne, squeezebox player with Granny’s Attic, tells it, his interest in the crossover between English folk music and the musical tradition of the Caribbean was piqued on a holiday to Barbados to visit family. That holiday has led to a fascination with the moment of intersection, the gentle passing back and forth of musical moments. It has led to Braithwaite-Kilcoyne’s third solo album, Play Up the Music!
There is no doubt that this record is infused with the spirit of both places. It is honest and playful, as much real ale and rum and coke.
The first single from the album, Tacoma’s Song, is the perfect postcard from paradise. Braithwaite-Kilcoyne’s voice is strong, his English folk stylings slightly mannered, while his dextrous melodeon playing adds the Jamaican-influenced, it has a jaunty, infectious upbeat optimism. The song, itself, has contrasting sides to it too. A close relative of The Keys of Canterbury [Roud 573], it starts with denial and rejection before pivoting, at the end, to acceptance and affection. Braithwait-Kilcoyne is comfortable with both, handles both with a devilish wink and the grin of a man who knows how this particular story ends.
There’s a tension there, it’s like dragging a reluctant Englishman onto a dancefloor
There are other moments when the familiar is given a lick of bright-yellow paint too. Sweet William and Lady Margaret [Roud 253, Child 74] was collected by Cecil Sharp, has been sung by A.L. Lloyd and Ewan MacColl and is a canonical work for English folk. It has, also, been found repeatedly in the American South and seventeen versions were collected by Sharp in the Appalachians. Braithwait-Kilcoyne imbues it with a slightly melancholy spirit but, once again, his concertina playing offsets hovering ghosts. If anything, it is almost as though the word-y storytelling trips the tune itself up. The fuss of the story doesn’t quite sit with the slightly skittish tune. Maybe it is this that is the heart of this album; there are two opposing spirits that don’t always sit comfortably. There’s a tension there, it’s like dragging a reluctant Englishman onto a dancefloor (but knowing that he’ll love it once he’s there).
Outlandish Knight [Roud 21, Child 4] suffers from a similar tension but, here, the melodeon entirely saves the day. There’s a wonderful variation across the song, at times there’s a gentleness, at others those bellows are fully exercised, a full sail strung behind the words.
There are several moments on Play Up the Music! when the lines between folk music and Calypso are sharply drawn. Perhaps it is the “smiling while the world falls apart” nature of the very best songs by Lord Kitchener et al, but Braithwaite-Kilcoyne relentlessly pursues the upbeat even when things look bleak. Hangman Slack on the Line [Roud 144, Child 95], aka Maid Freed from the Gallows, starts by looking as though everything has gone wrong but ends with redemption. The melodeon reminds you that a happy ending was never in doubt, of course. The melodeon on The Highway Robber puts wings beneath those horses’ hooves to safely carry the maid away. While the words might carry foreboding, the tune never does.

It is in the tunes that Braithwaite-Kilcoyne best shows the way that the English and the Caribbean meet. Row, Row, Nanny! / Crow, Nanny, Crow! are taken from Bajan playground games and are impossibly feel-good. The melodeon leading the listener by the hand, dancing ring-a-rosies, fizzing like sherbet. You can almost see the coast of Southern America, almost hear the faint Cajun echoes in the squeezebox. On Miss Bailey the melodeon becomes a fairground Wurlitzer with all of the queasy joy that that entails. The wonky melody drifts across a packed beach.
For all of the high-spirited mixing of cultures it is, possibly, when Braithwaite-Kilcoyne relaxes that Play Up the Music! is most successful. On Little Musgrove [Roud 52, Child 81], aka Matty Groves, the melodeon is used more as a guide than as an instrument to allow the song to gallop along, the melody is softer, more gentle, and is taken from Martha Beckwith’s 1924 article, The English Ballad in Jamaica. His voice has an openness, a reflectiveness, a sweetness that is not always obvious. It’s a voice that sounds like home.
Cohen Braithwaite-Kilcoyne has been at the heart of so many important projects over the last few years. Granny’s Attic continue to make wonderful traditional music, Stolen From God is raising important issues and, now, Play Up the Music! pulls together strands from England and the Caribbean. He is helping to put Black voices at the centre of folk music and, for that, must be applauded.
Play Up the Music! is available now on CD and digital from Cohen Braithwaite-Kilcoyne’s Bandcamp.