Mànran: ÙRAR

Mànran – Ùrar

Independent – 22 October 2021

Most bands and musicians have tales of woe to tell after the events of 2020/21, but Mànran fall into a class of their own. In the months before the lockdowns began, they’d welcomed two new members into the line-up, the much in demand singer and song writer, Kim Carnie and Aidan Moodie, the guitarist and vocalist who’s made such an impact over the last couple of years with Gnoss. They’d hardly had time to bed in before all opportunities for live performance were lost and even meeting up as a band became impossible. We can be thankful there was little chance they’d just sit and twiddle their thumbs and so, quickly adapting to remote collaboration and recording, Mànran produced the eleven tracks that now make up this fascinating new album.

Ùrar opens with Ailean, traditional Gaelic lyrics set to a tune composed for the band by the winner of the 2014 BBC Young Musician of the year Mischa MacPherson. The liner notes, very usefully for non-Gaelic speakers, explain that the lyrics give voice to a grieving woman whose husband, father and three brothers have been lost at sea. The song opens with a slow, deep drum beat, accompanied by a bass note that sets the appropriate mood but without giving a feeling that what’s to come might be a dirge. This is reinforced when Kim’s voice comes in over the rhythm with a lightness of tone that belies the message of the lyrics, but perfectly fits with the form of the song as it alternates lines of meaningful lyric and repetitions of mouth music, a refrain rather than a chorus. A brief fiddle line from Ewen Henderson marks the end of the first stanza and, as the vocal returns, you realise a more varied drum rhythm with cymbals and snare has crept in almost unnoticed. The pattern is repeated in the next break as Aidan’s guitar drives the rhythm a little faster accompanied by Ryan Murphy’s whistle. For the next stanza, it is the turn of male voices, Aidan and Ewen, to back up the refrains and fiddle, guitar and whistle all continue to contribute. As all this accompaniment to Kim’s vocal builds in complexity it’s never allowed to intrude on the vocal, the mix ensures that Kim’s voice stays clearly in the foreground. I’ve allowed myself the luxury of dwelling on this first track as it beautifully illustrates how well the new members have integrated into the band on the one hand and, on the other, are helping Mànran to delve ever deeper into the Gaelic tradition.

With track 2, Crossroads, we’re back in familiar territory, a reel written by Ryan, taken at a good pace but nothing too raucous. An impression that is, in no small part, thanks to how well the sound has been blended. Listen to Mark Scobbie, he’s playing a full drum kit, and there are passages where that playing is distinctly lively, as befits the tune. But the sound of the drums isn’t what the ear picks out first, pipes, accordion, flute, all figure more strongly. Recording and mixing was the responsibility of Ross Saunders at Glasgow’s Gloworm Studios while the producer credit goes to Breabach’s Calum MacCrimmon. Ross, of course, also just happens to be the Manran bassist. He and Calum together have produced a beautifully layered texture to the recording that makes listening a pleasure, even before you start thinking about the music itself.

The following track, Crow Flies, reinforces just how significant Kim and Aidan are to the expanded Mànran line-up. During the enforced lockdown separations they co-wrote a song dealing with a topic that engaged the attention of many of us as we navigated our way through that period, supporting each other through uncertain times. Lyrics that play meaningfully around the line “I’ll be your guiding moonlight” are set to a simple melody backed by strummed guitar and an easy-paced drum beat. Kim sings the verses, joined by Aidan harmonising on the choruses. Eventually, fiddle and accordion join in the accompaniment. The overall feeling the song generates is a cheering one and it’s easy to see why it was chosen to be released as a taster single in advance of the album. There’s one other song with lyrics in English, San Cristóbal, written by Kim it also concerns itself with the strength that can come from those close to us when times are tough.

The remaining Gaelic songs are a mix of traditional and recent compositions. Black Tower starts with a pipe tune written by Ewen. That’s later overlain by Kim singing words that paraphrase an old Gaelic tale offering an explanation for the origin of Pulpit Rock by the side of Loch Lomond. An old tale given this new setting by Mischa MacPherson. Mischa also had a hand in the album’s puirt à beul set, Puirt Ùrar. In three parts, the first, Gheibh Thu Caoraich sets traditional lyrics to a new melody jointly composed by Mischa and Kim. After a passage of piping that drives the track to a faster pace, Kim is back with a set of traditional lyrics and these flow into the third section with lyrics written by Ewen. Such interweaving of the traditional with the modern is a feature throughout the album, leaving no doubt that Mànran continues to produce exciting new music grounded in a tradition they both honour and respect. Two songs in the middle of the album give a perfect Illustration. The first, Briogais, is a jokey traditional song concerning some distinctly oversized trousers, anyone familiar with the song would recognise it immediately from the Mànran version, the vocals taken straight from the tradition and given a light dusting of accompaniment. The next track, Foghar, has a very different pedigree. Written by Ewen, the lyrics originally appeared as a poem, winning for him the MacDonald of Sleat Prize for Gaelic Poetry in 2015. Written in the 21st Century but built around a centuries-old Gaelic literary tradition, using the symbolism of young trees to mourn the passing of friends who died far too young. It’s a song that deserves to be remembered for years to come, to become one of those rare contemporary songs that frequently get mistaken for traditional.

With the two new arrivals in the band both contributing vocals and writing songs, I couldn’t resist an initial focus on that aspect of Mànran’s music. But the massive instrumental talent in the band is, of course, still there, providing sympathetic arrangements to all the songs and preserving its stellar reputation by contributing three exceptional tune sets. Crossroads has already been mentioned whilst The Loop, a three tune set deserves special praise. It opens with The Catalpa Rescue written by Ryan with his uilleann pipes in mind while Garry Innes’s composition, Kept in the Loop, inevitably brings his accordion to the fore. The set finishes with Room 215 borrowed from Peatbog Faeries’ piper, Peter Morrison. With Ewen’s pipes finding their place in this final part, the set is able to feature all of Mànran’s heavy, instrumental artillery. A rather more restrained couple of tunes, Lahinch Beach from Ryan and Alpaca from Ewen, combine for the final instrumental track, reminding us how effective slower-paced tunes can be when strategically placed to contour an album.

Over eleven years of gigs and now four studio albums, Mànran have always shown a healthy appetite for innovation but with Ùrar they’ve taken that to a new level. By enthusiastically embracing the myriad, exciting opportunities presented by the new line-up they’ve produced an album that sets a fresh benchmark against which to judge contemporary Gaelic music. With its increased emphasis on their own song writing, Ùrar is an album that expertly balances vocal with instrumental, traditional with self-penned, all the while encouraging the vitality that has become their trademark to shine through. Their many supporters can take heart, they’re showing no signs of relaxing into a band’s equivalent of middle age.