HEAVY MUSIC HISTORY: England Keep My Bones – Frank Turner
English patriotism has got a bit of a bad rep in the past few years. Ever since the Brexit debate, the very concept of it has been repeatedly hijacked and manipulated by bad faith actors and far right groups. Nowadays, it’s easy to look at anyone who waves the national flag and start wondering if they might be hiding an unpleasant agenda, even if their motives are entirely innocent. Which is why it’s a good time to revisit FRANK TURNER’s excellent England Keep My Bones.
The former MILLION DEAD man’s fourth solo album is a cheerfully upbeat love letter to England. For FRANK, England is a land of folk music, pub dinners, countryside walks, and rich history. There’s not a single mention of “taking our country back” or attempts to demonise refugees, and it’s beautiful. England Keep My Bones almost feels like a throwback; a shamelessly positive depiction of this sceptred isle and a timely reminder that patriotism doesn’t automatically have to include hate.
It also captured him at something of a crossroads. His previous album – 2009’s Poetry Of The Deed – was a huge hit, and led to widespread acclaim. It led to several major support slots, including a stadium tour alongside GREEN DAY, not to mention a headline show at the 2000 TREES festival and a cover feature in Kerrang! In that light, he could have been forgiven for just carrying on as normal to keep the momentum going, but there was a problem; he wasn’t the underdog anymore. He couldn’t exactly write lyrics about life as a struggling musician when he was being championed by BBC Radio 1, so what now?
Taking inspiration from his experience of “being the only English person in the room” whilst on tour, and his interest in traditional folk music, he wrote (arguably) the best album of his career thus far. As of 2026, England Keep My Bones is only fifteen years old, but it has an almost timeless quality. If it didn’t reference the Norman invasion, you could even imagine it being performed at the coronation of King Alfred the Great. It carries the heritage of ye olde English folk song with a spirited, working-class vibe and bittersweet honesty. Yes, Frank is posher than Joe Strummer (he studied at Eton alongside Prince William), but his feet are planted firmly on the ground. Send him into a flat roof pub on a Friday evening with nothing but an acoustic guitar and a microphone and he won’t have to buy a single round all night.
Stick the album on now and it’ll be immediately obvious why. The introductory Eulogy is less than two minutes long but condenses a distinctly English sentimentality into its short runtime. It starts with a whimsical melody that evokes flat caps, cobblestone streets, and carrying loaves of bread across Yorkshire, before Frank declares “everyone can raise a glass and sing.” Then it leads into Peggy Sang The Blues, and he gives us the best post-Quiz-Night singalong in years. It’s a raucous, lively number that’ll plaster a massive smile across any Glastonbury-attendee’s face.
And that grin only gets wider with I Still Believe, a love letter to hanging out with your mates and reminiscing over a pint. It’s a track about friends, Romans, countrymen, punks, skins, journeymen, and anyone that gets misty-eyed when thinking about the albums they loved as a youth. It’s a belter, and it’s got one of the most cheerful harmonica solos you’ll hear this side of Beale Street.
But the patriotic fervour really comes to the fore on Rivers. It’s a deeply evocative and sentimental number, the musical equivalent of idly walking the banks of the Thames and picnicking with the cast of WIND IN THE WILLOWS. It could only be more English if he stopped on the border of Devon and Cornwall mid-song and had an argument about the correct way to make scones.
Elsewhere, there’s a spoken word history lesson in English Curse, a quietly heartbreaking post-breakup lament in Redemption, and a lads-returning-home anthem in Wessex Boy. The record tells of his life experiences against a backdrop of national exploration, and that gives it a distinctive strength. Frank has created a very personal album, but the themes are universal. Anyone that spent their teenage years hanging around outside Sports Direct waiting for their mates to show up or went on a Centre Parcs holiday to get over an ex will relate to this.
But for all the whimsy and cheeky-chappy larks, FRANK TURNER is a punk at heart. A very well-educated one maybe, but a punk nonetheless. Try listening to the closing Glory Hallelujah and say otherwise. This climactic anti-gospel song is the sort of brutally atheistic track that only a former choirboy could write. It’s the sound of a young boy who got dragged out of bed to listen to sermons one too many times and is riddled with cynicism, but it’s presented in such a gleeful way that you can’t help laughing at it. He’s figured out the perfect way to offend the evangelical community and is enjoying every second.
Not that this closing statement triggered any significant backlash against the record. It rode a wave of positive reviews to debut at number 12 on the UK album charts, the highest position he’d achieved up until that point. Worldwide tours and a string of festival dates followed, along with a headline show at London’s Wembley Arena and even an appearance on the official soundtrack to the 2012 London Olympics Opening Ceremony. If Poetry Of The Deed took him out of the underground, England Keep My Bones pushed him up a mountain. By the close of 2012, FRANK TURNER was the folk-punk troubadour of choice for thousands; he’d become a mainstage performer who seemed like the sort of lad you could play pool with at a Camden bar.
England Keep My Bones left a lasting mark on his career. It produced a lot of fan favourites, was the first time his backing band were referred to as THE SLEEPING SOULS and it turned him into a key player of the UK music scene. But perhaps, the most refreshing thing about it when playing it back now, is how nice it is. From the Shakespeare-referencing title to the cider raising choruses, England Keep My Bones is a charming slice of jack-the-lad patriotism. There is genuine love and affection for his home in these songs, and it’s more affecting than tying St. George’s flags to a thousand lampposts.
Apparently, it didn’t do that well in Scotland though. No idea why.
England Keep My Bones was originally released on June 6th, 2011 via Xtra Mile Recordings.
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