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Review: Transatlantic Sessions, Bristol Beacon – ‘The sets of tunes were glorious’
It’s been a little while since Bristol has seen the Transatlantic Sessions, that celebration of the interweaving of Americana, Bluegrass and the folk traditions of Ireland and Scotland.
A little while since some of the greatest traditional musicians have arrayed themselves across this stage. It is so good to see them again, so good to be enfolded into their tartan patchwork quilt.
The threads that bind the two sides of the Atlantic are twisted and tangled; the music so bound together that it’s almost impossible to separate them. Not that the Transatlantic Sessions band try. Infact, the more they tug on threads, the more entwined they become.
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The way this thing works is simple. An astonishing house band play and guests stroll in to add their own flashes of magic.
That house band is led by Aly Bain (fiddle) and Jerry Douglas (lap steel), and features renowned Celtic and roots musicians Phil Cunningham, John Doyle, Michael McGoldrick, John McCusker, Donald Shaw, James Mackintosh and Daniel Kimbro. Each, in his own right, an absolute master of almost any instrument they pick up.
With so many extraordinary musicians on the stage, it’s no surprise that the instrumental tunes have feet itching to dance. McGoldrick’s pipes, flutes and whistles blend seamlessly with the fiddles of McCusker and Bain, all of which welcome the lap steel of Douglas with open arms.
On Waiting on the Federals and Gone to Fortingall/Wired to the Moon the Celtic and the American weave around one another until it’s impossible to separate Appalachia from Shetland.
If all UK/US relations were this friendly, then trade agreements would be seconds away.
McGoldrick’s uilleann pipes explode across a set of jigs, Fraher’s/Patsy Geary’s/Para Handy, getting the blood moving and eyes shining. Fiddle and accordion keeping pace, as if propelled by some fearsome magic.
An old-timey set, led by Allison de Groot and Tatiana Hargreaves, was a flurry of banjo, fiddle and flute. Bluegrass and Celtic traditions, once again, stitched together.
The sets of tunes were glorious but the exciting thing about any Transatlantic Sessions tour are the guest vocalists that augment the house band. The band might be a bit boys-y but the standout vocalists were all female.
Lindsay Lou is a country singer from Nashville, by way of Michigan. An, actual, coal miner’s daughter, sheprovides a folksy take on Americana and brings the house down.
Slightly frustratingly, each vocalist only gets a handful of songs. You felt that Bristol Beacon would have happily listened to Lou all night. Mining her latest album, Queen of Time, for three songs, the title track was a standout.
A country song catchy enough to whistle, as fiddle and lap steel provide something close to mariachi. If these Sessions are about uncovering something new, then Lou perfectly fits the bill.
Equally breathtaking was Kim Carnie, previous winner of the Scots Trad Music Awards Gaelic singer of the year and lead singer of Mànran.
Singing, mainly, in Gaelic her voice was the morning breeze gently caressing a mountainside of heather. It was sweetly dusky, a dreamed whisper from a different world.
Her sole English song, She Moves Me, as bright and beautiful as anything this evening. Alongside Lou she also contributed some incredible harmonies to the rest of the night.
Jerry Douglas introduced Carlene Carter as “Country royalty”. There’s a very real possibility that this was an understatement of the highest proportions. Her mother was June Carter, her stepfather Johnny Cash and grandmother Maybelle Carter.
To be a member, in the widest sense, of the Carter Family surely marks her out and at no stage did she disappoint. As soon as she opens her mouth to sing you just know that you are in the presence of greatness.
Her own song, I Fell in Love, is serious roadhouse fun, a Cowboy-booted firecracker. As all of the guest vocalists gathered for a version of Wildwood Flower, the Carter Family standard, you realised that Lou is a glittering chip from Carlene Carter’s block.
A tiny hint of the Grand Ole Opry materialised in Bristol. As if this wasn’t enough, Carter led this band of genius players in a joyous, raucous, delirious version of Ring of Fire. It was one of those “I was there” moments.
As every yarn was pulled, the warp and weft of the evening drew this incredible collection of musicians and singers together.
America, Scotland, Ireland and each of their cultures were drawn tight. The celtic connections were unbreakable.
Main photo: Gavin McNamara
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