“I don’t expect you will really understand the beauty of the softly simmering cauldron with its shimmering fumes, the delicate power of liquids that creep through human veins, bewitching the mind, ensnaring the senses… I can teach you how to bottle fame, brew glory, even death…”
–Professor Severus Snape, Harry Potter and the Sorcerer’s Stone

The above quote reflects the near-impossible task I’ve been struggling with for months; namely, how to describe and review The Return of Pansy Smith and Violet Jones, the first release by Emma Bull and Lorraine Garland in their pseudoimaginary guises as the musical duo known as the Flash Girls. I’ve tried to find the right words to describe something so ineffably unique, so different from the normal run of things, that it truly would have been easier to bottle fame and brew glory. Even as my editors graduated from worried emails to threatening letters to sending out the Green Man Brute Squad to try and chain me to my desk, even as my wife began to wonder why I kept muttering ‘Flash Girls… Flash Girls…’ in my sleep, even as the cats complained about litterboxes gone forgotten while I concentrated on this problem, I worried about how to explain the Flash Girls, much less explain why they’re worth listening to. Finally, as I was on the run from the secret Green Man Internal Inquisitors, being chased by nuns with guns and monks with trained monkeys over the wilds of Scotland, and taking refuge in the Goblin Market, a solution came to me. And all it would cost would be my soul… That being something I have no right to sell, I bartered away one of the much-coveted War For the Oaks movie trailers, in exchange for this advice: “Start from the beginning.”

Who are the Flash Girls? That depends on who you ask. On one level, they are, as I’ve said, Emma Bull and the Fabulous Lorraine Garland. Emma Bull is best known around these parts as one of our favorite authors, having written War For The Oaks, Bone Dance, Finder and more, both alone and in collaboration with her husband, Will Shetterly. She’s long been associated with the Minneapolis-based writer’s group known as the Scribblies, and currently lives in southern California, where she’s hoping to take over the world through song and written word. The Fabulous Lorraine refuses to divulge anything about herself more profound than that she’s from Michigan, may or may not be descended from space aliens, and is extraordinarily musically inclined. Together, the duo combine folk, Gothic, traditional, and contemporary styles for a truly unique listening experience.

On a second level, the Flash Girls are Pansy Smith and Violet Jones, a musical pair whose origins are shrouded in mystery and doubt. They may have toured Europe. They may have performed in a movie in 1932. They were almost reunited in the 1950s on “This Is Your Life” but that fell through. Due to the unreliability of sources and witnesses, it’s been said that “… it sounds like [Emma and Lorraine] have devoted [their] lives to recreating the musical achievements of two women who might not even have existed.” It seems as though no one knows the truth, though Neil Gaiman has come the closest of any outsider. For a transcript of his conversation, see the liner notes of The Return of Pansy Smith and Violet Jones, reprinted here.

On a third level, and this one verifiable, Pansy Smith and Violet Jones were two supporting characters in the creator-owned Chris Claremont comic book, Sovereign Seven, in which seven extradimensionally-stranded superheroes end up at a mysterious coffeehouse, and meet two equally mysterious women, who may or may not be all they seem to be. That Chris Claremont has long been a fan of the Flash Girls, and before them, Cats Laughing (Emma Bull’s previous band), often sneaking them into his comics, is either a coincidence, or a cunning plan.

So then. Emma Bull and the Fabulous Lorraine either are, or are not, trying to recreate the musical accomplishments of a pair of musicians who may, or may not have actually existed. -Someone-, however, has released three albums (besides this, they’ve done Maurice and I and Play Each Morning Wild Queen). What’s truth, and what’s fiction?

Might as well ask “What’s signal and what’s noise?” It’s much more appropriate, given the circumstances.

I’ve said that the Flash Girls have a unique sound. Well, yes. Many things have a unique sound. Three monkeys gargling while banging their heads on steel drums has a unique sound. But trust me, the Flash Girls are far, far better. For one thing, Neil Gaiman writes some of their songs. Perhaps that’s how they ended up with the quirky Goth-romance “Postmortem On Our Love”, which will forever change the way you look at a relationship…. (with lyrics like “I’ve been dissecting all the letters that you sent me/ Slicing through them looking for the real you/Cutting through the fat and gristle of each torturous epistle/Trying to work out what to do”).

Besides that song, Gaiman is also credited or co-credited on “Riding the Flame/Little Beggarman”, “Tea and Corpses”, “Sonnet in the Dark” and “The Herring Song”. With topics ranging from comically poisoned tea, to a woman’s lifelong enjoyment of herrings, mixing dark imagery and an even darker absurdity, he brings a certain bizarre genius to the lyrics, that’s matched in kind by Lorraine’s own talents, and the stylings of Emma Bull (“Signal To Noise”, etc).

But those are just the lyrics. How about the music? Well, it’s fluid, flexible, adaptable, chimerical. It changes from song to song, taking up a haunting Celtic air, then dropping into a wry humor, sidestepping over into a cappella whimsy, bowing out for a song to give way to a wicked streak. No two songs are the same, incorporating traditional such as “Knickerbocker Lane/Drowsy Maggie” and “Norwegian Dance From Hungary #1″ and all-new creations such as those already mentioned.

I -told- you it was hard to describe the essence of the Flash Girls. They’re like images in smoke: as soon as you think you’ve seen something, it’s gone. You can’t describe it to anyone else, and you certainly can’t capture it for study. It’s fleeting and ephemeral, and repeated listenings bring out something new every time. This is definitely something worth checking out.

Tags: Green Man Review

Once upon a time, there was a band called Rook, and they put out exactly one brilliantly enjoyable album before doing what so many bands do, splitting up and vanishing back into the ether. Little did we imagine that they weren’t dead yet, they were just taking a wee break to reinvent themselves, and come back stronger than before. Thus was born Clatterbone. The only holdovers from the Rook era are Shane Scot (guitars, banjo and vocals) and Tim McCarthy (bagpipes and whistles), who were also the original cofounders for Rook. Newcomers include Tara Hovel (bass and vocals) and Mark D. West (percussion and vocals). (As a note, while Shane, Scot and Tara are listed on the band’s Web site, Mark isn’t, which means he may have gone his own way after this album).

Ambitious and multi-talented? Yes. Their Web site claims they mix Celtic, rock, Gypsy, folk, metal, ska and swing. Shane Scot is also part of a “heavy world rock” group called Delirium Fix, a psycho-billy surf-Ska group named The Diablotones, and Trigger Happy Campers, which fuses rock and soul. Tara comes to the group from Texas by way of New Zealand, and is also a member of the Trigger Happy Campers. Tim is also a part of Delirium Fix. Between the three, they seem capable of playing any instrument necessary, and contributing any style desired. I have to admit, I was of mixed feelings regarding Clatterbone and their debut album, With A Twisted Grin. After all, I really loved Rook’s C’mon and if something ain’t broke, why mess with it, right? How could they improve upon their current state of ass kicking Celtic music? I’m pleased to say that Clatterbone has nothing to worry about. They still kick ass from all directions. The drums are loud, the bagpipes strong, and the vocals rip through the room like a buzz saw. The songs are a mixture of traditional and original, with the majority of the original compositions coming from Scot, and another from McCarthy, starting with a Celtic influence and taking a sharp right turn into Clatterboneland, a place where electric guitar tears down the walls alongside bagpipes, and the cries of cats echo in the background of another song. It’s a place where vocals come through saucy and arrogant, drunken, defiant, angelic, demonic, whimsical, and always having as much fun as possible.

For With A Twisted Grin, Clatterbone brought a few friends in, such as Suzanne Wolf (bagpipes and whistles), “Harmonica “Bob Miner (harmonica, of course), and the BBQ Choir (general merriment). Would that we all had such good friends. Clatterbone manages to dance its way along the spectrum of songs. There’s the fabulously traditional “Wild Rover,” the entirely rambunctious drinking song, “Whiskey Watered Down,” the sweeping and powerful ballad of “The Dreadnaught,” the rollicking and enjoyable “Gypsy Set,” and the entirely original “The Train.” Their songs embrace the unholy caterwauling of the bagpipes and turn them into welcome parts of a grander melody, making them about as cool as bagpipes ever are. (I admit that under normal circumstances, I find the only difference between bagpipes and fighting cats being bagpipes don’t need their litter box changed…)

How can I put this? I burned out on Celtic a long time ago. If you want me to like Celtic, you’d better doctor it to make it palatable. Like putting whiskey in medicine. Going by that theory, Clatterbone makes Celtic into a steak dinner. They’re Faster, Harder, Louder, Stronger. Utterly shameless, completely unrepentant, and stand back while they cut loose. For every mellow song like “Chubby’s Troubles,” there’s something like “The MacGregors” to bring the energy levels back up, or “Follow Me Up To Carlow” to rattle the walls with its strength. The only reason I can’t describe the songs in more detail is because sometimes, music just needs to be listened to. Clatterbone is Celtic on the edge, mixing rock and traditional in a wild, boisterous manner. They take the old, and give it a new spin, resulting in an album that I’m pleased to recommend. Check out With A Twisted Grin if you like whiskey in your coffee, or electric guitar with your bagpipes.

Tags: Green Man Review

Following her initial smash debut, Too Close To The Sun, New York based musician Sylvia Tosun returns with a truly exceptional album. Entitled Anthem: National Anthems of Our World, Volume 1, it’s a very simple concept. Take the national anthems of ten different countries, and remix them in her own unique style.

How better to spotlight someone whose true talent lies in her vocal range and the power of her singing, then to perform national anthems, songs meant to be sung and heard? As the liners notes say, “Anthem: A song or hymn of praise, devotion to a cause, a sacred vocal composition with words usually from the scriptures. A song of celebration.” Add to that, songs of defiance, pride, strength, national determination, and energy. National anthems are part of the very spirit and definition of a country, and in this collection, Tosun shows us exactly what sort of power they can hold.

I was floored by the very first song. Tosun’s rendition of the Star-Spangled Banner is haunting, as she casts her voice to the wind and gives us the sort of passionate energy that the song deserves. Backed by Allison Cornell (violin), Robin Macantangay (electric guitar) and Julie Flanders (who provides a ghostly spoken word accompaniment in the background), Tosun captures the spirit of the song.

Each of the other anthems is performed in their native language, and I’m not the polyglot I wish I was, but Tosun pulls it off like a native for each other country. In succession, she performs the anthems of Israel, Great Britain (with a God Save The Queen/ My Country Tis’ of Thee medley), France, Russia, Canada, Germany, Italy, Australia, and Japan. Also, she throws in a hypnotically compelling trance remix of the Israel anthem, and an electronica remix of the Great Britain medley.

Tosun’s voice soars and dives like an elegant bird, capturing every note with beauty and precision. I’ve never heard some of the songs collected here, or if I had, I’ve certainly never heard them performed like this. While her voice is the true power and guiding force behind each song, she has an extremely capable group backing her up, adding in everything from piano and clarinet to percussion and electric guitar. As well, she moves the songs into the 21st Century with her trance and electronica remixes, which dizzy the senses and breathe new life into old songs.

I’m sorry that lyrics weren’t included in the liner notes, for it would be interesting to see how the songs compare to the source material. But that’s a minor quibble compared to such an impressive album. I wasn’t dissatisfied with a single song; in fact, I’ve had it on constant replay for some days now as good background writing music. I didn’t think it would be easy to top her first album, and I’m pleased to say that she didn’t even try to improve on it. She did something so completely different and audacious that it’ll stand on its own no matter what. She’s taken her music to a whole new level, and us with it. I highly recommend this album, and I’m really hoping that the “Volume 1″ in the title means we’ll be seeing follow-up projects in the same manner.

Her official bio states that she learned these various anthems while serving an unprecedented two year term as “Miss USO in her teens, prior to a scholarship at Juilliard.” She has also performed with the popular operatic rock group, Trans-Siberian Orchestra, and collaborated with Julie Flanders and Emil Adler of the October Project.

Tags: Green Man Review

Forgive me, for I have sinned. Like Smaug in The Hobbit, I am guilty of sitting upon a true treasure, neglecting to share it with anyone else. However, I intend to rectify that, by sharing with you the debut solo album by acclaimed New York vocalist, Sylvia Tosun, Too Close To The Sun.

Sylvia Tosun first came to my attention for her role as Fate in the most recent release by the Trans-Siberian Orchestra, the rock/classical opera, Beethoven’s Last Night. I gave high marks to this album, with a special mention of Tosun’s role, which had caught my attention. Thus, when I was contacted and asked if I’d like to review her debut solo album, I leapt at the chance.

And now, much belatedly, here we are.

Hypnotic, dazzling, and compelling, the only flaw of this album is that it has set a standard by which Sylvia Tosun will be judged on her future releases, and it’s a very high standard indeed. It serves to show that she must have been holding back with the Trans-Siberian Orchestra, for given the chance to take the lead, she not only takes it, she blasts off into orbit. With a voice like a sultry angel, smoky and enchanting, Tosun comes off as too earthy for Heaven and too airy for the mundane world. She manages to exhibit a range and scope I’ve rarely encountered in other works, and after several dozen listenings, I still haven’t gotten tired of this album.

However, believe it or not, Sylvia Tosun is not the only thing that makes this a worthwhile listening experience, although this is most definitely her work. She’s backed by a truly exceptional group of musicians, whose collective efforts turn a lovely solo attempt into a rich and vibrant musical tapestry. Kudos then must go out to her musical cohorts, consisting of Julie Flanders (spoken word), Alison Cornell (violin, viola, keyboards, backing vocals), Harold Stephan (keyboard and drum programming), Ben Butler(electric and acoustic guitars), Doug Yowell (drums and percussion), and Michael Visceglia (bass). Any one of them would be noteworthy on their own. Collectively, they work wonders.

Julie Flanders, in addition to providing the spoken word vocals, is also Tosun’s cowriter, and wrote most of the lyrics for Too Close To The Sun.

While it seems like folly to pick a personal favorite from the songs available, I had to go with the first song on the album, “Runaway.” It manages to show off the ranges of Tosun’s smoky voice, ranging from sorrowful low notes to hopeful high notes, and all the shades in between. Backed by her talented companions, with a special note going to Alison Cornell’s mastery of the violin, Tosun sets the pace for the rest of Too Close To The Sun.

“Blue Sky” is something of a change of pace: quieter, slower, more of a ballad, giving more focus to the vocals, with only a subtle musical accompaniment, it further explores themes of hope, and belief, and self-worth, and love.

The title track, “Too Close To The Sun,” is different from the first two. Breathy and slow at first, it soon grows into a profound ballad, evoking a sense of love and loss, and conjuring images of Icarus, flying too close to the sun and ultimately falling from grace into the sea. It’s a worthy anthem to relationships, the risks we all take, and the pain we feel when they don’t work out.

“All This Time” takes a different approach (for a fourth time on the same CD), with a musical introduction that’s nothing short of magical and enigmatic, and Tosun’s throaty lounge-singer voice to conjure forth more images that resist mundane description.

Next up is “Just Six Numbers,” a mysterious and compelling tune that mixes barely-breathed spoken word, a Middle-Eastern musical sound, and Tosun’s ever-changing, ever-adaptable voice, which blends in with “Sleepless Dark Water,” a beautiful, if haunting, song that defies casual definition. Finally, there’s “Nothing More Than This,” which is another one of those evocative, emotional ballads, the perfect way to end the album.

Lest you think I’m heaping unearned praise upon Too Close To The Sun, I invite you to listen for yourself. Sylvia Tosun’s official Web site provides MP3 versions of all six songs, along with the lyrics, and even some Quicktime movies to accompany several of the songs. It’s also got commentary and quotes, a regularly updated schedule of where to see her live, and a photo gallery featuring photos of Tosun, taken by photographer/journalist Frederic Lagrange, and originally displayed in a Soho art exhibit by Japanese painter Kana Otofuji. As official Web sites go, it’s certainly worth checking out.

As for Too Close To The Sun itself, I can’t recommend it highly enough. It’s one of those rare albums whose only flaw is that there just isn’t ?enough-. Six songs is like a steak without the baked potato… delicious and enjoyable, but leaving one hungry for more. Without a doubt, if I’m ever in a position to catch Sylvia Tosun live, I won’t even hesitate to take advantage of the opportunity. This is not an album to be missed. You can buy the CD directly through the Web site, if the previews available online appeal to you. As for myself, I will eagerly be awaiting Sylvia Tosun’s next release.

Tags: Green Man Review

Some months back, I raved about Seven Nations’ 1999 release, The Factory. Now I’m back with a pair of releases from one of the best Celtic rock bands out there. The Pictou Sessions, released in 2000 on their own label, is what happens when a talented group of musicians travels to the town of Pictou, Nova Scotia, Canada, to endure a hectic five-day period, producing an acoustic album, “aided and abetted by several of their friends, who also happen to be some of the finest pickers and players from the region.” The second album, simply called Seven Nations, contains many of the same songs as The Pictou Sessions, a compilation of most of their crowd-pleasing hits, and was released in October, 2000, by Q Records in association with Atlantic Records. And although the two have almost the same cover, it’s important not to confuse them.

As before, Seven Nations consists of Kirk LcLeod (vocals, twelve-string acoustic guitar, piano), Struby (fretless bass, vocals), Ashton Geoghagan (drums, vocals), Scott Long (highland bagpipes, electric bagpipes, vocals), and Dan Stacey (fiddle, vocals). For The Pictou Sessions, they were joined by guest musicians Dave MacIsaac (acoustic guitar, mandolin), Dave Gunning (guitar, background vocals), Randy MacDonald (bodhran, jembe, tambourine, shakers, vocals), and Nigel Poirier (piano, vocals).

There’s a reason that Seven Nations has fast become so popular, with seven independent albums under their belt and a nation wide fan following. It’s not just the fact that they spend over 2/3rds of the year touring and playing. It’s because they’ve thrown rock, pop, traditional Celtic and more into a blender and hit “puree” to create something wholly unique. I cheered them for their FHL (Faster, Harder, Louder) factor last time, and they haven’t let down one bit since. Their lyrics are powerful, the vocals strong, the instruments energetic. They’re the musical equivalent of a force of nature, slamming into a song with all guns blazing, and leaving the listener reeling as quickly as they came. But then they’ll switch tactics from toe-tapping fiddling (such as “The Surprise Ceilidh Band Set”, as strong a tune as any I’ve heard) to the sombre and reflective (such as “God”, which is deceptively quiet, lulling one almost into a state of melancholy.)

Vocal, versatile, and unpredictable, Seven Nations is a hard act to match. They’re even harder to describe, being as multifaceted as they are talented. I’ve mentioned how they can switch styles like some people change clothes. Well, it’s true. From celebratory to inflammatory to melancholy to pure piano (of note, “Skyezinha/The Egret” on The Pictou Sessions), they’ve got something for every listener and every season. They can make bagpipes do things I swear bagpipes weren’t meant to do (the true purpose of the bagpipes being to shatter the moral of the listener, I’m told…). They’ve got good old drinking songs, like “A Rare Auld Time,” and pipe songs (“Pipe Set”), and songs that defy definition.

So, what am I saying? I’m saying that Seven Nations is as good as ever, if not better, and if you like Celtic of any sort, you owe it to yourself to pick up The Pictou Sessions and/or Seven Nations.

They have a Web site that contains all the 7N information you could ever want. From a band history and timeline to a discography, from news articles and releases to photos, sound clips, tour dates and a chat forum, there’s even online ordering for Seven Nations music, hats, artwork and other merchandise. So, become a citizen of the Seven Nations today.

Tags: Green Man Review

“They talk about the Islands and they have been called Wild Queens. I wonder if they were not really Anne Bonney and Mary Read, those piratical dames, those buccaneer broads, those sword-and-knife wielding beauties of the Bounding Main. After all, did anyone actually see Pansy and Violet in the same room with Anne and Mary? I think not. I remain among their greatest fans, especially now that I know their secret.” – Jane Yolen, on the back page of the liner notes for Play Each Morning Wild Queen

The Flash Girls were the musical equivalent of Thelma and Louise, a pair of wild women musicians who’d taken their songs on the road, spreading chaos behind them merrily. They’re what happens when you throw in the Celtic rock talent of Cats Laughing or Boiled in Lead, the peculiar English sentiments of Neil Gaiman, the urban phantasms of one “Colonel” Emma Bull, and the genius of “The Fabulous” Lorraine Garland, self-styled Duchess of Hazard, into a blender and serve chilled with a twist of lime. Or, to put it another way, it’s what happens when some really creative, talented people got together and decided to have some serious fun.

Play Each Morning Wild Queen marked the third adventure of Emma Bull and Lorraine Garland in their alter(ed) egos of Pansy Smith and Violet Jones, aka The Flash Girls. In her previous tenure with a musical group, the much-renowned Cats Laughing, Emma Bull demonstrated that her talents were as much instrumental and vocal as they were literary, leaping from the Fae-haunted streets of Minneapolis to the stage, as though invoking one of her own characters. And while like the Flash Girls, Cats Laughingis no more, its legacy also lives on.

In The Return of Pansy Smith and Violet Jones, they introduced us to characters so real that they ultimately took on a life of their own in Chris Claremont’s short-lived comic book, Sovereign Seven. In Maurice and I, they continued to expand their horizons, mixing traditional songs with ones penned by Neil Gaiman and Jane Yolen, among others. And now they were back again for their final CD.

Play Each Morning Wild Queen was as different from its predecessors as they were from Cats Laughing. With Emma on vocals, guitar, washboard and spoons, and Lorraine on vocals and violin, they demonstrated the full range of their abilities, while assuring us that, yes, they were having fun.

And they had brought friends: Robin Anders joins in on the drums, and another Boiled in Lead colleague, Adam Stemple, helped out on bass and keyboards. Lojo Russo, formerly of Cats Laughing, brought her bass into the mix, and Steven Brust contributed dumbek as well as lyrical assistance.

The traditional songs of the mix (“Nottingham Ale”, “Lily of the West”) were joined by songs written by Neil Gaiman, Steven Brust, Dorothy Parker, A.A. Milne, Todd Menton, Jimmy McCarthy, and of course, Emma and Lorraine.

Looking at the above list, it’s no wonder that the offerings that were put forth in this album ranged from the unusual to the unexpected.

So, were they any good? You bet. I’ll admit up front, their style wasn’t for everyone. The Flash Girls seemed to occupy a certain, oft-unused portion of the consciousness, taking up residence when you were not looking and refusing to pay rent on time, if at all. They started out with a nice, almost subtle instrumental, the darkly atmospheric “Driving With Noel,” a heavily bass-accented tune that had my walls shivering and my cats eying me suspiciously. It’s immediately my favorite song of the batch, without having heard the others, the sort of song that should be turned up louder, if only I wasn’t afraid of causing an earthquake in Virginia. It’s vaguely Celtic, vaguely folk, with a healthy dose of violin and drums, the afore-mentioned bass, and an erupting volcano for good measure.

It’s almost a relief to go from the moody dark autumn night of “Driving” to the Dorothy Parker inspired “Threnody,” which presents us Our Heroines on vocals, the usual suspects on backup instruments, and one of Parker’s own poems as the basis for the lyrics. What can I say, except that Mrs. Parker would undoubtedly be pleased with the treatment of her work.

“Lily of the West” proves that the Girls could handle traditional as well as they did other sources, throwing us into the story of the man who met, loved, was betrayed by, and lost, Flory, Lily of the West. Cheerful? Only if you like the sort of love that can survive betrayal and death, to the very end. I hear some people were big into that intensity of faithfulness.

Then it’s to A.A. Milne, whose words, taken from When We Were Very Young give us the core of “Buckingham Palace/Dunford’s Fancy.” After the previous song, it’s a very welcome change of pace and atmosphere. Fast-paced, witty, light-hearted in tone, catchy, it’s Christopher Robin and Alice going down to the Buckingham Palace, and it doesn’t let up in its energy levels until the end.

“A Meaningful Dialogue” starts off with a sort of ’50s girl group vocalization but rapidly degenerates into the aftermath of a bad relationship: “I’ve got my fingers in my ears I’m going lalalalalalalalala/I can’t hear you/I’ve got my fingers in my ears I’m going lalalalalalalala/Going la la la”. Admit it. Haven’t you ever wanted to do that? It works when the boss gets mad, it’s the solution to the worst day you’ve ever had, and sometimes it’s the best response available. Childish, yet meaningful, and all too entertaining on some levels.

“Race to the Moon” was the result of a collaboration between Emma, Lorraine, Steven Brust and Adam Stemple, blending nursery rhymes like “Little Bo Peep” and “Ring around the Rosy” to create a whole new way of looking at things. Then it’s time for another instrumental, “The Wine With The Stars In It/Mr. and Mrs. O’Mara,” a fine traditional tune written by Lorraine, backed up by Adam Stemple and Steven Brust.

“All Purpose Folk Song (Child Ballad #1)” was another one of those songs that had to be heard to be believed. Words by Neil Gaiman, inspiration by all those Child Ballads that were the meat and potatoes of any folklorist or folk musician. This one’s an a capella tune, but you’ll hardly miss the music. “Sure of Me” speaks to all those doubts a lover has ever had to assuage in his or her partner, with just the slightest hint of wryness.

As the song says, “Even with an explanation/How will you be sure of me?”

Back to the traditionals for “Ride On/Reverend Guiness” for another haunting tale that might or might not have once been called “The Right Reverend Guilderness’ Jig,” and then it’s next door for a Neil Gaiman creation, “Personal Thing,” which is as much of a love song as we may ever expect to get from the man most famous for Sandman and American Gods, that is to say, it’s full of gorgeous imagery and magical suggestion.

Finally, we wind up our tour of that ill-used part of your consciousness with “Nottingham Ale,” a traditional song about drinking, without which no proper folk(ish)album would be complete. Drink up your Nottingham Ale, boys! (And I won’t mention the ‘bonus track’ that you’ll get if you let the CD play on past the last track. Let’s just say it’s… interesting.)

So yes. Play Each Morning Wild Queen was good. It’s unique, fascinating, esoteric, and just plain fun. I haven’t decided if I like it more than the other Flash Girls offerings, but then again, does that matter? Take this one on its own, or with the others, or on faith, and enjoy it fully.

Tags: Green Man Review

It’s almost inexcusable that I could have had this particular gem in my collection for so long and not written a review of it. I confess, then, that I was saving it for a rainy day, and as I fear I may have to start building an ark later tonight, I might as well share my opinions on this lovely piece of “thrash Celtic.”

Despite an overabundance of Celtic blood in my veins, passed on by the typical melting pot of English/Scots/Irish, I have no overwhelming love for the music. I like it, all right, but overdose easily. There’s that, and my self-professed love for the FHL theory. (Faster, Harder, Louder.) Luckily, The Factory succeeds on all of those levels, coming across as an energetic blend of Celtic, rock, and a few esoteric genres which I’ll describe later on in the review.

Seven Nations themselves consists of Kirk McLeod (vocals, guitars, piano and highland bagpipes), Strudy (bass guitars), Ashton Geoghagan (drums), Scott Long (highland bagpipes, shuttle pipes) and Dan Stacey (fiddle, violin, and feet(!)). As well, they’re joined by guest musicians Steve Holley, Richard Fordus, Stuart Cameron, and the Amazing Grace Choir, who add a variety of instruments and vocals to assorted tracks.

I’ll say it up front: The Factory has bagpipes. Lots of them. In fact, it pretty much starts off with an amazing bagpipe instrumental that soon launches into “The Factory Song,” a curious ballad based upon a handcar/traditional song and modified by Kirk McLeod for this album. It’s an energetic song with a trace of melancholy and regret, a tale of the men working day and night in a factory, the sort of song they might have sung to keep up their pace and rhythm while working. With lyrics like “I share this cellar with five of my friends / when the big bell rungs our day’s at an end / We clear our throats from the dusty air / the machinery’s din we always hear,” you get a good feeling for the conditions they have to deal with. Other lyrics pray that “If we should die before I make it back home / please carry me home” and “Even when we sleep do we fall from grace?” All in all, it’s a powerful song, and the perfect introduction to the album.

The next track, “This Season” takes on a somber feel, telling a tale of sadness, anger, love and memory. The lyrics are poignant and evocative, with “I will remember you this way / as sure as the night divides the day / as sure as the sun goes down” to speak strongly of the power of remembrance. Bagpipes, drums, fiddles, vocals and even electric guitars weave together to generate a dark and touching song.

“Soft Gator Girl” eschews vocals for a purely instrumental medley based on the traditional “The Fox Hunters/ Donald Willie and His Dog,” which gives the band a chance to shine forth with fiddle, percussion and shuttle pipes. Another powerful effort, which sets the feet to moving in a good Highland-style dance. It’s the very sort of song the Fae might play to encourage their mortal guests to join in on a clear Midsummer night.

The vocals return, just in time for “The Ballad of Calvin Crozier,” and they’re quite welcome in this tragic song of a man who “returned and gave his life for another man” after the end of the Civil War. (I assume it’s the Civil War, based on the mention of Union soldiers, and the mention that it was “four long years.” I could be wrong.) It urges the “good people of this town” to listen, and know the name of Calvin Crozier, who fought and has seen blood and tears, and returned home, only to end up digging his own grave and die while Union soldiers danced on his grave all night long.” Okay, not very cheerful, but it’s a very powerful song nonetheless, mixing bagpipes and electric guitar to blend the old and the new.

“Twelve” slows things down for another song of love and loss and desire and blame. Slow and patient, it builds gradually into something of a ballad, offering up lyrics like “Out from the ashes of gray desire / Out from the dreams and into the fire / I said a lot, it won’t mean a thing / after she’s gone these words will sing.”

Then we move on to “The Paddy Set,” another traditional-based song with an interesting military feel to it, starting as it does with bagpipes and drums and the background noise of a commander putting his troops through their paces. It segues nicely into a strong, strident drums and percussion beat, highly evocative of action and chaos. Electric guitars launch in as well, setting a rough and rapid pace that ends very abruptly.

“N.O.T. (I Want My People Back)” carries the refrain of “I want my people back / I want them here with me / I want my people back here with me” in between tales of men going to war against the Czar in Russia. As the song says, “Six young men from the 93rd / At Balaclava bravely heard / Colin Campbell’s plea to stand their ground / They made their way back home again / Far away from the battle din / To find their families weren’t around / A tartan shroud was all that remained / Across their ruined houses lay / And as they came on back down from the hills / The wind behind them wailed away…”. It’s another strong effort on an album full of them.

“Heroes in Tennis Shoes” has a different feel, but one hard to properly identify. It’s got almost a pop tone to it, without actually crossing the barrier.

Then we have “Sweet Orphan,” which brings in the piano for a Billy Joel-like song with a wistful air about February. One of the best parts has to be, “And the rain, it whistles lonely on this pond / and I think it’s sad you’ve never learned to swim / now they’ve torn the old mill down / and your dress blues are on the ground / now there’s nothing left, just moss and tired trees.”

The picture it paints is suitably touching and nostalgic.

“Mother Mary” is another rock-and-roll bagpipe-and-guitar special, with the band quite cheerfully throwing themselves into something of a love song.

My favorite song, and certainly the most unusual of the album has to be the bizarre rendition of “Amazing Grace,” which is here titled “Daze of Grace.” A dozen listenings, and only then was I able to find words to describe the haunting, mysterious manner in which they take and transform the traditional melody into a storm cloud anthem. It starts off with a lone woman’s voice, backed by wind and thunder, as though she’s singing to the storm, and as the wind increases, so does the odd sound of record scratchiness. Bring in a solemn drumbeat and the bagpipes everyone expects with “Amazing Grace,” and fade out the voice for an instrumental. Now it has something of a tribal beat, the hurricane still in the background. An electric fiddle and a male voice chanting, along with the regular drumbeats, and it takes on an unearthly, alien aspect. Then it all comes together for a truly unique effect. The background chant of “Daze of Grace” whispers its way into the listener’s consciousness. It’s easy to become lost as the full choir fades in with the familiar lyrics of Amazing Grace. As I’ve said, this is my favorite song, and the one that makes Seven Nations truly stand out from every other Celtic-style band I’ve ever heard. Oddest of all, though, has to be the scratchiness in the very background of the song, as though it was recorded from an old record, or from a tape with plenty of hiss. Rather than detracting, it adds to the overall effect.

Finally, the album closes with “This Season Reprise,” which is sedate compared to some of the other offerings on this album.

I recommend The Factory with enthusiasm and confidence. It won me over with its consistent quality, divergence from the same old same old I so often find in Celtic music, and the talented promise of Seven Nations. This is a group to watch for in the future.

Tags: Green Man Review