Lauren MacColl’s fifth solo album, Haar (Scottish Gaelic for sea mist), was released in the summer of 2023, so once again I’m pitifully late in commenting about it. But better late than ever, because Haar is a warm, glowing wonder.
I make no excuses: I’m a huge fan of hers. There is something so calm and yet emphatic – can the word “wise” be applied to music? – in her playing, and in her tunes as well, that I just stop in my tracks and listen and immerse myself in her music. Her solo recital of old Highland tunes, in Celtic Connections 2020, will remain one of the most memorable live music experiences in my life.
That concert, and the Landskein album, were minimalist in their approach and featured traditional tunes. With Haar, it’s her original material again (with one trad tune) and many same musicians who played on her third album, the stunning The Seer (2017).
Haar comes with tunes that are lovely, often wistful, and yet strong, never maudlin or obvious. There is only one faster (The Lost Bell / Women of the Shore) and one medium tempo (Roodadoo) piece. Everything else is unhurried – I don’t want to use the word “slow” because that would give the wrong impression. The tempo may be restful but the music glows and flows powerfully.
Much kudos goes also to the almost all-female ensemble of Rachel Newton, Anna Massie, Mairearad Greene, Alice Allen and Jennifer Austin, with James Lindsay and his bass as the dude in the team. They play beautifully and Lauren’s own production is brilliant. This was the first album I listened to with my slightly updated audio system and the music really breathes and dances in the ether.
It’s unfair to these tunes to bring forth any ones in particular but, very subjectively, the truly lovely Culbin, the haunting and painful Natal (referring to the tragic wreck of HMS Natal in 1915) and the slowly evolving Lammas Fair are absolutely breathtaking.
Like The Seer and Landskein, Haar benefits from quality headphones. As the music is not loud and there is so much detail to savour, I recommend you to turn off the outside world and wander into the sea mist.
FolkNotes 