It might be stretching the definition of what’s considered to be Celtic Rock, but there’s some fine music, nevertheless, on this latest Cherry Red collection.

Release Date:  21^st June 2024

Label: Strawberry Records (a division of Cherry Red Records)

Formats: 3 x CD boxset

This one’s a bit of a strange one, and it all comes down, I guess, to how you would go about defining ‘Celtic Rock’.  Some, for example, may consider Celtic Rock to be music with origins in the traditions of the six Celtic nations – Ireland, Scotland, Wales, Brittany, Cornwall and the Isle of Man – performed in rock context, whilst others may take the view that it’s rock music played by musicians originating from the Celtic nations.  With the former, it’s the heritage of the music that matters, with the latter, it’s the antecedents of the performers.  For this new compilation, Cherry Red have adopted a kind of hybrid definition that, just maybe, stretches things a little too far.

Let me say, upfront, there’s nothing wrong with this selection.  As I Roved Out contains lots of fine music; I’m just not sure that there will be too many listeners who’ll have their minds continually tuned to the Celtic theme.  The choices for inclusion are – well – sometimes a little unexpected.

Being a Scottish, Welsh, Breton or – particularly – Irish musician gives your work a racing chance of making the bill (there are no selections from either Cornwall or the Isle of Man) but, even then, there are no certainties.  The Irish selections exclude, for example, Horslips – surely the band that above all others define the Celtic rock genre – nor is there space for Moving Hearts, Planxty or even Fruupp and, turning to Scotland, Capercaillie, The Waterboys and Five Hand Reel are all conspicuous by their absence.

And, turning to those that do have songs included: Ballyshannon-born, Cork-raised Rory Gallagher is undoubtedly Irish, but his musical influences owe far more to Chicago than they do Clonmel.  Thin Lizzy, represented here by – what else? – Whiskey In The Jar have a stronger case for inclusion; their song is, after all, a traditional one and they retained the Celtic flavourings in their music even as they ventured deeper into hard rock but it’s Gilbert O’Sullivan’s Breakfast, Dinner And Tea – the ‘B’ side to his 1974 single, Happiness Is Me And You – that stretches the elastic of the Celtic rock definition furthest.  OK, he was raised in Waterford, but is Carole King-influenced pop really what people will expect when they browse this boxset?

But, enough of the nit-picking.  As I’ve already hinted, there is some excellent music on As I Roved Out, so why don’t I talk about some of that…?  Ireland first:

It’s the track from The Woods Band, the post-Steeleye Span/ Dr. Strangely Strange vehicle set up by Gay and Terry Woods that gives this collection its title and the song is a textbook folk/ rock version of an oft-covered ballad.  An early incarnation of Clannad is here, too, with Siúbhán Ni Dhuibhir, a track from their eponymous 1973 debut album.  All the Clannad component parts are already in place; the tune is awash with harp and soft percussion and Moya’s vocal style is already fully formed.  Jackie Mcauley’s bluesy, baroque, Bangerine is magical and never looses touch with its folk roots and Co. Cork outfit Loudest Whisper chip in with Silent O’Moyle, a soaring ballad that sounds traditional, even though it isn’t.  The outer limits of what I’d call Celtic rock are, perhaps, broached a little by Granny’s Interiors whose solid, heavy, Maybe sounds closer to LA than to Limerick, Skid Row, who expose their blues-rock ambitions with the Irish-sounding Oi’ll Tell You Later and Peggy’s Leg, who venture into prog rock territory with their philosophical History Tells.

There’s some great material from Scotland included here and it’s only really Al Stewart of the selected artists who doesn’t sit comfortably with a Celtic Rock label tied around his neck.  Electric Los Angeles Sunset, taken from his 1970 Zero She Flies album is a mellow and memorable song but, so it seems, Al wasn’t in touch with his inner Celt when he wrote and recorded it.  But, elsewhere, Archie Fisher’s Orfeo is exactly the kind of material I was expecting when I picked up this album; it’s a grand mix of acoustic guitar and orchestration and Archie’s vocals are truly commanding. 

Sticking with Scotland, Shelagh McDonald’s version of the traditional ballad Dowie Dens of Yarrow is simply beautiful and Johnny o’ Braidislea, the contribution from the much-missed JSD Band gallops along.  The Incredible String Band strategy was always to use their Celtic roots as a foundation for their psychedelic explorations, as they do here, on Dear Old Battlefield, a favourite track from their 1971 Liquid Acrobat as Regards The Air album, and Runrig give no clues with regard to their future flirtations with bombast with the delightful, tight, folky and wholly Gaelic Da Ni Mi and Puirt.  But, perhaps, the Scottish track that delighted me the most was the rousing Rattlin’ Roarin’ Willie from Glasgow’s Contraband.  Guitars and fiddles dish out the reels and the vocals – from Mae McKenna (sister to Ted and Hugh of The Sensational Alex Harvey Band) are stunning.

Into Wales, and things start to get a bit different.  Here, the mood is definitely leaning more towards conventional rock, but the Welsh language – used in all of the Welsh selections – keeps the songs firmly anchored to their Celtic roots.  Mathonwy, a 1969 ‘B’ side from Huw Jones is a slice of psychedelic pop, packed with soaring guitars and vocal harmonies, whilst Siwsi, the contribution from the trio, Y Nhw, has more of a Eurovision feel to it.  The vocal stylings of Annie Haslam or Sonja Kristina come over loud and clear in Nos Ddu, a stirring 70s rocker from Cardiff singer Heather Jones, whilst the light, West Coast tones of Jefferson Airplane are evident in Clychau Cantre’r Gwaelod, from Powys 4-piece, Hergest.

And the outstanding Welsh track?  Well, for me, that would be Hedydd, from pioneering folk-rockers, Edward H Dafis, the rockiest – and the folkiest – of the Welsh selections.

And thence, to Brittany – the final stop on our tour of the Celtic nations.  As a former Alan Stivell sideman and, briefly, a member of Fairport, Dan Ar Braz will require little introduction to At The Barrier regulars and, with his input here, Allez Dire À La Ville, he has the opportunity to demonstrate his prowess on the electric guitar and exercise the strength of  his vocal chords.  Nantes outfit, Namnètes contribute the folkiest of the Breton selections with Adieu Ma Mie and, probably, the outstanding track is La Charette Des Mortes, an extraordinary song from Lorient all-female sextet Kyaldian.  Urgent and dramatic, with additional excitement provided by the crashing guitars, they sound, for all the world, like a Breton reincarnation of The Watersons.

Now; there’s no doubting that Celtic music provided much of the inspiration for the folk-rock movement that swept Britain during the late sixties and early seventies and which continues to provide sustenance for many – including quite a few of us who contribute to these pages – so it’s highly appropriate that a few contributions from English artists who have taken inspiration from the Celtic folk traditions should be included in this compilation.  But, once again, I fear that a few tricks may have been missed. 

Blackwaterside (it’s Sandy Denny’s version, from her 1971 solo debut, North Star Grassman And The Ravens, that’s included here) is said to originate in Northern Ireland, Jig a Jig, from East Of Eden is a marvelous adaptation of the traditional Drowsy Maggie, that gets jazzier and jazzier the longer it goes on, and there’s no doubting the origins of Streets Of Derry, the contribution from Trees that features a shiver-inducing vocal from the glorious Celia Humphris.  They’re all songs that get a tick in the Celtic rock box, but…

Why select A Sailor’s Life – a song collected in Suffolk – to represent the work of Fairport Convention when the band have a locker that’s jam-packed with Irish – and Scottish – traditional tunes?  They’ve even had a Breton amongst their number, albeit for only a short time.  And, there’s no doubt that the writings of Rod Stewart and, particularly, Ronnie Lane owe a lot to the folk traditions of Britain and America, but I do question whether the inclusion of Flags And Banners, from The Faces Ooh La La album (it’s a great song, by the way…) sits comfortably with the theme of this collection; and, as for Wishbone Ash and Warrior – the fragility of the relationship with Celtic Rock is, I suggest, stretched to breaking point.

So: As I Roved Out:  A collection of excellent songs and a thoroughly entertaining listen.  But the concept is stretched in places.

Listen to Dowie Dens of Yarrow by Shelagh McDonald – on of the boxset’s outstanding songs – here:

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