Having previously been dubbed with epithets such as "the Jimi Hendrix of the acoustic guitar" and been acknowledged as a crucial influence by the well-respected likes of Neil Young and Jimmy Page, it's no overstatement to say artists don't come much more influential than Glasgow-born, Edinburgh-raised guitar wizard BERT JANSCH.
Remarkably, the man himself has also survived for a staggering four decades in this notoriously fickle industry, and while his stock fell for a while during the dreaded 1980s and early 1990s, the quality of his art rarely fell away accordingly. Thus, this excellent introductory collection (spanning 1965 - 2002 via 21consistent and well-chosen tracks) is as good a potted history for the uninitiated as you could hope to compile.
Perversely, the running order has been pieced together in reverse chronological order, but for the review's sake, it's essential to start at the end, with the tracks culled from Jansch's still utterly crucial early folk albums from the mid-to-late '60s. To this end, we get Jansch's seminal reworking of Davy Graham's "Angie" (formerly "Anji"), where his rippling arpeggios and unearthly dexterity still send shivers down the spine; the pretty Celtic strains of "Blackwaterside" which would provide artistic food for thought for both Ann Briggs and Jimmy Page and the sad, plaintive self-penned folk of "Running From Home" itself.
All of these are fabulous, but given a run for their money by selections from Jansch's late '60s albums such as "Woe Is Love My Dear" and "Poison". The former is taken from the 1967 album "Nicola" and finds Jansch succumbing - strangely successfully - to David Palmer's lush orchestration a la Phil Ochs, while "Poison" finds Jansch in harness with Danny Thompson and Terry Cox from Jansch and John Renbourne's seminal folk-rock combo Pentangle and delivering a fierce eco anthem years ahead of its' time.
Pentangle's Danny Thompson also gets a look in on the lugubrious "Sally Free And Easy", while Jansch's quirk-addled, but pretty great reworking of Ewan McColl's "The First Time I Ever Saw Your Face" (1973) finds him duetting with Apple Records star/ Tony Visconti's missus Mary Hopkin. That pairing might sound strange, but so - to most of us - would be the idea of Bert Jansch the competent pianist as he proves to be on the brief instrumental "Lapwing" (from 1979's ornithologically-obsessive album "Avocet").
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Moving forward again to the 1980s and early 1990s, tracks such as the trad.arr "The Mountain Streams" and the impressive, banjo-led "Sweet Rose In The Garden" suggest that while Jansch's commercial moon might have been waning, his creative star remained firmly in the ascendent, while the album's clutch of tracks from the late 1990s and early 21st Century (i.e the period of Bert's ongoing renaissance) find his confidence and diversity of material again rich and attractive, ranging from the strident rock'n'roll of "On The Edge Of A Dream", through the mellow and jazzy "Crimson Moon" and the blues-y "Looking For Love" which features Jansch playing some rare electric guitar.
Although a whistlestop anthology collection such as "Running From Home..." can only ever reveal the tip of a truly humongous dreative iceberg where an artist of this calibre is concerned, it's nevertheless an excellent calling card and the best possible way of getting acquainted with one of the most single-minded musical figures of the past 40 years. Get this first, move on to "Bert Jansch" and "It Don't Bother Me" and take it from there. I doubt you'll be disappointed.
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