Skerryvore slay any scepticism with a precision assault on the senses.

Release Date: 22nd August 2025

Label: Tyree Records, via Cooking Vinyl

Format: CD / Digital

ON A ROLL

Skerryvore are on a roll and they want you to know it. From the unashamedly commercial end of the Scottish music spectrum, like Trail West and the Red Hot Chilli Pipers, they may offend the hardcore Celtic purist, but, at the top of their game, and with a polished professional sheen to their traditional background, they cannot be faulted for the precision with which they can, and do, entertain and enthrall audiences worldwide. And, in a live setting, most misgivings don’t frankly stand a chance.

Skerryvore are 20 years old, and from ceilidh band roots on the tiny Hebridean island of Tiree, the brothers Martin and Daniel Gillespie, initially performing as a duo, and then hooking up with mainland chums, Fraser West and Alec Dalglish, now they have become an 8 man monster. That core, respectively, of pipes, accordion, drums and guitar might seem insubstantial, but locked into a surrounding framework of, currently, second piper, Scott Wood, Craig Espie’s fiddle, the keyboards of Alan Scobie and Jodie Bremanson on bass, it is a mighty castle keep of sound.

With their fierce and loyal following propelling them to the forefront of Celtic folk-rock, by keeping a firm eye on popular culture, they have added in textures of pop and modern country. (Memo to self, country music is currently huge over here and especially in Scotland and Ireland.) Celebrating their two decades with this huge show, to 7000 punters, at Kelso’s Floors Castle, in the Scottish Borders, the concert was recorded, a line in the sand for the band, and solace for those unable to be there personally.

HIGH IN THE MIX

Like all good live albums, the audience are high in the mix, and it is with a chorale of collective anticipation that the set starts, as a low and slow bagpipe drone welcomes on the band. A steady drum beat and a salvo of brit-pop guitar is the first identifiable feature, before Dalglish begins to sing, immediately and undeniably Scottish. It is then that the full ensemble skirl in to add their weight to the riffage. Anthemic songs about home are always a feature of Caledonian songsmiths, and this one, Path To Home, is an archetype. “Hi, Floors Castle“, and we’re off!

It has been said that Skerryvore are a rock band who just happen to have traditional instrumentation on board, and that smacks true, as, take them away, and the sound would be akin to solid melodic rock, thinking of Europe and their Final Countdown as a good example. But the tradition is still hardwired in, as demonstrated by the instrumental up next, The Beasts Of Bone Lake, where fiddle and then accordion solo, colliding/ceilidhing perfectly with the tight rhythm section. Pipes, of course, fire up, bumping geese across the whole central belt, before an exquisite and aching guitar solo, segueing in seamlessly, for a sensational sequence.

BIG SKY TUNES

Power ballads never disappoint in this sort of setting, with Hold On pairing power chordage with whistle for maximum effect. First guests of the evening, the Eves appear, having played also, earlier in the day. No, me neither, but this duo are seemingly huge in the charts and on daytime radio. In truth they get a little lost within the sound, but the exposure may guarantee some crossover, as they add vocals to the poppy Together again. That slight lull is swiftly countered by the piano led romanticism of Everyday Heroes, a big sky tune, where accordion and whistle apply a hefty whiff of, possibly deliberately, Local Hero. As Dalglish whips some Knopfler out of his guitar, the mood is complete. It is impressive.

LIGHTERS IN THE AIR AND EARWORMS

Picking up the gauntlet of mellow, End Of The Line is some prime country and Western Isles, giving an old tug on the heartstrings. OK, only a few bawbees away from mawkishness, but likely enough to still wet an eye. The Sea Sings is a far jollier jump, bobbing along on a jiggy railroad chug, that slips in whistle and accordion between the sleepers.

And if the intro to Good Times Never Die seems formulaic, well, it probably is. Knowing all the big sky music boxes to tick is one thing, but the capacity to fuse in elements across more recent times, and carry it all off, is another. As all the layers accumulate to bring around a John Miles-esque mini-symphony, you can’t hear the lighters in the air, but I’ll bet they were there, as 7000 souls sway in the encroaching dusk. First thoughts were that the melody was a bit threadbare, but how come I can’t now shake it out my ear?

Time now for another guest, with Nathan Carter coming on for a couple of tunes. Carter I have heard of, he being an Irish country music sensation, beloved by the young. Carter reprises the Sharon Shannon squeezebox role for Happy To Be Home, the song Skerryvore used to mark their 10th birthday, he then singing a duet, with Dalglish, of a song he has made his own, Home To Donegal. Too sweet for me, I fear, and my dentition, a phenomenon aimed, perhaps, at other than my demographic, other than to provide a comfort break. The show for a mo then seems a little landlocked in the more saccharine singalong aspects of too many oh-os and oh-o-oh-os, before Eye Of The Storm restores the pop-prog-rock balance, all looming pomp, with slashed chords and piercing whistles aplenty.

Military Roll AND RATATATAT

The celebratory fumes within that song’s climax get taken further with The Rise. Already a percussion heavy march, it gets additional embellishment from some mighty rolls of snare, the drum rhythm of pipe bands everywhere, here provided by Grant Cassidy. Cassidy is a seven times world champion at this, as well as being a Red Hot Chilli Piper percussionist. That band may be anathema to me, but there is something about the military roll and ratatatat of the snare that never fails to raise the small hairs, and here he does just that, in a play-off with the thumps and thwacks of West, that is quite wonderful, making for an uplifting finale.

Finale? Tell that to the 7000, so what else is there to do, if you are an octet from Scotland? Maybe a bit predictably, it is to bring on the entire pipes and drums of the Royal Edinburgh Tattoo, and I defy any true Scot not to wilt under that sort of assault. Utterly magnificent, even if I say otherwise when I get my cool trousers back on tomorrow.

I CAN’T WAIT

This album has sort of changed my tune about Skerryvore. Yes, they can be prone to apply the sentimental pedal sometimes a tad hard, but who doesn’t need a dose of that, every now and then, there being just as much room for that as for the more austere iterations of this style of music. Plus, when away from that, they are as vibrant and powerful as a well-shaken can of Irn Bru; just be careful with that tab. They top the Friday night bill at this year’s Shrewsbury, and, on the basis of this, I can’t blimmin’ wait, and I’m sure I’ll be singing along with the crowd in unalloyed abandon: “Take my hand, and we’ll go dancin’.” Please don’t tell.

Here’s the jolly jump of The Sea That Sings, sadly without the 7000:

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