Hex is the second album from the group from the Scottish Highlands & Islands who won the Up and Coming Artist of the Year title at the MG Alba Scots Trad Music Awards last year.
Two years on from their first release, Hex features an expanded, six-piece line-up with Highland pipes, Border pipes, accordion, fiddle and whistles buoyed by a crisp rhythm section that confidently draws on rock, pop, funk and Caribbean grooves to create a powerful sound.
Instrumentally Hò-rò pack an assurance and high level of skill that seems to come as standard with young Scottish bands these days, with accordionist Calum MacPhail showing particular skill and excitement in his phrasing as tune sets such as Elliot Finn grow from pub session intimacy to stadium rock-like anthemic grandeur and intensity.
If the songs – two each in Gaelic and English – and singing aren’t quite so well developed, they still carry a certain charm and Lucy Doogan’s delivery of a song, Muinntir mo Ghráidh, which was discovered in her late grandmother’s attic, is a lovely, honestly sung addition.
From Songlines, July 2018
Named for the West Lochaber area where they played their first gig twenty years ago last month, The Rough Bounds finds Daimh in rude good health.
Currently a six-piece, with recent arrival, Lewis-born fiddler Alasdair White joining the three remaining original members, Angus Mackenzie (pipes), Gabe McVarish (fiddle) and Ross Martin (guitar), singer Ellen MacDonald and accordionist-mandola player Murdo Cameron, they present a sound here that’s instrumentally rich and sensitive to the needs of the Gaelic songs at the heart of their music.
A humorous key gives a visual guide to the songs’ content, with much heartbreak, some homesickness and the occasional punch-up, and MacDonald’s fine singing is supported on two tracks by illustrious backing vocalists including Kathleen MacInnes and Calum Alex MacMillan.
The group is confidently and thrillingly self-sufficient, however, as the pipes and fiddles intro to strathspey and reels set Mary’s Fancy illustrates with the sheer physicality and rhythmical strength of the musicianship. Elsewhere, there’s a train-like sound to the fiddles on the Donald MacLeod Reels that’s superseded by a locomotive-like momentum on whistles and pipes, and a contrastingly restrained quality to the majestic closing air, Chi mi’n Toman.
From The Herald, June 16, 2018
Inspired by the chapel created by Italian prisoners of war that has become Orkney’s most visited tourist attraction, this suite marks a departure in some senses for the Skye-based composer, accordionist, keyboards player, Blair Douglas.
Its form and instrumentation, featuring largely harp, violin, viola, cello and flute, might be different from some of Douglas’ other work, which won him the Scots Trad Music Awards Composer of the Year title in 2008, but the actual notes are yet another example of his ability to capture places and people with soulful feeling.
There are also tunes here that will surely be picked up by other performers, including the waltz for the man responsible for most of the chapel’s interior decoration, the lovely Lamb Holm Addio and both the march played by the City of Kirkwall Pipe Band and the solo pipe tune that closes the piece.
That Douglas is affected by the prisoners’ personal stories as much as their efforts is clear but equally impressive is his command of material, including a choral hymn, in bringing it all together with a unity of purpose in a handsome package designed by his wife, Marion.
From The Herald, June 2, 2018
Fiddle and guitar partnerships don’t get much more mutually responsive than the Northumberland-Edinburgh axis of Stewart Hardy and Frank McLaughlin. Both players draw on a range of techniques and a great variety of touch and attack to deliver their shared passion for a good melody, more often than not with a story attached.
There’s a lovely richness of expression in Hardy’s fiddling and he uses this to superb effect whether the tune is essentially joyful, wild or written in sadness. On Something for Gordon, for example, he plays Ross Ainslie and Jarlath Henderson’s tribute to the great piper and tunesmith Gordon Duncan with a respectfulness of someone who has really got into the thoughts of the composers.
He can be cheeky, too, though and he and McLaughlin take the Scottish-born fiddle master of Gateshead, James Hill’s Factory Smoke into the swinging realms of Minnie the Moocher before delivering Hill’s XYZ in more typical, robust, rollicking style.
Day for Giggles features joined at the hip flat-picked guitar and nimble fiddle assurance on a twisting melody and elsewhere McLaughlin’s sympathetic finger-picking and hammering on underlines their commitment to fashioning arrangements as equals. Great stuff.
From The Herald, May 19, 2018
Ross Ainslie and Ali Hutton’s second album takes them further into the territory that their mentor, the late, great piping adventurer Gordon Duncan, encouraged them to explore.
As their teacher and pipe major in the forward-looking Vale of Atholl Pipe Band Duncan was keen for Ainslie and Hutton, as teenagers, to incorporate the pipes into arrangements that used whatever instruments came to hand.
Now, some twenty years on and given their own mastery of pipes, whistles, cittern, banjo and various guitars alongside supporting synths, electronic beats, percussion and a string section, they are creating music that uses traditional tunesmithery as the basis for ever more sophisticated music that has grandeur without being over grandiose and introduces exotic textures in an entirely natural way.
Some tracks, such as Donegal fiddler Tommy Peoples’ slow air Beautiful Goretree, use spare accompaniments to create atmosphere and strength through simplicity while others, such as the aptly named Action or the later Mink, showcase the superb fluency of their playing before building in intensity and colour.
It’s an album that’s full of ambition as well as musicality and repays repeated listening by revealing further shades and detail with every play.
From The Herald, May 5, 2018
Nic Gareiss introduced the concept of international quartet This Is How We Fly by saying that the dancer becomes part of the melody and the musicians become part of the dance. He might also have added that all four group members paint with sound and create poetry with word and deed.
Michigan-born Gareiss is the dancer and his relationship with fiddler Caoimhín Ó Raghallaigh, here playing the ten-string hardanger d'amore, clarinettist Sean Mac Erlaine and Swedish percussionist Petter Berndalen is probably interesting enough when viewed from the auditorium. With the audience seated in the round onstage with the group, this was an experience beyond fascinating.
Part of the attraction is the lightness of touch each of the quartet applies in making traditional tunes and dances – and some more abstract sounds and scenes – come alive. Gareiss makes music with the slightest brush of his heel on his dance board and creates rhythm just by rubbing a dance shoe on a trouser leg. His description of the moves involved in an Acadian dance became a kind of mesmerising rap, only exceeded in its mesmerisation by his carrying out of the steps.
If Ó Raghallaigh and Mac Erlaine are the ones who, as well as gentling along the bare bones of a traditional tune, take the music into spontaneously creative zones, then Berndalen is the source of madcap humour while also making brilliantly subtle melodic-rhythmical shapes with one drum stick and the fingertips of his left hand.
Their encore found Mac Erlaine introducing Mongolian throat singing as a drone for the other three’s quiet as a whisper melody and rhythm making, a stunning coda in keeping with the whole performance.
From The Herald, May 2, 2018
Edinburgh’s annual celebration of the traditional arts, Tradfest began its latest instalment with a concert that showcased music, song and dance to a high standard while keeping the distance between those on stage and those in the audience to a friendly minimum.
Gaelic singer Christine Primrose’s opening song and reference to an ill-advised, too hasty pre-gig bite was typical of the juxtaposition of informality and natural, soulful artistry. As a teacher as well as a singer, Primrose was ideally placed to act as a link with the younger generation of Gaelic singers, represented here by Hebridean trio Sian, whose new arrangements of centuries old songs beautifully illustrated a tradition in transition, and all together the foursome made McGregor’s Lament come alive in the moment.
Pipers Finn Moore and Brighde Chaimbeul and fiddlers Marie Fleming and Ryan Young captured the intimacy of teacher passing tune onto pupil – and vice versa – in duos that managed to give the desired flavour of a mini-pipe band (with added super-empathetic guitar from Innes White) in the former case and delivered conversational and creative expression in both examples.
Nuance, wit, risk-taking, contrast and above all a real sense of joy in making music were all there in abundance and Young’s solo feature, where he appeared to have been truly possessed by the melodies, was as exciting as it was uplifting.
In between these instrumental displays came what might be reasonably described as feet music since the shoes of Caroline Reagh and Sandra Robertson, of Dannsa, joined by Jo De Geer and latterly also Finn Moore tapped with as much melodic intricacy, shape and subtlety as they did flowing percussive energy.
From The Herald, April 30, 2018
Winner of the Musician of the Year title at the recent BBC Radio 2 Folk Awards and former BBC Radio Scotland Young Musician of the Year, concertina player Mohsen Amini joins three fellow young players in Glasgow-based Fourth Moon.
As with other groups Amini has featured with, such as the admirable Talisk and Imar, energy and vitality, as well as strong musical capabilities, are the watch words here. Even at their most reflective the fiddle of David Lombardi, Geza Frank’s flute and whistle, Jean Damei’s guitar and Amini’s concertina sing with a life force that’s just busting to break into full-on celebration.
The tunes on these ten sets are strong and the arrangements are geared towards making the most of these melodies, with thought to texture, tone and tempo that can call to mind a chamber music group in terms of sound quality and tonal range.
The opening Glasgow Roaster sets the pace with lots of flavour in the execution of a fizzing pair of tunes and the nimble Olympus and Celestial’s swashbuckling unison attack are stand-outs but only comparatively as the overall quality of the album is consistent and repays repeated listening.
From The Herald, April 21, 2018.
There’s always been a natural joyfulness in the sound the String Sisters make together. Right from their first performance at Celtic Connections in 2001 there was something in the blend of Shetland, Scandinavian, Donegal and Irish-American accents that communicated a sense of harmony and well-being. And so it continues on an album that has its moments of reflection and lost love but assumes joie de vivre almost as its default position.
All six fiddlers contribute tunes, from the Irish-bluegrass feel of ‘The Crow’s Visit’ and the crisp, pizzicato atmosphere of ‘Open to the Elements’ and from the medieval quality of ‘Trotto’ to ‘Late Night in Førde’s’ train-like cry and locomotion.
Doubtless there will have been much imagination, thought and rehearsal behind it all but with the measured and always apposite accompaniment of the String Misters rhythm section, the ensemble sounds so relaxed and easy, even at its most orchestral. Mairéad Ní Mhaonaigh and Emma Härdelin give winsome voice in a duet of murder ballad ‘Wind and Rain’ and each has a solo song that adds to the overall personality of an album that cheerfully demands repeated listening.
Three of the folk and traditional music scene’s busiest and most visible musicians, guitarist-singer John Doyle and multi-instrumentalists John McCusker and Mike McGoldrick tour and make music together for fun away from their often hectic work schedules, and that’s largely the thinking behind this, their first studio album as a trio.
A collection of ten tracks equally divided into songs and instrumental sets, The Wishing Tree doesn’t go out of its way to draw attention to itself, although it takes a lifetime of playing to sound as effortless as these guys. The arrangements of jigs, reels and airs are thoughtfully simple, showcasing McGoldrick’s flute here, his tight partnership with McCusker’s fiddle there and profiting from the effectiveness of Doyle’s guitar playing in providing both melodic momentum and rhythmical grain.
Doyle’s quiet singing of the lamenting Bonny Light Horseman contrasts with the rousing shanty-style, chorusing of Billy O’Shea and his storytelling skills really come to the fore as he details the exploits of body snatchers Burke & Hare, an original song on which he conveys the dankness and darkness of Edinburgh’s old town closes and lands with a strong sense of realism.
From The Herald, March 31, 2018.
One of two Gaelic singers who share the same name, this Maeve Mackinnon is the Glasgow-born one who is steadily establishing herself as a singer of real character with a liking for surrounding herself with arrangements that reflect current times and sounds while keeping a firm connection to the tradition.
Stri means to strive or struggle and many of the songs here are drawn from the waulking songs sung by hardy Highland and Island women during long shifts at the tweed tables. Mackinnon delivers them with a quiet force that’s darkly expressive while producer Duncan Lyall’s arrangements for strings and electronica, supplemented by superb uilleann piping from Jarlath Henderson and whistle playing from Ali Hutton in a band sensitively driven by drummer Alyn Cosker, lend atmosphere and groove.
The one song sung in English, We’re Not Staying features former Chilean president Salvador Allende’s final broadcast setting the scene for a defiant chorus that chimes with the work songs from this side of the world, giving a sense of unity before Mackinnon’s gorgeous interpretation of Mo Cheist Am Fear Bàn, with Patsy Reid’s soul-stirring fiddle, ends the album on a note of utter, very affecting bereftness.
From The Herald, March 17, 2018.
There’s craftiness as well as musical craft involved in Ross Ainslie’s third album. The multi-instrumentalist, whose duos with Ali Hutton and Jarlath Henderson and work with Treacherous Orchestra, among others, have brought a raft of awards, has taken a similar approach to Sanctuary as Mike Oldfield did to Tubular Bells.
It’s designed to be listened to in one sitting and for anyone tempted not to conform, just as you think, this might be a suitable point for a break, up comes another change of pace or direction, and another, and so on to the final piece which, as with Oldfield’s magnum opus, features the spoken word.
Although exotic guests, tablas master Zakir Hussain and sarod player Soumik Datta, are involved, they don’t arrive until later. So the opening track might have you wondering who the Indian violinist is. It is, in fact, Greg Lawson who, like Ainslie’s other accomplices, moves easily between Asian, possibly Macedonian and definitely Scottish forms.
Hussain’s fabulous, ringing clatter lights up Happy Place but Ainslie’s headlong pipes flight on Road to Recovery and glorious whistle glissandi on Obstacles of the Mind ensure he’s the boss of this admirably rockin’, flowing platter.
From Songlines, March 2018
Fiddler Adam Sutherland not only composes in his sleep, as the cover art for this, his second album suggests. He also writes tunes in his own image.
The gallus, cheeky Dusk on Loch Ness that brings the album to a celebratory conclusion has Sutherland’s name running through it like seaside rock has “Blackpool” and there’s a similarly personal quality about the opening track, The Wizard, where following a band introduction, Sutherland is left alone and exposed as if playing the melody in a bothy or maybe just in his bedroom having woken up with the notes forming in his head.
Sutherland won the Composer of the Year title at the 2017 MG Alba Scots Trad Music Awards and Some Other Land celebrates his love of melody. It also demonstrates his ability to develop ideas and to work with empathetic musicians in realising them in a variety of ways.
Somhairle Dubh dances on a rhythmical bed that a prog rock band might covet. The Broken Man and the Banker has some Memphis soul in its grooving DNA and The Lada has cousins in the Balkans, although ultimately the dominant accent is Sutherland’s own very strong Scottish one.
From The Herald, February 17, 2018.
There was a neat tie-in between this final concert of the 25th Celtic Connections and the festival’s first-ever concert back in 1994. Not only did fiddler Duncan Chisholm appear in that initial gig, with folk-rockers Wolfstone, but Galician piper and percussionist Manuel Amigo, here accompanying the young female vocal trio Tanxugeiras, was with the opening act, Dhais, that night.
The joyful Tanxugeiras continue the Galician tradition of creating intricate, dancing rhythms on tambourine and frame drums to drive their exuberant ululations and they provided a superb opening set, aided by accordion and Amigo’s creative use of a pair of shells as well as his gaita (Galician pipes).
Duncan Chisholm’s music is more restrained by nature, although when he and his mini orchestra fired up a set of reels, there was plenty of energy in the room. The main business here was the live premiere of material from Chisholm’s new album, Sandwood, a collection of tunes that capture the fiddler’s fascination for Sandwood Bay in Sutherland.
Chisholm is a master at reflecting landscapes and geographical features in compositions, both original and borrowed, and his fiddle playing, melodically true with an almost tangible Highland soulfulness, conveys not only a sense of topography but the emotions these places stir in him.
His playing of Donald Shaw’s A Precious Place was particularly gorgeous and with arrangements that incorporated string trio, uilleann pipes and whistle, acoustic and electric guitars, keyboard and piano, and percussion with finely applied weight, he delivered richly detailed, beautiful images for the mind’s eye. I can’t help thinking that there’s potential here for a Chisholm celebration by the Grit Orchestra.
From The Herald, February 7, 2018.
Follow that, as they say. One man, the late Martyn Bennett, created Bothy Culture, an album that gathered together Scottish and Islamic elements in a natural and celebratory musical alliance. So when his friend Greg Lawson reimagines Bennett’s music for his bespoke, nearly 100-strong Grit Orchestra, comprising traditional, classic and jazz musicians, the effect can be like standing in the actual landscape famously captured by a master in oils.
If this was the case when Lawson presented Grit, Bennett’s final masterpiece, at Celtic Connections in 2015, then it was even more so here as a model of the Cuillin formed the backdrop to the orchestra and their guest aerial ballet corps and stunt cyclist Danny MacAskill. Actually, bike ballet might serve as a better description of MacAskill’s contribution as he matched his hit YouTube film by arriving in a rowing boat and performing somersaults, onstage mountain climbing and graceful front and back wheel dare-devilry.
At the heart of the pageant was the music, however, a glorious procession of bagpipe glissandi, parping brass, addictive fiddle figures, heavy duty cello riffs, gongs dipped in buckets of water, and brushes stroking the sounds of waves from snare drums. Lawson, who transcribed the album, has an ear for meticulous detail and his orchestrations brilliantly capture the sighing violin chords of quiet, soulful reflection as well as the intense emotional swell of Bennett’s powerful, dance-driven forward motion.
David Hayman’s reading of Sorley MacLean’s Hallaig brought gravitas and further craggy atmosphere and there was humour, too, as Innes Watson, forsaking his normal guitar and fiddle, gave Bennett-like voice to the one-sided phone call on Aye and led the communal diddle on Yer Man from Athlone.
A huge audience in a huge arena underlined the sense of occasion and nobody would have objected to the album running order going off-script with the arrival of Fiona Hunter to sing Blackbird from Grit, the magnificent soundtrack to MacAskill’s entrance and a reminder that beyond Bothy Culture lay even more magic from Bennett in a career that was cruelly cut short.
From The Times, January 29, 2018
Celtic Connections director Donald Shaw has achieved two long-standing ambitions relating to Gaelic song at this year’s festival. At the beginning of the week, at Shaw’s suggestion, the South Uist-born singer Kathleen MacInnes joined saxophonist Tommy Smith and pianist Brian Kellock in a spontaneously arranged and conspicuously successful, if brief, merging of Gaelic tradition with jazz harmonies and improvisation.
MacInnes’s gorgeous voice, with its suggestions of peat smoke and a malty tang, featured again in this extensive celebration of the Gaelic song repertoire in the equally unusual company of the BBC Scottish Symphony Orchestra, augmented for the occasion by traditional instruments including the uilleann pipes and a keening fiddle.
The fear might have been that these songs, some dating back centuries, others much more recent, would be smothered with saccharine arrangements or overpowered by orchestration but a light touch and a shrewd awareness of form and singer dispelled such thoughts. The strong tones of Robert Robertson, currently gaining attention with the young band Tide Lines, and the superb Gillebride MacMillan, now better known as the bard in popular TV series Outlander, were allowed to smoulder on tales of longing while Karen Matheson’s sure-footed waulking song that told of female bards in a fatal war of words was buoyed and driven with empathic orchestral momentum.
Despite the concert hall setting there was no standing on ceremony. Indeed, a feeling of informality, engendered by television presenter Kirsteen MacDonald’s mischievously informative introductions and one or two mistimed arrivals, added to the evening’s success. Even when Isobel Ann Martin, a Royal National Mod Traditional Gold Medallist, was overcome by the occasion the audience response was understanding, warm and heartfelt.
At the end all the singers, including the multi-award-winning Julie Fowlis, the rapidly maturing Mischa MacPherson, the apparently unaffected by time Mackenzie Sisters from Lewis and the tireless Gaelic advocate Arthur Cormack, gathered onstage for a spirited rendition of the popular waulking song Hèman Dubh before orchestra and audience were commandeered into a community choir for the work song turned anthem Sìne Bhàn.
From The Times, January 29, 2018
It was, as Frankie Gavin pointed out, the trio’s first gig together. Quite a coup for Celtic Connections, given uilleann piper Paddy Keenan, fiddler Gavin and accordionist Dermot Byrne’s status in the Irish music firmament. And it might have been their last.
Well, not really, Keenan’s return to the dressing room in a mock huff when Gavin told him he would recognise, but not know [how to play] the first tune of the encore was followed by a typically blistering trio finale.
The offending tune hardly fitted into the ‘old Irish tunes that are now neglected’ script the trio follows, being a choro, Tico Tico, but Gavin and Byrne played it with brio and I wouldn’t bet against Keenan having learned it by now and being able to add the outrageous ornamentations that come as standard when he plays.
Both he and Gavin, known respectively for their time with the Bothy Band and De Dannan, are notorious speed merchants, and there were elements of ‘who’s following whom’ as reels flew, yet the contours of the melodies are always honoured. When, with Byrne adding brilliant feints and harmonies, they hit the golden seam on, appropriately, The Yellow Tinker, they were beyond exhilarating. For contrast, Keenan added The Snows They Melt the Soonest on low whistle and while he might not have remembered its full name, he gave this lovely air his full expressive attention.
Earlier, Gaelic-Indian quintet Lahira found fruitful common ground between two traditions, with Anne Martin singing clearly and emotionally and her musicians creating superb tension and release, especially on a heightened violin, tablas and beatboxing exchange.
From The Herald, January 26, 2018
Twenty-five years ago, almost to the night, a troupe of Irish-American musicians and step-dancers arrived on the Glasgow Royal Concert Hall stage as unknowns and departed with a reputation that would make Cherish the Ladies one of Glasgow’s favourite bands and Celtic Connections regulars.
Not too much has changed since that first visit. The musicians, playing reels with classy assurance, now come as much from this side of the Atlantic. Their leader, Bronx-born whistle maestra Joanie Madden, however, remains ebullience personified and although the dance element was reduced to a single male it was jaw-droppingly virtuosic.
Cherish the Ladies’ runaway local success has become emblematic of Celtic Connections itself, or at least one facet of the festival. An event that’s grown into one of the world’s greatest roots music gatherings, it began as something to light up the dark January nights – and fill a venue’s empty schedule - and quickly became a party where friendships were formed onstage and off and musicians were encouraged to become as ambitious as the festival.
The scale and content of this opening night extravaganza underlined that ambition. Bands that were formed specifically to appear at Celtic Connections, such as the transatlantic fiddle convention String Sisters, returned as international touring acts, in this case highlighting their Nordic tendencies with the superbly orchestrated carousal, Late Night in Førde.
By contrast, elsewhere, Celtic Connections’ more sobering engagement with global events was illustrated by the cast of the World War 1 commemoration Far, Far From Ypres saluting the terrible numbers of fallen in that conflict and by the more recent, personal reflections of Syrian Maya Youssef, articulated through the percussively singing strings of her zither-like qanun and her newly-forged partnership with Emma Härdelin and Mairéad Ní Mhaonaigh’s lovely voices.
An evening that began with the Highland pipes playing a Gaelic air honoured those traditions with two further highlights, the piping ensemble Tryst with their magnificent harmonies and young Hebridean singing group Sian, who showed the promise to be headliners when Celtic Connections’ next significant anniversary rolls around.
From The Times, January 20, 2018
The eighteenth century Perthshire fiddler and composer Niel Gow can have had no bigger champion in modern times than Pete Clark. A Fifer who years ago settled not far from Gow’s home in Inver, near Dunkeld, Clark has devoted albums to Gow’s music, leads an ensemble named after him and for the past fifteen years has directed an annual festival in Gow’s honour.
Here he plays a fiddle that genuinely once belonged to his hero and if it’s not too fanciful to say this, these recordings are probably as close as we’re likely to get to being in the great man’s presence. Clark has completely immersed himself in the tunes of Gow and his son Nathaniel and he and pianist Muriel Johnstone allow the melodies to speak for themselves to the extent that while listening to Clark, you can get a real sense of the personalities that inspired these strathspeys, reels and heartfelt laments.
As solo examples such as Watson’s Class emphasise, Clark’s playing can stand alone, with both rhythmical momentum and attention to melodic detail, but the balance and understanding in the duo tracks conspire to present a beautifully rounded programme.
From The Herald, December 9, 2017.
The Peatbog Faeries celebrate their 25th anniversary by showcasing what they’ve become experts at over these years, dragging people physically onto dance floors and out of festival bars to get swept up in the grooving, reeling, piping, whistling maelstrom of an exuberant band at full tilt.
And just as their live performances make a party pooper out of anyone who prefers to stay on the sidelines, the quality and energy of these recordings, taken from gigs in Herefordshire and closer to the Peatbog Faeries heartland at the Hebridean Celtic Festival, puts the listener right in the heart of the auditorium.
Aside from the tightness and flare of the melodic arrowhead at the front of the band, what comes across most forcibly is the variety of sounds and often exotic colours that get stirred into the intoxicating brew.
Afro-blues guitar, Arabic ambiences and downright dirty Hammond organ licks propel high octane pipes and fiddle tunes with the more reflective soul ballad setting of Fishing at Orbost and the chilled desert atmospherics of Strictly Sambuca offering chances to draw breath before a recording of Calum Kennedy singing The Skyline of Skye ends the party with a sentimental touch.
From The Herald, December 9, 2017
It’s seven years since Shetland fiddler Chris Stout and Dundee-born harper Catriona McKay released their previous duo album, White Nights. In between times came the superb Seavaigers with the Scottish Ensemble and there’s a palpable connection with both of these releases here in that the duo continues to refine and explore its approach to the folk tradition while operating at a level of musicality that puts it easily in the chamber music and classical soloist orbits.
Bare Knuckle denotes the gloves coming off and it’s an apt title not just for the track of that name but for the album as a whole. This is a duo exposing flesh and feelings in a series of conversations that can go right out to the edge of musical expression, sometimes ecstatically, as in the extraordinary, dizzying, adrenaline-fuelled Moscow Rush, sometimes atmospherically, as witness the keening, majestic impressionism of Tingaholm.
Stout’s tonal range and bow mastery – now gliding on Villa-Lobos’ Bachianas Brasileiras No 4 Preludio, now choppy as the North Sea in winter – and McKay’s sense of enquiry and harmonic strumming and shape-forming are as breathtaking as they are excitingly, gorgeously, emotionally satisfying. A landmark release.
From The Herald, December 2, 2017
The surprising thing about Eilidh Shaw & Ross Martin’s first album together isn’t so much that it took them fifteen years of living and playing together to get round to recording it as that they travelled over to the studio at Sabhal Mor Ostaig on Skye to do so.
The result of these daily trips gives every impression that they might have got the fire on in their kitchen in Morar and set a tape running instead, so homely and comfortable with each other do Shaw’s fiddle and voice and Martin’s guitar sound.
Long years with folk groups the Poozies and Daimh respectively have given their playing character and the mostly instrumental tracks variously swing, march, reel and waltz with a conversational air as Martin provides the relaxed energy that probes Shaw’s unadorned phrasing and attention to the melody.
Shaw’s song The Lines of Time, although written about an older couple, emphasises this pair’s feeling of easy togetherness and while most of the material is Highland in origin, Are You Lonesome Tonight and Can’t Help Falling in Love’s appropriation as a Gaelic waltz medley and Shaw’s soft intoning of Bruce Springsteen’s Dancing in the Dark somehow add to the Highland charm.
From The Herald, December 2, 2017
A new Arthur Cormack album is an event on two counts. One: it’s almost thirty years since the Gaelic singer released the previous album under his own name, although he has appeared on others including recordings by the groups Mac-Talla and Cliar. And two: this one has the sound of an instant classic.
Cormack is renowned for his calm, hands in pockets, onstage demeanour and relaxed, clear, generous imparting of lyrics from down the ages, and here he sings songs from sources known and unknown, from bards of long standing and from contemporary writers. The settings are varied, from the solo, voice-only Ged is socrach mo leaba and the a cappella choral Cnoc nan Craobh to a love song by long-time musical partner Blair Douglas that’s set in Portree but has something of a country-cajun waltz feel.
As well as writing two of the tracks, Douglas is at the heart of several arrangements, lending his customary keyboard and accordion warmth alongside a team including Mary Ann Kennedy (harp), Allan Henderson (fiddle) and Chaz Stewart (guitar). Cormack’s beautifully placed voice is always the main focus, though, a heartfelt presence that communicates the gamut of emotions with a genuine glow.
From The Herald, November 25, 2017
In its twenty-first year as one of the most prestigious and nourishing events on the fiddle music calendar, the Scots Fiddle Festival has reached the point where its mainstage guests now have memories of attending the festival with their parents or even performing as very young fiddlers in concert.
It’s an inclusive celebration with recitals by players such as Argyll master Archie McAllister, workshops for all levels and an outreach project whose participants opened Saturday’s concert with admirable vigour and aplomb and might well include future star turns.
Friday’s headliner, Graham Mackenzie first appeared at the festival as a twelve year old. Now twenty-five, he returned to perform an autobiographical programme with references including a Celtic Connections Danny award win around the same time as that first Scots Fiddle Festival gig, immersion in Manchester’s Irish music scene and exchange trips to Cape Breton. Played mostly with his nine-piece band – essentially a string quintet combined with a folk group – it showcased the finesse he has added through studies at the Royal Northern College of Music and a talent for well-turned melodies and sumptuous arrangements with smart, neatly detailed codas.
Although at different stages of development, Friday’s opening act, Glasgow-based Snuffbox and Saturday’s bill-toppers, Michigan-born fiddler Jeremy Kittel’s trio shared much in common in taking traditional music forward. Snuffbox pitches the current BBC Radio Scotland Young Traditional Musician of the Year, fiddler Charlie Stewart with cellist Rufus Huggan and guitarist Luc McNally and produces music with a great sense of spontaneity in its superbly varied dynamics, easy interchanging of melodic, harmonic and percussive roles, its often raw emotions and sheer character.
Kittel’s group with mandolinist Joshua Pinkham and guitarist Quinn Bachand takes the string band tradition into marvellously rarefied levels of collective virtuosity. Playing a repertoire that ranged from bluegrass to a startling Bach partita to a cunningly modulating strathspey and reel set, they too sounded thrillingly spontaneous and they finished by inviting Patsy Reid, who had preceded them with strongly characterful Perthshire tunes before introducing her international band, for an exhilarating, impromptu twin fiddle medley.
From The Times, November 20, 2017
There is an album being promoted on Richard Thompson’s current tour and not untypically he managed simultaneously to pooh-pooh his latest work, Acoustic Rarities, and bring it to the audience’s attention.
Thompson is the master of self-deprecation just as his fifty years as a professional musician, which he referred to with bashful pride, has honed the guitar playing and songwriting talent he showed way back with Fairport Convention into something approaching live film direction.
There are songs such as – handily - They Tore the Hippodrome Down where Thompson becomes scriptwriter, narrator, soundtrack composer and six-string orchestrator, using words and guitar to establish an atmosphere, senses of both era and place. With the flick of a wrist he sets up opening song, Gethsemane with film noir intrigue and on the appropriately rockin’ in rhythm Valerie, while his voice depicts the ultimate femme fatale, if not without humour, his guitar takes on Duke Ellington-like locomotion and horn interjections.
Thompson will tell you that he does two types of song: medium tempo miserable ones and slow miserable ones. Crocodile Tears, he reckons, is almost happy, although its cynicism is positively gleeful as a he skewers the man who’s taken his place in the affections of a former lover who’s “as warm as a reptile can be.”
This is classic Thompson and there was much more, some of it spontaneously included by shouted requests and the odd one where a verse eluded him but was mirthfully chivvied into line just in time. His is a rare talent and what makes it all the more valuable is his very personal presentation. Most of this audience will only know him through his records but they’ll have left feeling as if they’ve just spent the evening with an old mate.
From The Herald, October 21, 2017
Five minutes into this beautifully presented latest instalment of Soundhouse’s Monday music series, Leveret’s Andy Cutting announced that there would be no singing. This was amusingly couched in a mock officious tone that didn’t quite make it clear whether the trio onstage wouldn’t be including songs in their set-list or that the audience should refrain from bursting into song.
No matter, songs were not required from either party, unless they were songs of praise from the listeners, because there’s a lyrical quality to the music Cutting, on accordion, and his colleagues, concertinist Rob Harbron and fiddler-violist Sam Sweeney, make. Even as they play dance tunes – and much of the two sets consisted of hornpipes, jigs and the like – the melodies unfold like stories, bobbing and bouncing genially.
The trio sit as if round an imaginary kitchen table, teasing the tunes into spontaneous arrangements conversationally. No two Leveret gigs are the same and this development “on the fly”, to use their term, pleasingly blurs the line between the sixteenth and seventeenth century tunes they’ve learned from old manuscripts and the pieces they composed for their all-original third album, Inventions.
It’s mesmerising and lulling by turns and very much in the spirit of the great albums, such as the still glorious, understated Lusignac, that Cutting made with Chris Wood in the 1990s. Fiddle and concertina weave together as the accordion adds a counter melody, subtle passing chords or big rich, church organ-like bass figures, or a whistling, high-pitched harmonic adds an eerie meteorological commentary to one of what Harbron calls his protest songs, which generally have a weather-related theme. I wouldn’t want to add to the problems that rain getting into his wood pile brings but if it produces music this lovely, let it pour.
From The Herald, October 13, 2017
Partick-born Fiona Ross lives in Melbourne these days but she retains all the feeling for, and the ability to transmit, the Scottish song tradition that she developed on the folk scene here before moving to Australia.
Through one of her teachers, the admirable Andy Hunter, Ross is at one remove from the great traveller ballad singer Jeannie Robertson and through other sources of songs and support, such as Gordeanna McCulloch and Alison MacMorland, she has formed a character that allows her to tell both long-form ballads and shorter story songs with that crucial ingredient: believability.
Accompanied by superb guitar playing from another expatriate, Tony McManus, with added fiddle, whistles and harmonium from John McCusker on some tracks, Ross manages to bring great portent to a brief, vengeful The Burning of Auchindoun and by contrast, she clearly delights in The Laird o Cockpen having his pomposity punctured.
A lovely, unaccompanied reading of The Seasons, learned from Jeannie Robertson’s daughter Lizzy Higgins, illustrates the clarity and true tone of Ross’s singing and she and McManus form a particularly nimble duo on illicit still tale Yowie wi the Crookit Horn to underline the diversity of both singer and song tradition.
From The Herald, September 23, 2017
You only have to witness a Celtic Connections Skipinnish night, with Glasgow Royal Concert Hall jammed to the rafters with excited humanity, to see how successfully accordionist Angus MacPhail has steered the band into capturing Highlanders across all generations by combining Gaelic tradition, dance band nous and an open admiration for Runrig’s anthemic, rocking songs.
The band has even enjoyed a download hit single – the inherently catchy, danceable ‘Walking on the Waves’, included here – as it represents a true picture of Highlands and Islands life and champions Gaelic resurgence. There’s at least one fishing boat skipper in the line-up, a fact that lends credence to the shanty-like ‘Ocean of the Free’, sung in strong recent addition, Norrie MacIver’s proudly Hebridean brogue, and brings emotional weight to ‘The Iolaire’s’ disaster at sea narrative.
With pipes, fiddle and accordion tune sets boosting musicality and energy levels, this seventh album is generally uplifting, nowhere more so than on the Runrig favourite, ‘Alba’, borne on guest guitarist Davie Dunsmuir’s superbly aerated riffing, and ‘Crò Chinn T-Sàile’, which soars all the higher with the Skipinnish choir’s Gaelic psalm-singing.
From Songlines, August-September 2017
The Argyll-born harmonica virtuoso Donald Black brings sessions from Nashville to Nova Scotia and from Lewis to the Lothians together on this aptly named instrumental album.
Black’s heart is indeed in the Highlands as he transfers the music of the bagpipes and the swinging Western Highland dance bands to the humble moothie with great feeling and absolute mastery. Yet there are audible influences from across the Atlantic in his playing too.
Bringing in Charlie McCoy, the author and player of The Old Grey Whistle Test theme, on Skye composer Blair Douglas’ New Island Waltz is an especially nice touch as Douglas, like Black, draws on both peat lands and prairies for inspiration, and the rollicking Canadian-Scottish dance set, with Cape Breton pianist Mario Collosimo, underlines Black’s ability to sound as commanding as the great accordionists of the dance music tradition.
In among the marches and dance sets, including The Highland Express’s initial bluesy chuff, there are superb examples of Black’s heartfelt slow air playing, with Runrig’s Malcolm Jones on guitar and Martainn Skene on cello helping to wring out every ounce of atmosphere on MacCrimmon’s Lament and The Edge of the White Rock respectively.
From The Herald, June 16, 2017
A Scottish-based trio with a French-sounding but actually Edinburgh-derived name, Bellevue Rendezvous find inspiration across a wide arc that includes the Scandinavian countries, Galicia, Poland and Armenia as well as sources closer to home.
This third album begins with a carefully measured tune from fiddler Gavin Marwick that could easily be Eastern European in origin and instantly signals the group’s ease with material that soon finds them dovetailing fiddle, its keyed Swedish cousin, the nyckelharpa, and cittern in sometimes dizzying dance meters and tunes that combine soulfulness with celebration.
As with Swedish masters Vasen, who are just one of their many influences, Marwick, Ruth Morris and Cameron Robson have developed a natural choreography where their instruments’ roles interchange and create a wealth of colour, contrast and vibrancy as exemplified by the closing Armenian dance, Hicazkar Sirto.
Robson’s Piping the Fish, despite its slightly wacky origins, is hauntingly ceremonial and in typical Bellevue Rendezvous style, slips with apparent effortlessness into the traditional Source of the Spey, and the Galician pairing of K and Jota da Gheada underlines the fun, as well as doubtless considerable playing time, that goes into creating music of such high calibre.
From The Herald, June 2, 2017
Twenty-eight years into their touring and recording life together the three musicians who make up Sweden’s folk music phenomenon Vasen know their places in the music. There’s a natural flow to each of these fifteen new compositions that sounds effortless and yet there’s bite in the combined attack of nyckelharpa, five-string viola and twelve-string guitar and an audible sense of enquiry that keeps the music fresh and invigorating.
Much of the music is based on the traditional polska dance measure but its three-beats rhythm is anything but limiting. Melodies cascade and dance with energy before slipping into more reflective passages and the instrumental grouping can sound almost orchestral in size one minute and intimately delicate the next.
Trostemarsch was written in consolation for the trio’s many American friends (they have a street named after them in Bloomington, Indiana) after the presidential election, although there’s little here that sounds anything other than optimistic, and even the mellowest and most atmospheric tunes, such as the cunningly titled Mellow D and Jungfrun Av Norge, have a brightness about them that’s completely enchanting and involving.
Dedicated fans will know what to expect, while still finding surprises; new listeners are in for an adventurous treat.
From The Herald, May 26, 2017
The unpromisingly titled Onions is one example of fiddler Charlie Stewart hiding his light under a bushel and the catch-all opening track’s name, Reels, is another but Onions already has some history behind it, being one of the items that Stewart played in his marvellously expressive, victorious set in the BBC Radio Scotland Young Traditional Musician of the Year final in February.
Snuffbox are Perthshire-born Stewart, cellist Rufus Huggan and guitarist-vocalist Luc McNally and as with the fiddler’s Young Trad appearance, this, their debut album sings with energy, vitality, rugged adventure and sweet musicality.
Far from the nondescript set its name might suggest, Reels showcases the trio’s strong collective personality brilliantly, with Stewart displaying passion and daring variations and the three instruments variously taking turns as the lead voice, racing off in invigorating unison or offering superbly effective harmonic support.
Yer Maw’s finds the trio in wilfully, and quite intoxicating, adventurous mode and McNally contributes the sensitively sung Down the River and Sleeping Stars. It’s Onions, however, that offers the killer entry point as Stewart’s affecting lament-like slow air develops into the kind of melodic teasing and dramatic pacing that Martin Hayes has turned into an art form.
From The Herald, May 19, 2017
It’s all about storytelling on this second album from the English folksinger June Tabor and her jazz-reared colleagues in Quercus, saxophonist Iain Ballamy and pianist Huw Warren.
Whether the material comes from the collecting of a Somerset folklorist, the pens of Bob Dylan, Robert Burns and Stephen Sondheim or the imaginations of Ballamy and Warren, the threesome focus on the narrative, creating by turns dark, charming and pastoral worlds for voice and instruments to inhabit.
Burns and Sondheim bookend the collection, with Auld Lang Syne ushering in a new album as it would a new year, if with more care and economy, and Somewhere similarly being given a hushed, sober and wary reading.
In between there is more to love, including a trilogy of quite different companions – jazz standard You Don’t Know What Love Is, traditional ballad The Manchester Angel and Dylan’s Don’t Think Twice It’s Alright - that align perfectly as Warren and Ballamy shadow, support and coax Tabor with a gospel inflection here and a creative melodic phrase there.
Saxophone-piano duets Christchurch and Emmeline underline Warren and Ballamy’s faultless judgement before their dance-like bird song appropriation alongside Tabor turns The Cuckoo into a folk-jazz masterpiece.
From The Herald, May 12, 2017