Subtitled 22 Compositions from 1995 – 2024, that, inescapably, is exactly what Little Bird is. And if you are still unaware of who Tim Edey is, well, clearly you having been paying insufficient attention, he becoming quite the fixture at festival across these islands over past year or so, often in the company of other similar souls, other musicians equally at the peak of their prowess. Regular and recent sidekicks include Michael McGoldrick, Clive Carroll and Ross Ainslie, and, whether solo or in cahoots, there is always the sense he can just turn up and play, such is the breadth of his repertoire and grasp of his instruments. Instruments? Totally unfairly, he is adept on the guitar as he is button accordion, dropping jaws with his mastery of each. He is also celebrated, if less so, for having one of the gurniest stage presences on the circuit, something that can be both entertaining and/or alarming, dependent upon sensitivities.
The album is a neat little package, a gatefold CD, with extensive liner notes around each selection chosen, and why. For instance, the opener, and title track, is both inspired by, and is a birthday present he wrote for, Sharon Shannon, after a spell he spent in her band, he describing also why the recipient of the gift then gave it that title. The tune itself starts with a delicate melody picked out on guitar, taking up near half the track, with some piano sneaking under at that stage. A wistful gambol of a track, piano takes a brief lead, before the guitar reprises the main theme, to finish. If you want a reference, rather than Edey or Shannon, try Knopfler, it being very “Local Hero” in mood.
A little backstory comes with “Broadstairs Jig/Funghi’s Jig”, not least the reveal of from where Edey hails, the tiny Celtic enclave of Broadstairs, Kent. No, I jest, but me too, I had always assumed him of Irish or Scottish stock, from both the company he keeps and the musics played. But he is a Kentish lad. And the first of this pair, from his “Suite For Thanet”, gives ample opportunity for him to strut his fingers on squeeze. He has that lovely bubbly burble about his playing, reminiscent, yes, of Ms. Shannon, the sound then marrying well with piano. Some swift guitar beckons in the second half, a tribute to the Dingle dolphin of that name, a relief being it not being a play on fun guy.
This is much the remit of the album, revisioning and recalibration of tunes from his past, weaved together by his multi-tasking in the studio. I have suggested a distinct Hiberno-Caledonian hue to the music, but occasionally creeps in influences from further afield. For instance, his accordion for “Forever Giving” is positively Gallic, as is the guitar, once attuned to that cross-channel fertilisation. “Celtic Thunder/Kent to Kintail” is a manic Irish stepdance tune that has a whiff of “Music for a Found Harmonium”, if with a nod to Jazz Club, as it becomes the second tune, his piano now the full Brubeck. It’s confusing, but who’s counting?
“Dermot from Burt/Spilt Milk” melds a highland reel, the precision and timing then laxing into a Pugwashy saunter. “Baltic Arrival” is back on frantic, both these two selections showing off his nifty fingers across the buttons. For respite, the guitar instrumental, “Why”, is then a slower and more reflective piece, the instrumental version of a song by Charlie McGettigan, the Irish Eurovision winner having written some lyrics to Edey’s air.
‘The Surrey Nightingale” captures a peculiar sentimentality that is quite infectious, accordion singing over guitar and piano, in a way that would suit any of the Sunday evening heritage drama that the BBC used to be so fond of. So it then quite a switch for the complex near baroque of “Richard’s Minuet”, which shows off another side of Edey. The tranquillity imbued is then perfect for “Tides”, where piano and guitar evoke the Kentish beachside, sea on pebbles at sunset. It is a tune easy to return to.
“Murioch Mornings” has Edey returning to his Irish muse, a memento of four years in Kerry, some of that time at the home of his hero, Seamus Begley. One has to admire the tenacity of this young English lad, obsessed with Irish and Scottish music from an early age, so much so that he was playing alongside his inspirations from his early twenties. Heck, he was playing, aged 19, on board a Scandinavian cruise line for an Irish ballet company, bonkers enough itself, conceptually, which makes him still under 50.
Two further tunes, originally from the “Suite for Thanet”, come with “Reculver Polkas 1 & 2”, each of which would need a fair old bit of stamina on the dance floor, and “Ramsgate Regatta”. Ringing a change, this starts almost ragtime, with guitar, ahead his accordion setting up a questioning, topsy-turvey melody, which is completely beguiling. Now comes one of the most evocative pieces within this set, “Emma’s Tune”, a wrenchingly plangent accordion air, that’d have the hardest boiled cynic weeping into his ale, a highpoint amongst several, and the best tune Phil Cunningham never wrote.
As Little Bird winds down, “Bob’s Birthday Hoedown” celebrates a further fellow voyager along his eventful musical journey. Paired with “Mum’s the Word”, this has Edey plug in his guitar for a spot of Country ‘n’ Irish, an electric hurley that then melts into more bubbly burbly box. The waltz, “Isobel’s”, for his partner, gentles the stage, a pastoral promenade that slow dances into the finale, “Shetland”. From that slow waltz, this allows reflection and reminsiscence, Edey’s near solo piano laying down some thoughtful chords and progressions, an almost perfect nightcap to a project you might look twice at considering. Look that second time and listen.
Seuras Og
Artist’s website: www.timedey.com
‘Little Bird’:
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