A band for every season (Tern, Tern, Tern), Flyway is a captivating debut.
Release Date : 7th February 2025
Label : Self-Released
Format : CD / Digital
Scandi-Caledonian folk fusion
A quick gander at this and most the names may be new, but but the dual fiddle, piano, guitar and bodhran line-up, together with the surnames, most of them, might give a clue as to what is in store. Give or take the presence of one Miguel Girão on the guitar, knowledge that he is one of the Clan Girão, based in Glasgow, might help. (OK, a touch of journalistic license, the gifted player hailing originally from Portugal, ahead his parents moving to that city in his childhood.)
Along with Shetland pianist, Amy Laurenson, with whom he also works, in a duo, Tern consists of Perthshire fiddler, Rose Logan, Kristina Leesik, another fiddler, also Glasgow based, originally from Sweden, and Lea Søndergaard Larsen, who, if you are paying attention, must provide the bodhran. She is a Dane. Put it altogether and the recipe is for Scandi-Caledonian folk fusion, of a type to cheer up any a dreich Spring day. Like, looks out window, today.
EXCITED – NOT MAD…
And that is exactly how it starts, with Smackpolskan, a vigorous fiddle work out, written by Leesik, which leaps out the grooves like a march hare, certainly excited if not necessarily mad. As the fiddles cease romping, so Laurenson’s piano rises up to take centre stage, a melody and rhythm instrument, strictly Shetland style. As the guitar and bodhran provide their integral ingredients to this delectable taster, it all ends with a sneaky last order of syncopation. Wasting nary a second, Larsen is already bubbling in a bodhran pattern to introduce the traditional Gaelic of Nighean Donn Nan Gobhar. Loosely translating as Brown Girl of the Goats, this is a well travelled song, covered frequently: we last heard it with Assynt, but the instrumental version here is taken at an even faster lick. These goats are certainly sure footed!
Again it is Laurenson who provides most initial momentum, with fumes of ECM scandi-jazz flowing through her fingertips. As it gets more complex, Larsen and, especially, Girão, keep ascloseasthis to her pace, and it is exhilarating. Just before the midway point, all pause for breath, as if to take in the view. with a slower guitar and bodhran figure then repeating, ahead the fiddles picking up the melody, if at a lower lick. An abrupt end reprises the bubbling bodhran start, with a wee flourish of guitar. Superb!
DON’T GET COMFORTABLE
Tha Mo Ghaols’ Aig Dònal is a further Gaelic traditional tune, this time a slow air. Over a bed of finger picked guitar, a fiddle and then piano skip a restrained step across the machair. With some counterpoint textures from the second fiddle and a patter of bodhran, it allows respite and reflection. Girão can make his guitar sing like a harp whilst accompanying, switching then to apply some of the richer textures of his instrument, as he takes a lead. But, despite the lyrical intro he gifts to, next up, Jigs, don’t get too comfortable.
Yes, the fiddles start slow and seriously, but that is only for Eliza Ross, the first of the three, with the piano beginning a simmer beneath. Jig 58 remains on that low hob, as Laurenson takes pole position to allow a crank up through the gears of the sparring fiddles. Girão peals off an effortless repeating run, picked up by Laurenson, the two neck and neck ahead the fiddles taking again the fore, and into the Orphan for a roustabout finale. All three tunes are again traditional.
big polska BRUBECK
Storpolska or big polska refers to a Scandinavian folk dance in, usually, 3/4 time, and Storpolsk, the track is two such, Vid Fäboden, a second tune by Leesik, and Kung Erik’s Storpolska, by Lovis Jacobsson. It starts with a baroque near fugue piano construction, giving another context to reframe the remit of this quintet. I am presuming that is Vid Fäboden, as it segues into a more formal dance arrangement, with the fiddles and bodhran giving the feel of a courtly banquet some centuries distant. Guitar applies some cross-textural asymmetry, adding a whiff of Dave Brubeck’s idea of time signatures, before a closing segment that wouldn’t be out of place, melodically or structurally, in the sort of complexity offered by jazz-prog fusion. It is all rather fun and rather more than what it might suggest on the tin.
Keeping you guessing, Blodomloppet is a further two paired tunes, the titular one from Patrik Andersson, not the footballer, but a fiddle player, and Bordunpolskan by Leesik, showing herself to be the main songwriter of the group. The first is a gentle pastoral piece, evoking a springtime stream running by, the second, Leesik’s tune, being more squally, the bodhran and guitar setting up a skittering and contrasting basis for their colleagues to billow forth from, under what are now stormier clouds.
TO IRELAND!
It is to Ireland that this free-flying unit now transpose, by way of Jackie Daly’s The Living Stream, embellishing the concertina player’s tune with the heft of paired fiddles and piano. This tune blends seamlessly into Con Carthy’s Favourite, from the Irish tradition, and the Manx jig Hie Mee Stiagh. Across this, Laurenson rings multiple changes in mood over what is a broadly similar melodic scaffold, all by sleight of style. Back to Scandi for Hallings, a montage of two trads, Hallings Efter Per Myrh and Spelandsjenten. A near chamber jazz is now partly the flavour, revealing the bodhran to have rather more bangs to its buck than are often given credit this “simple” single stretched skin. The rest of the flavour is more by way of the delectable cross-rhythms and cross-textures provided by folk dance.
full pelt ensemble mayhem
To close this roundabout passage, it is to Laurenson’s home we are finally delivered, for a set of three Shetland Reels. Namely, Aandowin At Da Bow, Shelder Geö and Come Agen, Ye’re Wylcome, with all three exhibiting the features so evocative of these Islands. Swathes of unison fiddles are one such trademark of this culture, blazin’ and otherwise, and this is firmly in place for the first and the third.
The other is the rolling and slightly lurching piano style; whether this is as a result of the surrounding seas or the near vertical wind is open to question. Be that as it may, Laurenson gives a delightful example as the tunes bridge into each other, ushered in by a defiant guitar and bodhran riff. Thence it is full pelt into more ensemble mayhem, all pushing forward with pleasure and precision, picking up the final section. It’s a great way to close the show.
Normally a debut of this debut beckons in immediate hunger for more. However, here there is possibly regret, as their January Celtic Connections show, to launch the record, marked also the valedictory performances of Laurenson and Girão, both of whom have now left the band. But, noting the “possibly,” the rest of the band are determined to play on and, to that extent, have already recruited pianist Dan Brown, whose Rewilding I raved about in another life, and Chris Amer on guitar. That is extremely good to know.
Here are those Shetland Reels from Tern:
Tern: Linktree / Facebook / Instagram
Keep up with At The Barrier: Facebook / X / Instagram / Spotify / YouTube