Bonny Light Horseman: Bonny Light Horseman
A new ‘astral folk’ project that brings together singer-songwriter Anaïs Mitchell, whose Broadway production Hadestown won a Tony for Best Musical in the 2019 awards, sharing lead vocals with Eric D. Johnson from the Fruit Bats, and multi-instrumentalist Josh Kaufman, this is firmly based around traditional pastures, predominantly of UK origin. Whether it proves to be a one-off project or they hopefully remain in the collective saddle to ride together again, for now, this understated affair works a quiet magic.
Brian Ó hEadhra & Fiona MacKenzie: Tuath – Songs of the Northlands
The comfortable juxtaposition of two apparently disparate elements, the poetry of the Gaelic language and the enormous sonic variety available from modern electronica, gives this album its power to both surprise and satisfy in equal measure. Musing on this I was struck by a memory from last summer when I spent a month traversing Na h-Eilean Siar, the Western Isles. In many communities, Gaelic is the everyday language, but the more one hears, the more it’s apparent that words and phrases of English are part of conversations. Speakers switching briefly but seamlessly into English whenever it seems more apt. In Tuath we have two musical languages with abundant crossovers between the two. When they are mingled in the hands of musicians as skilful and fluent as these, the result is breath-taking and hugely enjoyable.
Brigid Mae Power: Head Above The Water
Some of the great singers working in or close to the idiom of folk music have the ability to sound like they are talking directly and individually to the listener. Sandy Denny had it, as did Anne Briggs and Nic Jones. Irish singer Brigid Mae Power is a rare contemporary artist who can be talked about in the same breath as that select group. She has a way of singing that is personal and personable, a delivery that feels as if it is directly relating her interior monologues from her mind to yours, and yet she never shies away from difficult and potentially painful subjects.
The title track, which brings the album to a close, provides us with a severing of ties, a bittersweet goodbye that unfolds over impressionistic piano. But it is a big-hearted goodbye and there is no sense of antagonism. And this is the essence of Power’s songwriting gift: her generosity of spirit permeates all of these songs, even the ones that describe hardship. This is her most accessible work to date, but also her most intricately layered: genuinely beautiful, quietly challenging and perfectly self-contained.
Bróna McVittie: The Man in the Mountain
We often associate the harp with a kind of fey prettiness, as if its sound is the musical equivalent of filigree or lacework. As an object, a harp is a kind of signifier, conjuring up ambrosial imagery, femininity, a kind of classical purity. Bróna McVittie’s music can encapsulate all of these things. It can be pretty and delicate. She is capable of soothing passages, of notes that sound like falling water and pastoral dreams. But that is only half the story. McVittie is an avid experimentalist, willing to augment folky arrangements with passages of ultra-modern electronica, and able to jump from harp to guitar and back on a whim.
The Man In The Mountain’s predecessor was one of the best releases of 2018, but somehow Brona McVittie has surpassed herself. There is an added maturity, a new breadth of influence, and a creative control that sets this album apart. But she never loses the wide-eyed sense of wonder at the poetry of the natural world. If she set out to reflect that beauty and that wonder in music, she has succeeded admirably.
Buck Curran: No Love is Sorrow
The austere black and white cover art and comparatively straight-up title are somewhat deceptive. Still, those familiar with Buck’s previous work will not be surprised to learn that this is a hugely diverse and intriguing set of songs, incorporating beautifully played acoustic melodies as naturally as it does epic narrative-driven soundscapes and electric guitar workouts. For nearly an hour of album tracks, plus alternate versions, we experience the vast imagination and creative energy of this musician.
…a bewitching album that pulls the listener in many directions and exposes them to many emotions, created through splendid instrumental music, performed by a master, or narrative driven songs built around powerful writing. Composer, musician, luthier and curator Buck Curran is a man of many talents, as No Love is Sorrow further testifies.
Burd Ellen: Says The Never Beyond
Burd Ellen is the name given to the solo project of Glasgow-based singer and musician Debbie Armour, which has, since 2018, formed a natural continuation of her earlier work with artists like Alasdair Roberts, Alex Neilson and Howie Reeve. Here, in the company of singer and multi-instrumentalist Gayle Brogan, Debbie aims to explore, primarily through the medium of traditional song from Britain and beyond, ideas of persistence, resonance and deep cultural roots. Burd Ellen evokes dark landscapes and deep stories by means of innovative instrumentation, drone and sound-wash techniques which support detailed, often also quite intricately layered, vocal work to create a unique sonic atmosphere.
From its title alone, Says The Never Beyond may sound a cryptic proposition, but the album provides a thrilling and utterly hypnotic ride through the wintersong repertoire.
Cabane: Grande Est La Maison
There are no signposts leading to Cabane. Nothing prepares you. Even the famous (or semi-famous) names involved would not lead you to expect what you get with Grande Est La Maison. A collaborative effort using the vocals of Will Oldham (aka Bonnie ‘Prince’ Billy) and Kate Stables (This Is The Kit), along with the arrangements of Sean O’ Hagan (The High Llamas), Belgian composer, photographer, and videographer Thomas Jean Henri has created one of this years most beautiful pieces of work.
This is music of uncommon grace and nuance. Never maudlin or overwrought with emotion, it is a gentle elixir. Under the guise of Cabane, Thomas Jean Henri has created a work that is never fragile, yet filled with beauty. Grande Est La Maison works its way into your heart and soul, like a rose. There are thorns, but without them would the flower be as beautiful?
Catriona McKay: Love in Secret
One of the attractions of McKay’s playing is how visual it can be; whether it’s the musical inference of the sparkle of water in the light on Glitter Path or the coiling intertwining strands on Twisting of the Rope, there’s a vividness and purpose in her playing. Each listen reveals another layer as your senses are drawn ever deeper into the tunes.
Throughout the album are subtle playful breaks and improvisational stretches that bring a certain joy and elation resulting in an engaging musical journey from start to finish.
While this album has been, as she says, a challenge and a joy to create, it’s been worth the wait. It’s a bold and inspiring solo album that will elevate your soul, definitely one to feature in the “best of 2020”.
Arguably her finest work to date, there are creature comforts to be had here and a certainty that, in fashion or note, the name Charlie Dore shows no sign of fading.
Cinder Well: No Summer
Dark and yet cleansing, the skies of which Cinder Well sings may be overcast but, just as there is joy in the deserted asylum, in the stillness of Sundays, there is a light that shines through ‘No Summer’ that warms the chill in the soul.
Citizen Bravo, Raymond MacDonald & Friends – Return To Y’hup: The World Of Ivor Cutler
…those who can legitimately claim influence from Ivor are legion (and too numerous to begin citing here). Most relevant here, though, chief among these are the supremos of the Citizen Bravo experimental collective responsible for instigating the Return To Y’Hup project – Raymond MacDonald (saxophonist with Glasgow Improvisers Orchestra) and Matt Brennan (drummer, researcher and founder of Zoey Van Goey), who, with producers Malcolm Benzie (eagleowl, Withered Hand) and Andy Monaghan (Frightened Rabbit) and a host of cameo collaborators, have in essence re-created Ivor’s special mini-universe.
This suitably idiosyncratic (and mildly heady) exploration of Ivor’s creative world serves as a loving homage and sincere tribute, and compellingly illustrates why the estimable Mr Cutler was both of and out of, and yet also quite some measure ahead of, his time. This project abundantly and generously achieves its aim of re-affirming Ivor Cutler’s status as a “national treasure”.