Think On Me by Jean Redpath: A Folk Gem That’ll Stick With You Like Jam on Toast
If you’re into folk music that feels like a warm hug from your granny but with way more soul, Think On Me by Jean Redpath is the album for you. Released in 1998 under her own label (Jean Redpath Records—talk about boss energy), this record dives deep into traditional Scottish and British ballads, all while sprinkling in some Americana vibes. It’s like someone took a time machine to the old world, grabbed its heart, and brought it back to the US. And trust me, it works.
Let’s talk lineup real quick because this isn’t just Jean singing solo into a mic—oh no. She’s got backup royalty here: Abby Newton on cello making everything sound regal, Jay Ungar fiddling his way into your soul, Sue Richards adding harp magic to four tracks (including the dreamy “Eternal Surge Of The Sea”), Jacqueline Schwab tickling piano keys like they owe her money, and Jean herself strumming guitar and delivering vocals smoother than butter left out in July heat.
Now, let’s zoom in on two standout tracks that’ll have you hitting repeat faster than you can say "haggis."
First up, there’s “We’ll Go No More A-Roving.” This one hits different—it’s slow, deliberate, and kinda haunting, like when you realize you’ve lost your car keys at midnight during a snowstorm. Jean’s voice carries this weight of nostalgia mixed with resignation, as if she knows full well roving ain’t what it used to be. The sparse instrumentation gives space for her storytelling to shine, and honestly? By the end, I felt personally attacked in the best possible way. It’s not sad-sad; it’s more like bittersweet chocolate—rich, complex, and impossible to ignore.
Then we’ve got “Turn Ye To Me,” which might as well come with a warning label: “May Cause Uncontrollable Swooning.” The harp work by Sue Richards here is straight-up celestial, like angels decided to drop by and lend a hand. Jean’s vocals float over the melody like mist rolling off a Scottish loch at dawn. There’s something so tender about this track—it’s intimate without being cheesy, emotional without overdoing it. If you don’t feel at least a little verklempt after listening, check your pulse.
The rest of the album follows suit, blending classic tunes like “Mary of Argile” and “Love’s Old Sweet Song” with arrangements that make them feel fresh yet timeless. Tracks like “Lochnagar” will transport you straight to the Highlands, even if you’ve never been further north than Chicago. Meanwhile, “I’ll Walk Beside You” wraps things up with a gentle optimism that sticks to your ribs like a good stew.
Here’s the thing about Think On Me: it doesn’t try too hard to impress. Instead, it lets the songs do the talking, trusting their inherent beauty to speak for themselves. And honestly? That’s rare these days. Most albums scream for attention, but this one whispers—and somehow, that whisper echoes louder than any shout ever could.
So, would I recommend this album? Absolutely. But fair warning: once you dive in, don’t be surprised if you start dreaming in ballads or humming along to melodies older than your great-grandma’s secret pie recipe. Oh, and fun fact—I listened to this while trying to write an email once, and suddenly my subject line was “Ode to Forgotten Loves.” True story.
