Stornoway, Isle of Lewis, 16-19 July 2008

Shooglenifty (photo - Jan Schouten, courtesy www.hebceltfest.com)

ANY ADVANCE superstitious anxieties among the organisers of the 13th Heb Celt festival were comprehensively laid to rest by another mightily successful weekend – even if it was immediately preceded by storm-force gales midweek, resulting in a somewhat frantic scramble to get the big tent up and rigged in time.

Come Thursday evening, however, thanks to the crew’s heroic efforts, up and rigged it duly was, in all its 5500-capacity splendour, a flamboyant blue interloper beneath the stern grey towers of Lews Castle. To complete the spectacular setting, the arena overlooked a harbourful of boats in town for the Sail Hebrides maritime gathering, one of several non-musical events – also including the Lewis Highland Games and a challenge-cup shinty match against Uist – timed to coincide with the festival.

The Heb Celt has always capitalised fruitfully on its location’s cultural as well as physical assets, with Gaelic artists assuming their rightfully prominent place throughout the programme. It was thus entirely fitting for Thursday’s three-band bill to be opened by Gaeldom’s biggest current star, Julie Fowlis, bringing home the songs with which she’s won such far-reaching acclaim.

Appearing with the top-notch Scottish/Irish line-up of her husband Eamonn Doorley (bouzouki), Duncan Chisholm (fiddle), Tony Byrne (guitar), Ewen Vernal (double bass) and Martin O’Neill (bodhrán), the Uist-born singer clearly relished the chance to sing to her ain folk (or whatever the equivalent phrase is in Gaelic), delivering a set that matched unerring technique with characteristic vivacity and polish.

It’s getting on for ten years now since the maverick Irish posse Four Men and a Dog ceased regular touring, but there remain many on the folk scene who cherish memories of their heyday, and keep a keen eye out for their infrequent festival appearances. Not that the band are remotely interested in trading on past glories: basically they get together when offered a gig they all fancy doing, and get stuck in with all their old awesome, incandescent, muck-sweat gusto.

Their two main melody players, fiddler Cathal Hayden and banjo player/fiddler Gerry O’Connor, are both revered icons in their own right, and let rip here with some inspired solo workouts as well as dazzling duels, further enriched by Donal Murphy’s rippling, muscular, sweet-hued accordion.

Indivisibly locked on were the twin rhythmic motors of Kevin Doherty’s guitar and Gino Lupari’s bodhrán, as the tunes careered merrily between Irish trad and Americana twang, interspersed with a variety of country-blues and Tin Pan Alley-style songs, and some consummate comic grandstanding from the inexhaustibly extrovert Lupari.

Closing out the first night were the Red Hot Chilli Pipers, winners of BBC1 talent show When Will I Be Famous (also Best Live Act at last year’s Scots Trad Music Awards), and fronted by former Radio Scotland Young Traditional Musician of the Year, Stuart Cassells. For those who haven’t yet encountered this particular showbiz phenomenon, Cassells is flanked by two other pipers, two pipe drummers, and a battery of electric guitars, bass, keyboards and more percussion.

They made a superb entrance, heralded by a top-volume blast of ‘Jupiter’ from Holst’s The Planets, before launching into a show that ranged from a cover of Coldplay’s ‘Clocks’ to ‘Highland Cathedral’, the latter’s turgid rhythms somewhat enlivened by an unexpected tinge of Ravel’s ‘Bolero’. In between, there were plenty of souped-up jigs and reels, an exhilarating joust between two of the percussionists, and lashings of shamelessly cheesy showmanship.

It was crude, crashy and flagrantly commercial – some might say crass – but also slick, skilful and executed with admirable commitment, not to mention a liberal shot of saving humour.

Alongside the main tented gigs, the festival programme featured daily afternoon and evening concerts at Stornoway’s An Lanntair arts centre. Thursday’s daytime slot was occupied by the excellent Orkney duo Saltfishforty, comprising Brian Cromarty on guitar, mandola and vocals with fiddler Douglas Montgomery – both also members of rambunctious eight-piece outfit The Chair, of whom more later.

As a double-act, they favour an arrestingly raw-boned yet richly accomplished mix of Orkney tunes old and new with gutsy blues and bluegrass accents, propelled by insistent, sharp-edged grooves.

There were plenty of the latter at work, too, during Ross Ainslie and Jarlath Henderson’s An Lanntair show the following night, with Ali Hutton on guitar lending an array of springy cross-rhythms and canny background colours to the Scots/Irish piping pair’s intricately intertwined, brilliantly quicksilver melodies.

As ever, their outstanding individual prowess and their uncanny mutual attunement – plus the evident delight they themselves take in both – were equally a joy to behold, in a well-chosen set that saw both main players alternating bagpipes with low whistle, while tempering pyrotechnic dance medleys with lyrical slower pieces.

Back on the big stage, the eight aforementioned Orcadians comprising The Chair – whose star’s been rapidly on the rise since they won an Open Stage award at last year’s Celtic Connections – achieved a similarly heady, tight-knit synergy, allied to all the heavyweight force generated by a line-up of twin fiddles, accordion, banjo, guitar, bass, drums, percussion and vocals.

The roars of appreciation from the weekend’s biggest crowd were deafening from the very first number, and only grew louder as the band paraded their exuberant, imaginatively arranged mix of Celtic, Balkan, reggae, blues, rockabilly and Scandinavian styles.

Irish small-town heroes The Saw Doctors were a sure-fire choice for Friday night’s main headliner, serendipitously continuing the Chilli Pipers’ theme – albeit with the humour aptly cranked up further – by arriving onstage to the sound of the Star Trek theme, before launching into their original and still best-loved hit, ‘I Useta Love Her’.

Playing this prime slot at this prime festival, to this ultra-primed and up-for-it audience, some bands have attained truly sublime heights of inspiration – which couldn’t quite be said of The Saw Doctors, who seemed essentially to be working the crowd as they would any other.

That said, these virtuosos of the feelgood vibe work a crowd with rare enthusiasm, dedication and effectiveness, here firing out the hooky, heartwarming, singalong anthems for a good two hours, Davy Carton’s soulful, passionate lead vocals soaring forth with the same disarming conviction as ever. They may have done the business rather than risen to the occasion, but you certainly couldn’t fault them for graft.

It’s arguable that buff pin-up stars who excite teenage girls to the point of squealing semi-hysteria can only be a good thing for folk music, given its past prevailing associations with resolutely ungroomed middle-aged men. Judging by his Saturday-night performance in the big tent, it would be about the only good thing Seth Lakeman is doing for folk music just now.

For this listener, his signature sound thus far has been startlingly samey, given the hype he has attracted, superficially catchy though those scissoring fiddle grooves and bright, urgent vocals might be. Suchlike earlier material, however, sounded almost fresh and edgy beside the tracks from his new album Poor Man’s Heaven, which ranged from bland country-folk to downright pop pap, palpably reflecting the Faustian bargain he’s signed with EMI imprint Relentless.

The emphatic Mockney accent didn’t help his credibility – hardly the most natural idiolect for an ex-public schoolboy from Devon – but ultimately it was the cold, autopilot efficiency with which he delivered his goods that left the crowd substantially unmoved.

Praise be that we could depend on Shooglenifty – as the clock ticked towards the Sabbath – to round off proceedings with all the genuine warmth and fire, wit and originality, relish of the moment and spirit of adventure that anyone could wish for.

The final icing on the Heb Celt cake nowadays is the late-night festival club at An Lanntair, which in its third year of operation there seemed very happily settled in, leaving aside a certain rabbit-in-the-headlights tendency among the (initially) fresh-faced bar staff at the insatiable intensity of the onslaught.

As well as providing for a late-night drink and a catch-up with the day’s gossip, the club stages extra slots by most of the billed festival acts, and a few more besides. Four Men and a Dog, The Chair and Shooglenifty all whipped it up all over again in the wee hours following their main-stage shows, while other bonus treats included short but compellingly sweet sets from Saltfishforty, Karine Polwart, Bodega and ex-Astrid singer-songwriter/sequencer Willie Campbell.

Thirteen years in, with a total annual attendance of around 15,000, the Heb Celt has acquired the atmosphere and attitude of a festival justly confident in its standing on the circuit, among both performers and audiences, offering an all-round quality of experience – from customer care through artist calibre to unforgettable location – that looks set to keep rallying its uniquely merry throng for years to come.

© Sue Wilson, 2008

Links

• Hebridean Celtic Festival
• Heb Celt 2008 Picture Gallery