KATE MacLEOD
Deep in the Sound of Terra
Courier Music 007
★★★★★
Would you believe me if I told you that the best Celtic
music album of the year was made by a woman who hails from Washington, DC
and now lives in Utah? You should. Kate MacLeod's Deep in the Soul of Terra was inspired by her reflections on the
natural splendors of the West and her artist-in-residence stint with the
Entrada Institute, an environmental and heritage center that celebrates the
topography and human geography of the Colorado Plateau. But fear not; this is
not a cup of herbal tea with a wide-eyed New Age devotee, rather a serious
reflection on nature and the music it inspires.
MacLeod kicksoff with "Blue Sky Prelude," a piece that immerses listeners rather
than hooking them with clever licks. It has grandeur and atmospherics galore,
but of the kind that evoke adjectives such as dreamy, museful, and mystical.
Like everything on the record, it takes it time so that we are saturated and
sink into the arrangement. Take a listen* to "The Land Before Man"
set; it will be one of the best eight minutes of your life. You might catch a
Western vibe from Skip Gorman's backing mandolin and James Scott's evocative
guitar, but the overall effect I akin to one of Alasdair Fraser's more introspective
works. "Assonet Bay" is another in that vein, especially in the
purity of MacLeod's fiddle notes. Still another wondrous piece is the
"Sand in the Breeze" set, which opens with a semi-classical feel
before settling into a quiet, calm place and cutting to a fast take out. If you
want to appreciate how good MacLeod is, consider that Kevin Burke is on this
track—as second fiddle. MacLeod also
strikes a formal pose on "Ice on Lake Mohonk," which brings to mind a
courtly dance, and which finishes with "The Mohonk Jig." Don't think
raucous pub; if ever the descriptor 'stately' applies to a jig, it's here.
This album is as brilliant as it is thoughtful. "The
Oregon Trail" has a lonesome opening that cuts to a casual long trail
saunter; you slow things down when you are small and the land is vast. You
might expect some lickety split string action on a tune titled "The Train
Across the Great Salt Lake," but this one leaves the depot slowly, gathers
pace gently—listen for the train effects added by the band Otter Creek—and then
settles into a comfortable groove. It ends by gliding into the station, not
roaring to a stop. On the album's final track we are treated to MacLeod's vocal
on the delicate and instantly likable "Let the Dove Come In." If you
like Celtic music salted with hints of classical, bluegrass, and old-time
music, you're going to love this one.
Rob Weir
*This house concert recording is a stripped down version of the album recording.
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