ALBUM REVIEW : Dhachaigh / Home - The Murdo Macfarlane Songbook

Various Artists, 'Dhachaigh / Home - The Murdo Macfarlane Songbook'
(An Lanntair, 2008)



This is an interesting recording that marries the traditional with the contemporary in a moving tribute to the Hebridean poet, Murdo Macfarlane. The Murdo Macfarlane Songbook has been celebrated in a number of concerts over the last few years, taking to stages in Macfarlane's native Lewis and Glasgow's Celtic Connections festival. This album features music commissioned for those concerts alongside recordings of Macfarlane's work from those involved in the concerts.

Paul Mounsey contributes two specially commissioned pieces of music that act as bookends to the recording. At the beginning is "Dhachaidh/Home," painting a mournful, ethereal scene with synths and strings. "Till/Return" provides a fitting finale, being more triumphant though nonetheless moving. Mairead Maclennan adds strikingly desolate readings of excerpts from the Macfarlane poem, "Her Image Is A Guiding Star To Me," over both pieces.

Calum Alex Macmillan gives a lucid reading of "Tobair Tobair Sìolaidh," accompanied by the haunting soprano saxophone of Fraser Fifield, a glorious example of a bold contemporary arrangement that subtly augments the sentiments of the original work. In one of the stand-out moments of the album, utmost purity of voice is demonstrated by Isobel Ann Martin on her tender rendition of " 's Fhada Leann An Oidhche Gheamhraidh," with a dobro lending shades of the new world in which Macfarlane was exiled when writing this piece.

A lively, engaging fiddle composition from Alasdair White lifts the tempo somewhat, whilst a Blair Douglas instrumental arrangement of "Cànan Nan Gàidheal" comes across as both reflective and quietly celebratory.

There are a few vocal tracks that fall well short of the standards set by the majority of the album, letting down what would otherwise be an entirely enjoyable recording.

Click here to read more about Dhachaigh on the An Lanntair website!

ALBUM REVIEW : Maranna McCloskey - 'At Last'

Maranna McCloskey, 'At Last' (McCloskey Music, 2008)



There are any number of female singers who peddle a blend of traditional and contemporary song, but few seem to strike the balance quite so well as Maranna McCloskey. Bland and clichéd traditional pastiche is firmly avoided on At Last, yet a subtle contemporary treatment is applied that doesn't detract at all from the traditional roots that feature so proudly. What's more, Maranna can actually sing. This may sound a little obvious, but what I mean is that she doesn't allow her voice to wither in the background in a faux Celtic mysticism. When Maranna sings you enjoy the full palette of her soulful voice, subtly morphing to complement the nature of the song. In many respects Maranna could draw comparisons to the likes of Dolores Keane, in as much as she has something worthy to give to any song, regardless of its origin, though it is the sensibilities of the tradition that undoubtedly flavour her work. At Last was recorded in San Diego with a collection of American and Irish ex-pat musicians, and it's this distance from home that takes the music in an interesting direction.

It's to the tradition that Maranna turns to open the album, with a vibrant reading of "Going To Mass Last Sunday," where the cadence of Maranna's voice contributes as much to the playful pace as Jon Szanto's imaginative percussion, or the racing uilleann pipes of Eric Rigler. This is followed with the complete contrast of "Cá Raibh Tú Ar Feadh An Lae Uaim?" (Where Have You Been All Day?), where Maranna turns in a sublime vocal, with a captivating clarity of enunciation. Mary Szanto's cello and an elegant guitar arrangement from producer, Brian Baynes, bring added class, though the sheer beauty of Maranna's voice is truly in a class of its own.

Maranna's own songs certainly warrant further attention, aimed firmly at the discerning, contemporary adult music market. "Our Last Embrace" provides the first opportunity, with a committed vocal played alongside a sultry saxophone. "Hold me / Won't you kiss me tenderly?" -- I certainly wouldn't have to be asked twice! "Fraser Island," Maranna's paean to the Aboriginal history of the island, is already the recipient of an Irish American News award following its inclusion on an earlier EP, and it's not difficult to understand why this expansive lyric would attract such an accolade.

The crowning glory of the album for me is Maranna's extraordinarily beautiful rendition of "The Verdant Braes Of Screen." It's not that there's anything at all wrong with the sensitive instrumental accompaniment, but I'd love to hear the vocal track alone, just to be assured that it really is that beautiful! Maranna's voice never sounds forced, never stretched, never false -- she genuinely has a naturally effortless approach to traditional material, to which few singers could lay claim.

I genuinely hope that Maranna sets about spreading her magic further through the traditional repertoire.

Click here to visit Maranna's website!

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ALBUM REVIEW : Rachel Hair - 'The Lucky Smile'

Rachel Hair, 'The Lucky Smile' (March Hair Records, 2009)



Rachel's impressive debut album, Hubcaps & Potholes, explored the harp as a solo instrument, in a collection that showcased the instrument's versatility, from its poised and delicate beauty, through to its enigmatic, expansive flourishes. For her second album, The Lucky Smile, Rachel showcases the harp, or clarsach as it is also known in her native Scotland, within a band setting, further considering the appeal and adaptability that this beautiful instrument can hold.

There are some very obvious musicians on the folk scene that Rachel could easily have called upon to provide accompaniment on The Lucky Smile, but it is testament to her musical inquisitiveness and ingenuity, that Rachel chose to seek some less obvious companions to work with on this project. Infiltrating the Scottish jazz scene, Rachel has commandeered some of Scotland's most lucid and innovative musicians. Paul Tracey on guitar, Andy Sharkey on double bass, and Scott MacKay on drums. Added to this mix is Paul Jennings, one of Scotland's foremost percussionists, whose supple rhythms add to the energy of the whole ensemble. To the musically attuned, just the thought of this combination is enticing, when you listen to The Lucky Smile, the reality is absolutely enthralling.

Many of the compositions here are Rachel's own work, alongside a few traditional tunes and compositions by fellow musicians. The albums begins with the ensemble in full swing on the set "Back Home" comprising two compositions by Gordon Gunn and Karen Tweed, sandwiching the traditional tune, "Flora Macdonald's" Andy Sharkey's languid double bass provides much depth, whilst Paul Tracey's guitar adds supple textures. Rachel's harp races away frivolously, leaving a trail of the most glorious, colourful notes, whilst the drums of Scott Mackay attempts to tame the rhythm.

Even when flying solo on the splendid slow air, "Blue Hills Of Antrim" Rachel delivers the most heartbreaking and spellbinding performance, harnessing the most subtle and expressive aspects of her harp, in an arrangement where the carefully measured silences contribute to the intensity just as much as each resolutely plucked string. With "I Lost My Harp In Barcelona" Rachel well and truly soaks up the Spanish ambience, you can almost smell the paella and taste the sangria, with the cajon of Paul Jennings instilling an exotic rhythm.

A couple of tracks feature guest singer, Joy Dunlop, who contributes her crystalline Gaelic vocals, sounding all the more classy when delivered over Rachel's sublime, rippling harp. A Fhleasgaich Oig As Ceanalta is one of the most beautiful Gaelic love songs you will hear, sung by Joy with a palpable longing, whilst Rachel's harp accentuates the drama. The harmonium of Angus Lyon gives a rounded swell to underpin the arrangement, and Paul Jennings' percussion lends contemporary spirit.

Elsewhere, one can find slow reels, marches and jigs, all fleshed out by the jazz sensibilities of the accompanying musicians. It's this subtle fusion of genre flavours that makes The Lucky Smile so appealing. You don't need to be a fervent admirer of traditional music to get this. it's brimming with spirit and vitality, with a unique and undeniable appeal. It would be easy to lose yourself in each and every track on The Lucky Smile. It would be easy for me to wax lyrical about each and every note, describing the subtle nuances and the mesmeric arrangements, but I've probably said enough now. You really should buy yourself a copy of this album and get drunk on its intoxicating charms.

Click here to visit Rachel's website!

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ALBUM REVIEW : Alyth - 'People Like Me'

Alyth, 'People Like Me' (Navigator Records, 2009)



Drawing from a breadth of influences of personal resonance, Lewis-born Alyth McCormack presents an eclectic contemporaneous collection on this, her second album. Alyth mixes fresh arrangements of traditional Gaelic song with interpretations of songs from stalwart songsmiths, such as Suzanne Vega, Boo Hewerdine and Del Amitri's Justin Currie.

Alyth's voice doesn't behold the insipid prettiness exhibited by many female singers, particularly in the Gaelic genre, instead providing a wonderfully textured voice where spirit abounds. Alyth sings with a radiant commitment that really draws you to the songs, willing you to engage and understand, and flooding you with equal parts comfort and utter joy

Album opener, the traditional "Nuair Bha Mi Òg" receives a soaring, contemporary makeover, courtesy of Ewan Vernal's purring double bass, the agile saxophone of Fraser Fifield, and Noel Eccles' discreet, rhythmic percussion. Alyth's spirited vocal lays effortlessly over the arrangement, like a silk gown draped over the shoulders of a lithesome femme fatale. Further Gaelic delights can be heard on an energetic set of puirt a beul, "The Vices Set," where Alyth attacks each syllable with precision and grit, in a vocal that will leave you breathless as it reaches a frenzied denouement. In total contrast is Alyth's tender and beautiful vocal on "A Mhairead Òg," a bewitching Gaelic ballad.

David McDade's "The Beautiful Lie" was covered by Dolly Parton on her Little Sparrow album, and here Alyth blends her own Lewis enunciation with Dolly's Appalachian tones in a fragile vocal that is every bit as emotive as Dolly's own version. Suzanne Vega's "The Queen And The Soldier" offers compelling evidence of how Alyth deploys her acting talents within her vocal performance, borrowing the disdain and indignation from Vega's lyrics and applying it vividly to the song's characters, in this charged interpretation.

I've always regarded "I Wonder What's Keeping My True Love Tonight" as the tale of a rather helpless character, but Alyth invests it with a palpable strength of character here -- the line "and when I'm not with you, I'll love whom I please" stands out as a bold brush-off, in a way that I've never really picked up on before I countless other renditions. The album closes with the title track, "People Like Me," a personal introspective musing, that considers the merits of clinging to past glories against the woes of modern society, with a firm focus on cutting through the mysticism and considering the human aspect of the here and now.

There is plenty to engage with throughout People Like Me. Warmth, strength and fragility all sit side by side, woven together under the wondrous spell cast by Alyth's vivid and full-bodied voice.

Click here to visit Alyth's website!

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