V/A - When the Frog from the Well Sees the Ocean (Reports from English UFOlklore)

A Closer Listen

Can UFO sightings be considered folklore?  Jez Winship addresses this question in the opening paragraph of the booklet included with Folklore Tapes’ new LP, When the Frog from the Well Sees the Ocean (Reports from English UFOlklore).  Winship makes a good case, calling on connection to land, in particular Rendlesham Forest, the site of “Britain’s Roswell.”  If woodland fairies and spites are worthy of being called folkloric, why not aliens?  The famous “Earth Lights” have been identified as both.  And one must admit the portmanteau is exquisite.

Winship is a fine guide, describing a hoax in which aliens allegedly phoned from call boxes, emphasizing that there is “always room for doubt in science.”  He states that faith in extraterrestrial life often replaces faith in traditional religious systems, and that fiction and folklore can create feedback loops.  H.G. Wells and Klaatu get the requisite shoutouts.  The theory of a hole at the North Pole, however, is easy to dismiss, because everybody knows Santa lives there.

Ultimately, Winship concludes that there is “insufficient evidence” to call UFO studies folklore, although he also seems to allow it, as he does contribute a lengthy essay!  And if Folklore Tapes didn’t make up UFOlklore, we wouldn’t have this album, so we’re going to allow it too.  17 tracks offer 17 viewpoints, and while they won’t convince listeners that UFOs are real, they will remind listeners of the fun of speculation and wonder; and isn’t that what folklore is all about?

DBH begins with “A Sighting,” a violin imitating a theremin imitating an alien.  Mysterious noises enter mid-track, suggesting sparkling skies, more “Close Encounters” than “Alien.”  Thorn Wych offers the score to a disorienting experience in “Windy Hill,” starting in ceremonial fashion before adding whooshes and accelerations.  The couple is missing two hours; what happened?  Voices, yelps, radio waves, lasers and a final, disconcerting beep enter “July Aitee,” a speculation on the end of Friends of Friends.  Dean McPhee relays a story about another person who lost two hours, a retired police officer  in Ilkley Moor.  The music is plangent, a reflection of the “Second Message.”

Mark A Pilkington uses tape manipulation to recall an incident in which a meeting may have been faked; disorienting whispers suggest questioned memories.  The alien in question came from Venus and had “futuristic sofa seating.”  Paddy Steer covers a more recent encounter (2019), reflected in hand-hit drums and sixties synth, proving the earlier point that art imitates life imitates art.  “The Shape” uses a name for Michael Myers (who was not an alien), the odd organ music accompanied by a short story/memoir hybrid from O.G Jigg.

“The Mysterious Lights of Egryn” begins with mysterious sounds, a reminder that much of what humans think about aliens stems from film and TV, above all else, aliens seem to love synth.  This timbre dominates much of the recording, even when the sightings date back to the pre-synth era.  Otis Jordan’s piece references similar descriptions from schoolchildren in Wales and Zimbabwe. Are the similarities in sightings evidence of truth, or of shared artistic and folkloric influences?  “Sigil Waves” is a reminder that our radio waves are being beamed across the cosmos (albeit in greater clarity on Voyager), and that aliens may be as confused by us as we are by them.

Not only do we think it’s fair to include UFOs in folkloric discussions, we’d love to hear more.  The album brings back memories of old science fiction pulp novels, black-and-white movies, and late nights under the covers with a flashlight, reading UFO magazines purchased from the rack at the supermarket counter.  One doesn’t need to believe in order to enjoy.  (Richard Allen)

Available here