THE TANNAHILL WEAVERS – Solstice (Hedera Records HRCD124) 

SolsticeThe Tannahill Weavers occupy an odd place in the Scottish pantheon, almost a bridging post between the woolly jumper cosiness of the Corries and the keen Caledonian asceticism of the Battlefield Band. Indeed, as an ongoing unit, they have been around since 1968, releasing their first record nine years later. And two of that 1976 incarnation remain present within what is currently a quartet, even if an eye-watering 23 past members are listed on Wikipedia, including such notables as Dougie MacLean. Their main calling card is the enduring presence of highland bagpipes in their instrumental roster, early adopters thereof, at least in folk music circles. And, if any doubt around their name, Robert Tannahill was the “weaver poet”, 1774-1810, who, in the wake of the better-known Robert Burns, helped start the Paisley Burns Club, ahead of taking up the pen himself. The Tannahill Weavers play many of his songs.

Mindful of their reputation at the easier listening end of the Scottish scene, my earlier knowledge of them has always demonstrated a dedication and attention to detail, as much for the arrangements as to the outcome. So, whilst the material may be sometimes light, the playing is usually essentially reliable. With fiddles, pipes, whistles, flute, bouzouki, bodhran and banjo at their command, this gave me high hopes for this largely instrumental album. But a warning, lest you be a lover of stripey mint boiled sweets: this is a solstice album in way more than timing. As in the winter, or hibernal solstice, the shortest day of the year, and rather than an array of associated pagan and pre-Christian tunes, this is a fully fledged Christmas album, which is why I have laid off reporting on it for a few weeks, since the October release date.

I’ll be honest, it is a shock as the first tune burst out the traps, sent off the scent by the Gaelic sounding title. But even if translates as “It’s an island set”, make no mistake, it is ‘Hosanna In Excelsis’ that they are playing, the contrast between the tune and the instrumentation quite stark. Of course it is jolly, but unexpected, not least as it breaks then into ‘Tidings Of Comfort And Joy’. Guest singer Annia McGillivray drops some Gaelic mouth music in at this stage, to leaven the surprise. It all needs a moment or two to soak in. I am not sure I have ever heard these tunes performed this way, with fiddles and whistles, buoyed by bodhran and it takes a moment to accommodate.

If that was a shock, ‘Winter Wonderland’ offers an even greater one. Starting with ‘Let It Snow’, it reveals that the melody has a distinctively Hebridean lilt that isn’t obvious in any other version. The fiddle of Malcolm Bushby is paired with Phil Smillie’s whistle. Smillie is one of the 1976 line-up. The actual ‘Winter Wonderland’ I liked less, especially the odd sotto voce vocal. The mix of sacred and secular continues, with ‘Winter Solstice Set’, marrying ‘Good King Wenceslas’ with ‘O, Come All Ye Faithful’, and it all feels a bit safe, however much the latter suits Iain McGillivray’s initially solo bagpipes.

Is the ‘The Nutcracker March’ festive? Regardless, this version is no folk Nutrocker (Nutfolker?) and I am beginning to wonder who this album is aimed at? It’s true, I did enjoy their plaintive take on ‘In The Bleak Midwinter’, up next and the first half of ‘Tranquillity’, which in turn becomes ‘The Holly And The Ivy’ and, finally, ‘Hark The Herald Angels Sing’. The best bit is a short bridge, from Smillie, between the last two. (Is it the ubiquity of the others that palls, or am I just a curmudgeon?)

That thought gains credence for ‘Annia’s Song’, with Annia MacGillivray returning to sing a Gaelic song not knowingly over-besmirched with tinsel. It’s good, as is the medley that follows, ‘Friedemann Stickle’s’, based first on a familiar tune written by the Shetland fiddler of that name. The ensemble play for this is excellent, even as it breaks into ‘Jingle Bells’. ‘The Reflection’ begins by jiggling with the metre of ‘The First Noel’, and not unpleasantly, ahead a further Smillie composition. Oddly, perhaps, through the saturation effect of all these well-worn tunes, I am finding myself slowly thawing to the idea behind this project; were I to find myself in a shop playing this on a December loop, well, it would certainly be preferable to the usual Now That’s What I Call Xmas culprits.

‘New Year’s Waltz’, an original from Session A9 fiddler, Gordon Gunn, carries that pointer of positivity forward, segued with a further melody from Smillie. If you could stick to this, fellas, I’m thinking, but maybe it’s the cornier fare that guarantees more sales, in the shortbread aisle, at least. ‘Celtic Yuletide’ marries ‘Silent Night’, ‘Morning Has Broken’ and the ‘Skye Boat Song’, which, if nothing else, reveals, previously unknown to me, Cat Stevens had used ‘Bunessan’, a traditional air from Mull, as his source for the main melody of his working of the hymn.

Another triptych, collectively ‘Lord Seaforth’, brings together ‘We Three Kings’ with the eponymous strathspey and a lively reel,’ The Angry Inch’, again from Smillie’s hand. It is one of the few in the set where fourth member, Roy Gullane, is audible, he down as only playing tenor banjo. In a similar fashion, ‘Auld Lang Syne,’ which closes the set, matches the tune well known with a lively jig, Smillie again, which ends this curate’s egg of an album on a high note.

Although I don’t really get this album. I see the point and purpose, I guess, and if it attracts interest for the some of the rest of their output, good, and for Scottish traditional music more generally, better still. However, despite all the good bits, and there are a few, I can’t see it appealing to many a hardcore folkie, being destined more for the stocking filler section of Edinburgh Woollen Mill outlets, a chain based, ironically, in Carlisle, England. Still, if you are a fan of the feeding frenzy that Christmas has become, maybe it is something you may consider. It has a splendid gatefold sleeve, and the detailed notes document the background to all these seasonal chestnuts, both informatively and amusingly.

Seuras Og 

Artist’s website: www.tannahillweavers.com

Seuras suggests that this is more typical of the Tannahill style. ‘The Geese in the Bog / The Jig of Slurs’ – live: