Music for Spring 2026: Catrin Finch; Boiled in Lead; Breabach; American MIle; Hallie Grace; Clayton Chaney; Michael Rudd

What could be better than spring and new music releases, including a few Celtic gems?

Catrin Finch hails from Wales, a place that knows a few things about great harp music. Her new Notes to Self has an interesting hook. She uses the prompt of writing letters to herself when she was 13 and went by “Katy,” then transposes the feel of those notes into music for an all-instrumental album. Finch is 45 now, and has learned a few tricks along her path. For instance, many of the tracks use repeating musical patterns topped by bass lines, and looping. There are, at once, memorable melodies and an intimate feel. “13 opens as if a teen is practicing her lessons, but quickly shifts to her mature side in which the strings ring like bells amidst quieter secondary melodies.  Call it where force meets airiness. The video for second single “Kin” takes this a step further. In a girl-is-the-mother-of-the-woman sweep we see footage of Finch as a child practicing before cutting to her as an adult playing “Kin.” The music is majestic with lullaby-like contrast , but we can see her having some fun. (Check out the sneakers!)  She’s more formal on “Clear Sky,” though its ringing strings could also evoke a gentle rain. Most of the record is on the formal side, but “Black Holes” is… well, it’s hard to say. Soundscaping for sure, but with enough structure to make it more than random.  Put simply, Ms. Finch simply commands her instrument.

 

 

 

Does the band Boiled in Lead ring any bells? This Minneapolis-based quartet has been around since 1983, generally (but not always) as either a punk band or some sort of Celtic outfit (Celtic rock/punk/post-punk/world music, etc.). Bass player Drew Miller is the only original member in a band that has changed styles and personnel to follow the direction the musical winds are blowing. Their punk roots notwithstanding, the Boiled in Lead moniker comes from a version of the folk standard “The Two Sisters” as interpreted by Clannad, that gentlest of plugged-in Celts. At one point, BIL was seen as America’s answer to Fairport Convention and Steeleye Span. Later they drew comparisons to Hüsker Dü and more lately to Gogol Bordello.  On King of the Dogwoods BIL opts for a more subdued sound. Former lead vocalist Todd Menton has rejoined the band, Mo Engel now pounds the drums, and Haley Olson Miller plays a fiery fiddle. The song “King of the Dogwoods” does have a bit of early Steeleye vibe, though the song itself is somewhere along the musical spectrum between bluegrass and Goth. It’s about movie monsters and the things that perhaps lurk in the dark woods. Its very ambiguity is a step back from creepy. “Je t’Aime, Helena’’ sounds like something swampy from the bayou. They go full rock and reel on “Haley’s,” but what do you want to do with “Bucimis,” which is Bulgarian for both a folk dance and poison hemlock. It’s more a headbangers' dance than village fa-de-da, though one could imagine a poisoning. There are others built around folk melodies. So, what kind of band in BIL? The word eclectic comes to mind on an album with more variety than Jimmy Fallon.

 

 

I recently saw the Scottish band Breabach in concert and picked up their latest recording, Fás, a Scots Gaelic word that means rejuvenation, sprouting, or growth. The CD is from 2022, but it wasn’t yet part of my collection. I will go on record as saying they are far more exciting live than in the studio, but the song "Fás" is a good way to introduce yourself to a band whose Gaelic name translates “bouncy.” Breabach (bray’-ah-bak) will bounce you right out of your seat when both Calum MacCrimmon and Conal McDonagh put down their Celtic whistles and heft the Highland pipes. “The Old Collection” is a lively tune that shows how the band balance the pipes with normally quieter instruments such as fiddle, guitar, and double bass. The melody and song leads come from the husband/wife team of Ewan Robertson (guitar) and Megan Henderson (fiddle), which Henderson picking up most of the Gaelic-language offerings such as “Fàs” or “Eadar an DàBhràigh” (“Between the two braes), the latter on which she warbles like a fragile bird. “John Mackenzie’s March” is a lovely tune and song about loss. Breabach might not yet have the stature of classic bands like Silly Wizard, the Tannahill Weavers, or Ossian, but they’re getting there! Side Note: When I visited Orkney a few years ago I met Megan's brother and uncle!

 

To move away from Celtic, fans of Southern and country rock should sample American Mile and their album American Dream. “Straight from the Heartland” might make you think these guys are Bread Basket-born, what with talk of dusty roads, a beat-up truck, and a “worn-down home,” but they are based in Los Angeles. Lead singers Eugene Rice and Joe Perez belt out gritty songs and have voices made for arena rock, which is no doubt why they draw comparisons to both Aerosmith and Tom Petty. “Hard Workin’ People” has a soulful, funky feel to a song that celebrates the working class and an appreciation for their challenges. “TuffLivin’” is more of the same message, but their live version is dynamite: two electric lead guitars, bass, and a full drum kit. They’re plugged in, loud, and American Mile has stories to sing about.

 

 

Hallie Grace is an Indie-pop singer, so naturally she gets compared to Taylor Swift, Maggie Rogers, Sara Bareilles, etc.  I suppose that’s inevitable when: (a) she has just released her first full-length album Motivation, and (b) she plays piano as do those better-known figures. Nonetheless, it’s ironic for someone with a song titled “Imma Just Do Me” Motivation contains 11 tracks that investigate life’s ups and downs and what to do when the second of those arise. She should know; she’s had quite a few herself. Grace, now based in Charlotte, is the kind of artist who appeals to Millennials and Zoomers, peppy, kind of sassy, and confident of her abilities. “Vice” has dance grooves but I was more impressed by Grace’s balance of lower, darker tones and her birdlike highs. “Her Fight Remains” is a look at battling disease, especially Epidermolysis Bullosa skin disorder (sometimes called “butterfly skin”). Grace tends to go vocally from gentle to strong. Sometimes the production on her full-tilt vocals comes off as overproduced, but it’s hard to deny that she has a great set of pipes. “When the Rain Falls” reminds me of Patty Griffin and given my enthusiasm for Ms. Griffin consider that’s high praise. 

 

 

Clayton Chaney recently dropped the single, “When the Light Comes In” from his new recording Too Far. It’s a musing on love and religion, but the title alone could be his theme song. He left Arkansas for Los Angeles at age 18, and put performers like Roger Miller aside for meatier material from bands like Dawes. Chaney has a big voice and a fondness for flamboyance. After all, he has a song titled “Something About Los Angeles.” It’s a country-folk song as well, but somehow California country sounds different. It’s cleaner production-wise for one thing, in-the-studio kind of way. I’m fond of title track, “Too Far,” which is about dreams that don't come true, yet has a hopeful edge. Call is stripped down country acoustic that wears its honesty on the guitar stock. It has a homespun feel that hits you like a freight train after some of the glitz wears away. “Roots Grow Deep” has a similar feel and, man, can this dude stretch his voice.

 

 

 

Folks in Western Massachusetts may remember Michael Rudd, who lived here for a time after leaving New Jersey. He lit off for the West and now lives in New Mexico, a place that can stun with its beauty and make you weep over its poverty. He was the principal of a K-8 school at Acoma Pueblo, which has been occupied for over 900 years yet has a poverty rate of around 24 percent. Rudd went back to music after hearing songs in his head; his third studio album Ways of the World samples some of them. It’s an often poetic album that examines the human condition by digging deeper and pondering transcendence rather than the quotidian. If you know New Mexico, a song like “Water” resonates, though Rudd’s deep voice takes us to the depths of the soul. “On My Way”oozes darkness, but again in a contemplative way. Rudd uses strong baritone to sing the blues, bring us down, and lift us up. One example is “There’s a Rainbow in Your Mind.” There’s a rainbow in your mind/You got thunder in your shoes… You got nothing, left to lose. If you want bluesy Americana at a faster tempo try “Not Today.”

 

Rob Weir

 

 

Not Today:  https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=lF844OsFF6k&list=RDlF844OsFF6k&start_radio=1

Le Vent du Nord Grose Isle Chris Rawlins I’m With Her John Gorka Danish Vocal Ensemble Kiki Valera

 

Winter in New England deters a lot of touring musicians, but not those from Quebec. If you don’t do winter, you can’t live in the PQ. Sometimes I think Québecois musicians come to Massachusetts because it’s like Miami for them.

 

  

There may not be a better band anywhere in the province than Le Vent du Nord. They’ve just been through Massachusetts with their new recording Voisinages.  It roughly translates as neighbors or neighborhoods, but it’s a loaded word that can mean those next door, those who share your values, or those in the same general proximity. In other words, does Le Vent du Nord mean those who dance with them in their kitchens, those who share French language and culture, or the bad boy to the South of their borders (the United States). The short answer is yes. “Bienvenue” was written by Olivier Demers to welcome André Brunet to the band, but its flavor is that of set of tunes that begins slowly but eventually gets the dancers hot and sweaty. “L’Acadie” could be seen as Quebecois scat or mouth music, but the song’s title references a region that once stretched from Cape Breton to Louisiana; “Fleuve” is a wistful tribute to the St. Lawrence River; and “Du Nord Au Sud” is a spirited set of fiddle tunes, but the liner notes cheekily asks of the United States, “What comes next? When empires lose their marbles, we might as well try to redraw the maps!” The band positively rocks out on “Carillon.” If that sounds vaguely familiar, it’s about a battle at a fort now known as Ticonderoga. This album is brand new, so no live performance are up yet, but if you want to deeper taste of this amazing band, there are plenty of live music from previous albums. For the record, the Brunet brothers, André and the bear-like trickster Réjean, were once close neighbors of mine when I lived in Vermont and they in the village of Lacolle just across the border. They were the kind of neighbors you wanted to have!   

 

 

           

Whilst we’re in Quebec, let’s go deeper–to the place where the St. Lawrence River widens into a bay before emptying into the Atlantic Ocean. There’s a fine trio of musicians who call themselves Grosse Isle, in part an homage to Fiachra O’Regan, who plays uillean pipes, banjo, and whistles. Let’s play the game of “one of these things are not like the others.” The lead vocalist, pianist, fiddler, and clogger is named Sophie Lavoie, and the guitarist and other clogger is Francois-Félix Roy. You probably worked out that O’Regan is Irish, so what’s he doing in a band with two Québecois musicians? It has to do with Grosse Isle whose permanent population is zero, not the one in Michigan or Manitoba. Visitors come to see the remains of the “Ellis Island of Canada.” From 1832-1937 it was a screening center for immigrants. Sometimes it was a processing center and sometimes a quarantine station for those with infectious diseases. You perhaps know that the 1840s/50s were the time of the Irish potato famine. Many Irish families passed through Grosse Isle, got better, and stayed in the Quebec City area. This means that O’Regan makes sense in a Québecois trad band, as do the band’s jigged up Irish song and tunes. The band’s latest record is titled Homérique, an energetic tribute to Irish and Québecois heroes. It opens with “Gráinne Mhaol aux Cheveux de Braise,” Lavoie’s tribute to Ireland’s “pirate queen.” (Look her up, folks!) and moves on to “Mathilde la Dame Blanche,” a woman who threw herself into Montmorency Falls and whose ghost now haunts the place. One of the more unusual  hero tales is that of “Victor Delamarre,” a 5’5” weightlifter who defeated the much taller and more muscular Louis Cyr in a contest. That feat and Cyr are honored in the second part of a Lavoie-written set of tunes! The band show off their Irish chops on “Seanamhac Tube Station” and a cover of Paddy O’Brien’s “The Coming of Spring.” There are other heroes/heroines on the album. A small hint: The record is quite good–you even get a version of “Rocky Road to Dublin” (wait for it!)–but Grosse Isle is way more dynamic live. Catch them if you get a chance.

 

 

Don’t confuse Chris Rawlins with the UK mentalist of the same name. This one is an indie (for now) singer-songwriter from Chicago. His latest record is called Flyover, a pushback at the idea that Mid-America consists of “flyover” states. He likes songs that deal with memory, connections, and home. Some of his new material reveals his attraction/dissatisfaction relationship to the Midwest, which is how I’ve felt in drives from the Appalachian ridge-and-valley states to the Rockies. The flat states are fascinating, but they often feel hypnotically big in a “am I ever going to get to Ann Arbor?” way. The material on Flyover is gentle, which invites analogies to the late Tim Hardin. It also invites introspection. The song “Flyover” is enigmatic in whether it’s musing while flying or a troubled relationship song. “After Dark” is a dreaming/waking up song that contrasts how Rawlins felt as a kid and how things are different now. Rawlins states that a lot of songs began as his interpretations of snapshots and the Flyover explores ambivalence, mostly without trying to resolve it. “Anywhere” shows a weakness in the material. It’s a sweet love song, but the tune and vocal sound structurally and tonically similar to his other songs. My favorite on the record is “Firefly,” written when he visited Oregon, where  no one had heard of one! It’s also about getting older and making or missing connections. “Firefly” is catchy and has more life to it.

 

 

 

Wouldn’t it be cool to have a trio featuring Aoife O’Donovan (Crooked Still), Sarah Jarosz (Grammy Award winner), and Sara Watkins (Nickel Back)? In case you haven’t gotten the word, there is such a trio that calls itself I’m With Her. Their latest Rounder Records release is Wild and Clear and Blue, which just happens to be up for three Grammy Awards this year. One nomination is for “Ancient Light” in the Best Song category. It’s about figuring out what you want to say, be, and remember in order to be swimming in the ancient light. If you like harmony, you’ll love this track on which Jarosz takes the lead. I’ve long been enamored with O’Donovan’s calming voice with just a touch of huskiness. She’s the lead vocalist on the title song “Wildand Blue and Clear” but again it’s the harmonies that linger. This one is of formative childhood memories.  There are some serious bluegrass licks on fiddle (Watkins) and mandolin (Jarosz) that shape another O’Donovan vocal. I sometimes think that Hawkins’ lead vocals are too strident, as on “Standing on the Fault Line,” but I love her fiddling and the way she orchestrates her partners like an old-time preacher exhorting the congregation. Check out “Mother Eagle (Sing Alive”) and you’ll understand how the quiet power of I’m With Her makes everything seem like a call to meeting.

 

 

 

 

John Gorka has graduated to being a grizzled vet of the American folk music circuit. His latest record, unentitled, is one of the most optimistic he’s ever made. It opens with “My Favorite Place,” whose reveal is in the middle of a song. It’s a sunny, memorable piece, as light as a spring breeze. Speaking of spring, his second selection is “A Light Exists in Spring,” which encapsulates the specialness of how we feel it coming before it arrives and how it settles in slowly. He’s not the first to make that observation, yet we all know what he means when he sings of the link between nature and human nature. “Particle and Wave (Goodness in the World)” is Gorka’s response to the March for Our Lives movement and is destined to be sung at gatherings in need of an uplift. If you are wondering about the title, it’s another song about light, which is made up of particles and waves. And who, but a dry wit like Gorka would write a song about “Richard III,” the last Plantagenet king. Most of Gorka’s songs are short, as he follows in the footsteps of Jack Hardy (1947-2011) who famously wrote at least a song a week. Gorka modified that to one, then two, songs per month. It means he always has a lot of material at his fingertips, which he refines and eventually records an album. I suspect he was thinking of the 2012 discovery of Richard III’s body underneath a Leicester, England, parking lot. You’ll have to ask him next time he’s performing out your way.

 

 

 

 

The Danish National Vocal Ensemble are 18 singers from the Danish Broadcasting Corporation (DR).  Americans might recall that once upon a time we had PBS. It was a bit like the DR except that their vocal ensemble has an affinity for singing a cappella songs from the medieval through the classical and romantic periods. O Listen is a 22-track collection. It’s impossible to give you an overall review of 22 tracks, so here is a sampling of the righteous noise they can make. “Vester Camena” is Latin for “Your Muse.” They have a new conductor, Martina Batič, who leads the ensemble through works from Slovenian composer Uroš Krek. His “Three Autumn Songs” suite is powerful if you are a fan of choral music. Try “Autumn Song, No. 1.” The Ensemble also does work with the national symphony, this time from composer Else Marie Pad, who is described as “a modernist musical Rosary.” Lend your ear to “Maria: No. 2, Amare.”  Modernist indeed! It's a bit jarring for my taste, but it does have aspects of the sacred and might be your kind of mass.

 

  

Kiki Valera comes from a famous musical family in Cuba and has done just about everything a musician can do. He has taught, soloed, played in bands, produced, composed, directed, and has served as a sound engineer. He plays numerous instruments but is an acknowledged master of the cuatro, a mid-sized guitar about the size of the Martin 000 series. In the live clip of “El Cuatro de tula,” he is on your left with a cuatro in his hands. The album Vacilón Santiaguero features Valero in a group filled with blaring brass and hand drums and percussion. Here they play a rumba, “Sobre una Tumba una Rumba.” Other selections include boleros and danceable selections. There’s even a song titled “Marijuana.” Here’s a clip of him with other family members playing “Vida Parrandera” and the street crowd busting out their dancing shoes.

 

Rob Weir

 

Frigg: From Finland to You

 

Frigg

Dreamscapes

 

For many years I wrote Celtic and folk music reviews for SingOut! Magazine. I don’t recall exactly when it was, but the editor asked me what I knew about Scandinavian music. It wasn’t much, but I put myself on a crash course and before long I was one of the go-to reviewers for all things Norwegian, Swedish, Danish, and Finnish. One of the bands I wrote about was Frigg from Finland. 

 

Frigg

 

The band’s name pays homage to Norse goddess of marriage, prophecy, and motherhood. In some old Germanic languages her name is spelled Fría or Frí, which gives us the word Friday. As for the band, in their earliest days they played lots of reworked folk songs and traditional tunes. They still play some, but they are now in their 25^th year and, after expected lineup changes, they’ve spread their wings, write a lot of their own material, and have picked up influences from Americana and bluegrass music–not that you’d necessarily recognize them filtered through a Finnish lens. I liked Frigg back then and I like them now. A few weeks ago they played a show I caught in Whately, which is where I picked up Dreamscapes, the band’s tenth album. It is, as its title suggests, a concept album, a series of day dreams, musings on Finnish culture, and a splash of mysticism analogous to Shakespeare’s Midsummer’s Night Dream.  

 

“Troll’s Twilight” is an example of Scandinavian mythology. The liner notes advise, “When trolls take the lead in the waltz, you can never be certain what’s real and what’s mere illusion.” In Finnish folklore, troll can sometimes appear in human form, but mostly they are big, dumb, and ugly, but also magical, mean, and definitely not Christian. The live in isolated places, but the best advice is avoid them at all costs. Like vampires they do their worst when the sun sets; sunlight can turn them into stone, hence many land  and features are said to be petrified trolls. No wonder that the tune is a combination of ominous and wild dance.

 

By contrast, “Valsette” embodies the promise of spring, with three fiddles and bass invoking the flight of honeybees returning. It also showcases the band’s balance and timing on a tune that could otherwise drift into cacophony. A lot of Frigg’s music is danceable, but look out for correct spelling. A polksa isn’t the same as a polka. The latter is a Czech and Polish dance in 2/4 where a polska is in ¾ time and often has pauses. “Alarm Polska” is an example of how Scandinavians (and Scots) often prefer things in ¾ timing. The structure might seem similar to Irish jigs, except the latter are generally in 6/8 timing. Notice, though, the lighter middle section and coda of “Alarm Polska.” Most of the selections on Dreamscapes have a link to dance. “Vastkusten Twist” borrows from an old minuet, “Vittra” is a square dance, and there is another polska and a different waltz. The best way to appreciate Frigg is see them live. Here's a clip of “Norrsken” (not on the current album) that captures their energy and freewheeling innovation on the stage. Not all of the current members of Frigg are on the current tour, but as you can see from the picture I took in Whately, there’s no shortage of talent that can step in when needed. 

 

Frigg on Stage in Whately, MA

 

 

Rob Weir

 

 

 

 

November 2024 Music Roundup: Julian Taylor, Banning Eyre, Dekel, FBR, Srikanth, Toc de Crida

 

I’m running out of superlatives for the amazing West Indian/Mohawk/Canadian performer Julian Taylor, he of the silky smooth but powerful voice and incisive pen. If you’ve not heard Pathways, by all means correct that oversight. That song alone is worth the sticker price. It’s a gentle and poignant look at moving through life. Who can dispute advice such as … be gentle, be kind be grateful, take time, remember we’re in this together/let’s just be who we are, follow our hearts, and dream that love is forever. Yeah, he’s that kind of performer–the sort who can make you weep, feel wistful, and occasionally sad or mad. “Love Letters” is a sweet waltz tempo song, but he even induce calmness by asking Do we even know what we’re doing to ourselves. “Ain’t Life Strange” implores us to look deep into ourselves, especially when we feel “numb.” Taylor even gives us a bit of achy breaky country in “Running Away,” but at least it’s more prairie country than another overly processed Nashville song. Once again Julian Taylor is my artist of the month.

 

 

Banning Eyre and I share history in that we both once wrote for Global Music Magazine and we both play guitar. That’s about where the similarities end, as Eyre in an amazing guitarist and I astound people with my ineptitude. Eyre’s Bare Songs 1 is a 14-track delight that highlights his bright and precise picking. It ranges from the dreamy “Fifteen Rounds and No Decision” to the Galician-meets-Ukraine “Portal 7 " to the rain-like “Kaku Hiva” to “Djelimady,” the latter reminiscent of Eyre’s forays into Afro Pop. This is a perfect album for serious listening or tasteful background music.

 

     

 

Dekel is an Israeli singer and composer. Her new record Starlings showcases many things, including her love of nature. The title track is a haunting song with near drone-like cello setting the beat. Her voice and the pacing are pop-like, but there is much more depth and, yes, it’s partly about the humble little bird, but listen and you’ll hear that the starlings are witnesses. “So Much Logic” has accordion and clarinet. Although the song dances, the vocal is darker, and it pops like a cross between klezmer and something from Zorba the Greek. “Meet Me Halfway” is klezmer with a hip hop beat and I’ll leave it to you determine if the song is religious or the starting point for negotiating a relationship. On “Sing With MeSisters,” Dekel sings in deeper, more mature tones. It's an unusual song in that it toggles between introspective and anthemic. Put directly, Dekel is hard to pigeonhole. She has a habit of never being quite what you think.

 

 

Tim Hunter (acoustic guitar, vocal, harmonica) and Malarie McConaha (electric guitar, vocals) of FBR describe themselves as “two hippies,” but their music within a band of six is more rock, blues, and country. If you’re wondering about the name, it’s shorthand for Leonard Cohen’s song “Famous Blue Raincoat.” I suppose FBR sometimes sings about dark subjects, but their vibe on Ghost is not much like Cohen’s. “Before I Drown” is wrapped in an electric mix that gets progressively bigger to build McConaha’s desperation as she tells of a doomed relationship marked by fighting and booze. “Rain On” has a big rock sound as well with McConaha muscular vocals and splash of blistering guitar. By contrast, “Bottle of Blues” is country blues with a roadhouse vibe. Another departure is “Skies of Donegal Blues,” but don’t expect an Irish tune; it’s more of a big-voiced wailer. And why not? McConaha can deliver.

 

Short Reviews:

 

 

 

 

If you’d like to sample music from South India, try Jyotsna Srikanth and her album Carnatic Nomad. Carnatic music is considered “classical music” in India, a term that bears little resemblance to Western connotations. It refers to its complexity and its place in tradition. Srikanth, who now lives in Britain, is grounded in Carnatic violin and vocals. Other instruments include various hand percussion, lutes, and the stringed tambura that often acts as a drone. Try “Manasa Sancharare” to appreciate her string prowess and “Tiruppugal” for something a bit livelier.

 

 

 

The island of Mallorca lies off the eastern coast of Spain and north of Algeria in the Balearic Sea. The six-piece trad band Toc de Crida features lightly modernized tunes from North Africa, Catalonia, and Valencia, with some departures across the Atlantic. Their self-named album is joyous. No matter where they land the music sounds like you’ve stumbled upon a celebration and have just discovered an amazing group you never knew existed. Try these two tracks.: "Jota de Son Pudol" and "Can Bou." FYI, a jota is a Spanish dance and if you listen to other tracks and hear unusual bagpipes, it’s the xeremia, an odd-looking instrument that’s like a watermelon-shaped sheep’s bladder with attached pipes.

 

 

A xeremia

 

 

Rob Weir

October 2024 Music: Melanie MacLaren– Lucy Isabel – Abbie Thomas– Disappearing Act– Sicilian Music

 

 

 

 

October was a really great month for music, so much so I can’t get it all into one column. Let’s start with my Artist of the Month: Melanie MacLaren (above).

 

Melanie MacLaren might be the long-awaited Gen Z Folk Queen-To-Be. Her Bloodlust EP oozes “emergent talent.”  The eponymous title track has infectious melody hooks, bouncy internal rhymes, impeccable pacing, a voice that cuts through the instrumental mix, and something to say lyrically. Remember “Laika,” the little dog Russia sent to space to the sorrow and fury of millions around the world? Decades later, MacLaren adds her tears and outrage. Her finger-picked, gentle song brings the little pooch back to life in our hearts. “Get it Back” takes up the topic of things that slip away in different ways–moments glanced and lost from a speeding train window, death, grief …. The theme might be dark, but similar to “Laika,” there’s grace in memory. If you wonder if she can sound this good live, check out “Henry Hudson” (which isn’t on this EP). It’s about the man, the river, MacLaren’s family, changes in her New York neighborhood, and her innermost self. Who can’t relate to her linking refrain: Time, time, time/I’ll stay out of your way/If you stay out of mine. Kudos for having the guts to admit her shame of once judging of her grandfather’s trailer park: Thought I was too good for it, but I wasn’t. I am sincere when I say this song made me weep. MacLaren draws comparisons to Gillian Welch, but as much as I hate to saddle anyone with such a high-expectations comparison, how about Joni Mitchell in her wide-eyed youth? I don’t mean it in any copycat way, but, yeah, Melanie McLaren is that good. It would not be hyperbolic to call her voice ethereal. 

 

 

 

Lucy Isabel scores with All the Light. Note the spelling of her name. Although Jared Anderson, the producer of her new LP, has worked with Jason Isbell, Lucy just happens to have a similar-sounding surname. She’s a New Jersey gal now living in Nashville. She works well with bands, but All the Light highlights her inner folk persona. “A Better Life” is typical of the honest, vulnerable, and hopeful songs on the album. It opens with a lovely arpeggio that slides into to a sweet melody that frames a song about a choice: to let go or settle down. “Blind Ambition” speaks truth to dreams, namely the realization embedded in the old adage that the older we get, the less we know–because life and relationships are more complex than we ever imagined. “Miles From Home” shows off some of the album’s polished production; call it bluegrass-inflected folk in a pop wrapper. Nonetheless, a stripped down song like “A Hero’s Welcome” is even more affecting in communicating love’s promises and vicissitudes.

 

 

 

 

If you want to switch gears, try Abbie Thomas and The Crazy Hearts and Not Gonna Lie. Thomas is a combination of blue-eyed soul, retro country, and big-voice jazz. The title track showcases said big voice in a soulful plea to “hold on” when things seem “impossible.” But she takes no crap. On “Bitch Make the Coffee” she stands up for female workers expected to endure abuse to keep their jobs. Thick bass lines, electric guitar, and jazzy keys set an ominous mood. “Wild & Free” is a nostalgic no-apologies song about growing up and making ends meet, though by implication it could be any family, anywhere, anytime. It has a jazzy feel, though the key structure breaks a few rules. It and each song on the record puts Thomas upfront and lets her riff with the band. She is an indie artist. I suspect that won’t last much longer, but it’s open for discussion how a label will, well, label her.

 

 The Disappearing Act is a band-not-band of three longtime friends from Texas. Dallas-based Salim Nourallah is perhaps the best known, but Bob Blumenfeld is also a fine songwriter, and John Dufilho has a knack for bringing everything together. For lack of a better term, the three are a cross between folk and 60s bands in their quieter moments. Mainly you get the sound of synergy. Got that? Maybe it’s best to listen. “Why is Everyone So Damn Happy?” is an ironic and upbeat support of being glum: Why is everyone so damn up/Why won’t everybody just shut up…. but I know this will blow away. You might imagine some blood-curdling thrills in a song named “Gun Barrel City,” but it’s actually as languidly-paced as a Jim Jarmusch film and just as deeply sardonic. Put a happier melody to this and you’ve got a carefree rejoinder in “Santorini,” and if you’ve ever been there you know exactly what they mean. If you like their vibe, also try “People in the Movies” or “I Feel Like I’m Howard Hughes,” the first evocative of a retro creepy film score and the second that could be from an offbeat early ‘60s TV program.

 

 

 

One reviewer has called Rachel McIntrye Smith the “Loretta Lynn for the TikTok Generation.” Maybe, though her old-style country vibe seems more like a natural inclination than an attempt to channel. I guess her slight twang and a song like “Stoke the Coals” invites such a Lynn comparison. As we hear on “Hold the Ladder,” though she’s more of a songbird than a hard hitter. This also comes through in “Grow Up Slow,” which walks a fine line between saccharine imagery and seizing her own identity. Unlike a lot of Southern wannabes, Smith actually hails from Tennessee, which stamps her EP Honeysuckle Friend with homegrown authenticity.

 

 

Finally, something that falls into the categories of folk music for scholars and specialized taste, there is Italy-Sicily, two dozen tracks (save one) collected by ethnomusicologist Sergio Bonanzinga between 1984-2004. A few things for the curious. Sicily, the “ball” kicked by the boot of Italy, has long been a crossroads. Although distinctive styles emerged in the 16^th century, Sicilian music shows many influences: mainland Italian, Greek, Arab, Byzantine…. It also features a lot of polyphony which, in simple terms, means individual melodies woven together to harmonize. Here’s your link for the entire album, from drumming to dances to village songs. You might find it useful to use your slider to see what grabs you. If you’re moved to buy a track or so, go to the Website for the French label Ocora and type in Bonanzinga as your finding aid.

 

 

Rob Weir

 

 

 

Music for April 2024: Otava Yo, Steve Martin, Robby Hecht, Afro-Semitic Experience and more

 

 

I avoided Russian music in protest against the war in Ukraine until I came upon the St. Petersburg-based Otava Yo whose spearhead, Alexey Belkin, also opposes the war; he has a Ukrainian mother and a Latvian wife. Otava Yo has suspended concerts in Russia because of the war, a gutsy move given Putin’s iron hand and a reduced opportunity to shop its new recording Loud and Clear. I don’t speak a word of Russian, but I can tell you it’s one it’s an exciting record. The band is often called a folk rock band because of its emphasis on traditional music. In Belkin’s words, “[in] turbulent times … [when] everything we know literally crumbles before our eyes,” a return to heritage reinvigorates. (They also add modern touches.)

 

Otava Yo display an array of expected instruments–fiddles, guitar, bass, drums–but also those less familiar: glockenspiel, fife, gusli (a psaltery in the zither family), zhaleika (a type of hornpipe), and volynka (Russian bagpipes). Add the female vocal ensemble Vasilisa and the result is something that sounds like a hybrid of Swedish folk/grunge band Garmarna and the high-octane vocals of Finland’s Värttinä. Try “Don’t You Fly, Nightingale” for robust singing. Though it’s one of the more “subdued” pieces on the album you can see and hear what Belkin means about leaning on tradition during trying times. “This One” gives insight into their goofy sense of humor and how a gusli integrates into a tune. For crashing sounds, lusty voices, bagpipes and psychedelic fiddles, “Good Evening” will get you energized. “Timonia” reminds me of Quebeçois music when the performers decide to go full-scale insouciant. It’s over the top, but in a good way! I love Otava Yo and Loud and Clear is my album of the month.

 

 

I vividly recall when Steve Martin did a standup act at my Pennsylvania college before  he was a big star He was so funny that we rolled out thinking, “Who is this guy?” Back then, he had a banjo as comic prop. It’s no longer a secret that he really knows how to play it. If you’ve not gotten the word, listen to him exchange licks with Grammy Award bluegrass banjo artist Alison Brown, mandolin wizard Sam Bush, and Grammy Award fiddler Stuart Duncan. Martin even handles the vocals on “Bluegrass Radio” on a new Compass Records release.

 

 

New Haven-based Afro-Semitic Experience began as the meeting of two jazz-infused minds, African-American pianist Warren Byrd and bass player David Chevan, a white Jew. It grew into a movable feast of up to eight musicians in a mixed-race ensemble that ventures into jazz, funk, world music, swing, group singing, and social justice offerings. You’ll hear most of them on My Feet Began to Pray, words attributed to the late Representative John Lewis when he was a young man on the 1965 march from Selma to Montgomery. The band commemorates that episode, all so traumatic back then but now a pivotal moment that justifies the group’s sunny  treatment. Check out Byrd leading the band in “Unity in the Community,” which has a decided Black church feel. Then duck into the synagogue for “Rakhmones Nign,” rakhmones being Yiddish for mercy or empathy. “Moanin’” opens with some scat and sways into bebop-influenced jazz with sizzling horns and swinging keys. Get the picture?

 

Anandi is the one-name handle for Portland, Oregon-based jazz singer Anandi Gefroh. A Better Way is jazz-based but contains message music, some rock instrumentation, and tinges of pop. Anandi is Sanskrit for bliss and she brings that, her yoga practices, and her devotion to social justice to the fore. The title track, for instance, probes homelessness and poverty. Producer/keyboardist Greg Goebel lays down solid hooks that add drama to Anandi’s simple-yet-profound condemnation of the status quo: There’s got to be a better way. She gives a big-vocal bluesy soul treatment to “Truth, Peace, and Solitude,” a call to balance body, soul, and mind. Other songs are reverential (“Mandela”), reminders that love can be like Kahlil Gibran’s A Tear and a Smile (“Pleasure With the Pain”), and pleading with a scintilla of common sense (“Please Don’t Go to Bed Angry”). She also does a jazz cover of Jim Pepper’s “Witchi Tai To,” widely regarded to as the first Native American hit single back in 1969. You can decide what you think of a non-Native woman covering a peyote ritual chant. 

  

Robby Hecht titled his new release Not a Number. It’s the title track as well, his attempt to put faces on the Covid’s human toll. His echoey guitar is designed to haunt and hurt. In numerous ways, the same sentiments are personalized elsewhere. This album deals with other forms of misfortune, disappointment, and struggle: divorce, sadness, recovery…. Hecht’s voice is perfect for conveying poignancy–sweet, but with a hint of pain. Note the content and video visuals of “Someone to Dance With.” He sings: I’m trying as hard as I can/To follow the steps of my well-rehearsed plan/To keep my wingtips on the ground/But up in my head I’m spinning around. The vid ends with dog adoption, but I’m pretty sure that’s not the dance he envisioned whilst acting as the proverbial third wheel. “Old Radio” is surface nostalgia, but its folk-styled wistfulness suggests both memory and yearning. As a transition Hecht offers a mirthful homage to “Tattoos.” That’s not my thing, but if it’s yours it’s show-and-tell time. I’m always a fan of well-crafted songs, though, and Hecht delivers.

 

If you don’t know the difference between bluegrass and “old-time” music, the first is recently composed and slicker, whereas the second is traditional and more raw. Listen to Molsky’s Mountain Drifters for a clinic in the latter. Bruce Molsky plays banjo, guitar, and fiddler but it’s the last of these in which he’s in the upper crust. Hence,  in his trio work Molsky leaves the banjo and guitar in the capable hands of Allison de Groot and Stash Wyslouch respectively. All of their recordings are wonderful but I recently took advantage of a two-for-one offer to score Closing the Gap and the eponymously titled Molsky’s Mountain Drifters. Theirs is Appalachian music stripped to its basics, yet filled with verve, energy, and expert musicianship. “There’s a Bright Side Somewhere” ought to get you sashaying. If you know the folk standard “Stewball,” “Old Kimball” is closer to its root. “Old Jawbone” is pure infectious hills music and “Cumberland Gap” is a classic Americana tune.  There’s lots more you can find online to whet your appetite.   

 

Rob Weir

November 2023 Artist of the Month: San Miguel Fraser

 

 

 

San Miguel Fraser

Dots of Light

Culburnie CUL129D

 

During the 2020 Covid lockdown, musicians were forced off the road. Luckily it couldn’t stop the flow of creative energy. In Valladolid, Spain fiddlers Maria San Miguel and Galen Fraser took part in the “Stay at Home Festival.” It was a key moment in the evolution of the duo San Miguel Fraser. Maria, who is also an accomplished singer, is Castilian, but was schooled as a classical musician and excelled as an adroit interpreter of Galician and Basque music. Galen is a Berklee School of Music grad, but you could say he learned fiddle at his father’s knee. That would be Alasdair Fraser, one of the finest fiddlers on the planet. Somewhere along the line Galen also learned to play excellent cittern. The album Dots of Light is defined by the way in which San Miguel and Fraser use tradition and dance music as a springboard for roots music explorations.

 

“Dots of Light” opens the album and is, appropriately dedicated to those who acted as rays of hope illuminating the way through the dark moments of the lockdown. That’s Natalie Haas adding cello to a mid-tempo mix somewhat evocative of Scandinavian music. Close your eyes and you can imagine fireflies fliting about, sometimes deliberately and at other moments in interweaving patterns. “Cocido” comes a few tracks later. The CD linear notes inform us that it was one of the first tunes they created as a duo. It has a primal point counterpoint feel with San Miguel taking the lead and playing high notes that border on stridency. Fraser frames it by alternately bowing lower, plucking notes, or using his fiddle percussively. Cocido translates as “boiled” and the tune feels like it bubbled out of them.

 

“Bolero De Algorde” was composed in honor of the walled city of Zamora located in Castile and León region near the border with Portugal. Zamora is bisected by the Duero/Duoro River, a region known its wines in both nations. Miguel showcases her vocal talents with emotive gusto. At times the fiddle exudes a Roma vibe, but with quickened accents that invite you to click your heels. San Miguel showcases vocals exuding emotion and gusto. These days the bolero is associated with Cuban music and love songs, but it actually originated in Spain.

 

 

The jota/xota is another Spanish dance in 3/4 time­–sometimes 6/8–and it’s exuberant however its played. San Miguel and Fraser join forces with the Galician duo Caamaño & Amerixeiras. “Jota deGuijar/Xota deRiotortoto” has a very different sound. Galicia is so named for the Gallaeci, Celtic tribes that once occupied northwestern Spain and Portugal. This set invites you to add some quick time hand clap filler as you sway to and fro. Note how the tunes build, settle, and build anew. I’ve also added a link to Miguel and Fraser playing a different set of jotas. Notice Miguel’s precise fingering, perhaps an offshoot of her classical training. Above all, you can see the joyousness of the jota. As much as they concentrate, they can’t help but break out into smiles.

 

Dots of Light ends with a set perfect for the season: “A Waltz For Winter.” Like the other eight tracks, Miguel and Fraser let the tune determine the pacing rather than simply seeking to dazzle. This one goes from something as quiet as a downy snowfall to a blizzard and back to gentle. In all, Dots of Life is a reason to celebrate life and dance.

 

Rob Weir