Eigg, 13-15 June 2008

John Somerville

IN AMONGST the 300-400 celebrants who annually descend on Eigg for the anniversary of its 1997 community buyout, there’s always a bemused sprinkling of bird-watchers and day-trippers, wondering what on earth happened to their promised haven of Hebridean tranquility. Anyone seeking to escape the madding crowd on Eigg that weekend will only find a madder one there. But if it’s cask-strength island craic you’re after, rarely does it flow more freely.

There’s a considerable amount of collective logistical effort involved in mustering this particular party, both on the part of Eigg’s 85-odd inhabitants – who have to host and cater for a three-day invasion of up to four times their number, besides staging the actual Saturday night concert – and of those who travel to be there.

A sizeable posse nowadays undertake the long, winding drive up from the Central Belt, many a well-stuffed carload setting off at dawn to catch a morning boat from Arisaig or Mallaig, and with the scheduled ferries frequently at capacity, numerous smaller craft are pressed into local service from Knoydart to Glenuig.

Once you’ve finally arrived, though, and found your bed or pitched your tent, all stresses and strains start magically ebbing away. To extend the analogy coined by a recent headliner at the Orkney Folk Festival, who affectionately likened the late-night club there to “a youth club for grown-ups”, Eigg at anniversary time resembles a corresponding youth-club camp – an anarchist youth club, perhaps, in the purest sense of the term.

For as well as the customary sense of psychic liberation that comes from putting a good stretch of sea between you and the rest of the world, and the well-being instilled by outstandingly beautiful surroundings, a visit to this particular island offers inspiration from a further source, that of its community having made such a success of their pioneering shared ownership.

Almost every year, it seems, there’s another landmark achievement to be toasted: the new café and shop, the refurbished school and hall, the new pier, and as of a few months back, Eigg’s very own renewable electricity grid, a unique mix of wind, hydro and solar generation that has freed residents from reliance on costly diesel generators.

All this from a scattering of some 40 households, with no governmental or statutory structure in any familiar form; no police, no overruling quango, no church, no enforcement agency whatsoever. Not for nothing is the anniversary ceilidh informally known as “independence day”.

That 85-ish population figure, meanwhile, represents an increase of nearly a third since the buyout, including a good few young children. In addition to the various businesses subsidiary to the Isle of Eigg Community Trust – the splendidly-named Eigg Electric Ltd among them – livelihoods derive from a vibrant patchwork of tourism, crofting, crafts, complementary therapies and traditional culture.

There’s a new restaurant on the island, complete with magnificent views of mountainous Rum, and some enterprising soul making wild garlic pesto from the bounteous local supply (whose last star-like flowers were still in bloom), of which the shop sold out in double-quick time. And that’s yet another great thing about partying in Eigg: you’re not merely indulging in the café’s delicious food or quaffing its fine selection of drinks – you’re making an important contribution to the local economy.

That’s a lot of context, granted, for what’s meant to be a music review, but if ever an event was made by a place, it’s the Eigg anniversary ceilidh. It’s not every gig with a maximum official capacity of maybe 400, after all, that would have the 12 members of the Treacherous Orchestra – pooled from past or current ranks of the Peatbog Faeries, Croft No. Five, Salsa Celtica, Box Club and the like – jumping at the chance to go on at 2am, for what can hardly be a massive fee.

Similarly, while most Scottish DJs’ preferred tendency might be southwards, towards the brighter lights and bigger crowds, Edinburgh’s Dolphin Boy feels honoured to man the decks for what’s become almost an annual residency. Taking over after the headline band finally finish their always-epic set, he continues the bird-watchers’ nightmare by keeping the beats bangin’ out across the island until well past the time decent folk are having their breakfast.

Not that local talent was under-represented on the bill. The Eigg Ceilidh Band played a lively opening set, after which the JaMaTha Ceilidh Band kept the dance-floor busy, featuring veteran Irish percussionist – and adoptive Eigg resident – Eddie “Spoons” Scott, alongside other Highland stalwarts like pianist Andy Thorburn.

Next up was local mandolin and banjo picker Damien Helliwell “and Friends”, the latter comprising Dàimh bandmates Gabe McVarish (fiddle) and Ross Martin (guitar), percussionist Donald Hay (Mystery Juice, Unusual Suspects) and accordionist John Somerville (Croft No. Five, Box Club).

Clearly not the faint-hearted type, Helliwell had also written an entire new set of material with which to unveil the band, who’d been rehearsing with admirable diligence since they arrived the day before, even amidst the prevailing revelry. The hard work paid off abundantly in a succession of richly layered tunes, deftly highlighting and cross-matching the range of instrumental textures at Helliwell’s disposal, propelled by potently insistent grooves.

The Treacherous Orchestra was spawned a few years back as the suitably mighty scratch band who played out the final night of the Celtic Connections Festival Club. That’s now evolved into an annual fixture, while other intermittent gatherings – like this one – have also ensued, as and when a dozen in-demand diaries allow. This many instruments – including pipes, fiddles, accordion, banjo, whistles, guitars, bass and percussion – in the hands of such talents as Ross Ainslie, Innes Watson, Eamonn Coyne, Paul Jennings and Duncan Lyall, are pretty much bound to make a terrific noise, but there’s also no shortage of creative ambition in the mix.

Hell-for-leather the sound might be, fusing exultant dance melodies with cutting-edge rhythmic attack, but it’s tempered by impressive ensemble discipline, and thus as musical as it’s exciting. And as an extra treat here, guest vocalist Hannah Read sang a few adroitly chosen covers; none better chosen than Bill Withers’s ‘Lovely Day’, which – as one such gave way to another – had everyone singing along at the top of their lungs.

With the sun mostly smiling on proceedings – and a fresh breeze keeping the midges at bay – the rest of the weekend chiefly divided between sitting around a campfire and sitting outside at the café, enjoying its view of Ardnamurchan while tunes were played and songs were sung.

Come Sunday afternoon, there was further entertainment to be had from spotting the people who hadn’t yet made it to bed from the night before: those who’d been to the post-gig beach party, soldiered straight on through the breakfast Bloody Marys at the campsite, and were now reaching a state of extreme – though extremely happy – befuddlement. After all, to render oneself miraculous – in the old Scots sense of the word – is entirely in keeping with the spirit of this particular occasion.

© Sue Wilson, 2008

Links

• Isle of Eigg