When listening to Mink Hollow Road, the latest release from The Mummers, melancholy is probably the last word that comes to mind. It is a sumptuous, sensual swoon of an album, all swirling strings and ebbing woodwind, with the sort of fantastical lyrics that have rendered comparisons with Lewis Carroll an occupational hazard. Yet, despite initial impressions, this is the work of a band still recovering from tragedy. In September 2009, only months after the release of the band’s début album Tale To Tell, band member and arranger Mark Horwood committed suicide.
It was, understandably a devastating blow from which the band are still recovering, but, as singer/songwriter Raissa Khan-Panni explains, continuing their signature sound was part of keeping his memory alive. “After Mark died I did write a lot of direct lyrics and very simple angsty songs as a kind of therapy. But after a while I thought this isn’t what The Mummers is about. We started the band as a way to make people – us – happy, and take them out of ordinary life. So that is how we used music again, to cheer us up.”
Instead of moody piano ballads or electro dissonance, Mink Hollow Road offers us a sound that is in many ways more fanciful than its predecessor. As Kahn-Panni explains, “we wanted it to be more uplifting and joyous than before and were influenced by MGM musicals of the 40s and 50s, Nelson Riddle’s string arrangements for the Rat Pack, John Barry’s film music.” With such a rich array of cited influences and the others that instantly spring to mind – Bjork in Raissa’s delicate vocals, Guillemots and Arcade Fire in the sheer orchestral ambition – it is unsurprising that Kahn-Panni herself describes their unabashed polyphony as “a motor pile-up of melody”.
The story of the Mummers begins long before their acclaimed début. Khan-Panni was raised in south London and spent her childhood studying classical music, playing the piano and the oboe. In her early teens she was bunking off school to busk, and from these precocious beginnings she went on to busk around Europe before studying Music at Bristol University. By 2000 she appeared to have arrived; she was signed to Polydor, her first album Believer was widely acclaimed and her single ‘How Long Do I Get’ received extensive airplay.
Yet by 2001 this promise appeared to collapse and Khan-Panni found herself waitressing full time in a Brixton restaurant. Such a fall from grace must have been difficult, but when I ask whether she ever considered giving up on music Khan-Panni is upbeat: “I’ve had amazing times and hard times… but I’ve never thought of giving up. When I was dropped from my label all those years ago, it inspired me to go and collaborate with underground beats and sounds which was an exciting challenge at the time, plus I knew something better was to come…”
Khan-Panni’s instinct was proved right when her former collaborator Paul Sandrone passed one of her recordings to orchestral composer Mark Horwood. He gave it an orchestral arrangement and, although it took more than a year for Khan-Panni and Horwood to meet, the seed for The Mummers was planted. The trio collaborated to create Tale to Tell, the band’s name inspired by their ever-changing line up of musicians. The resulting recording is opulent and escapist in the best possible way, like an evening on the waltzers or an MGM spectacular.
Even in the years of limbo Khan-Panni never stopped writing, composing lyrics in her head whilst waiting tables. Unsurprisingly she cites “big orchestral music, such as Mahler, my favourite composer, the weather, certain movies and musicals, Rickie Lee Jones…” as inspiration, but she admits she has to block out reality to write, an interesting reflection on the groups famously escapist quality. I wonder if she dislikes the labels of “fantasy” and childlike” that are so often applied, but she remains sanguine. “I don’t really see myself as childlike… I don’t think I could have written this stuff when I was younger. It is escapist, yes, but we still have dreams as adults, they are just more complex”.
This last point seems especially valid. Although fantasy is often perceived as childish, nostalgia is a peculiarly adult concept. When I ask Kahn-Panni what she thinks of the current scene she is tactful but admits “I do think British music needs to be shaken up… for someone to do something really big and daring.” Listening to The Mummers on a rainy afternoon I can’t help if Khan-Panni and her ensemble might just provide that breath of fresh air we so desperately need.