Dust or storm, Ryan kicks it all up regardless, in a brazen banjo driven bonanza of some brilliance.

CHUNKY CHATTER

If you are a lover of the chunky chatter of tenor banjo, as it lurches across Celtic hued musics, you will know of Ryan, one of the more celebrated practitioners of the instrument, whether with Dallahan or Shooglenifty, each of which band he graces, or in his own right, solo and with his own band. Another artist fresh from the yearly hooley of Celtic Connections, he also launched this, his latest release, at this year’s extravaganza. (Frustratingly, unlike his last, it is currently only available as a digital release, but Bandcamp can certainly point you in the right direction.)

The eponymous band he last ran with has been put to bed, and this is a more organic ensemble, with a wider range of instrumentation. So, alongside Ryan, we get Tom Callister on fiddle (Imàr), Ryan Murphy on flute and Uillean pipes (Mànran), Luc McNally on bouzouki and guitar (Malin Lewis) and Amy Laurenson on piano (Tern). And if that isn’t enough, the engine room is stoked by two percussionists, Greg Barry, drummer for Elephant Sessions and Gnoss‘s Craig Baxter on bodhran. Phew, that is quite a band!

GAS FULL ON THE FLOOR

Opening on a briskly strummed bouzouki, a flurry of lower register banjo notes infiltrate and expand. Fiddle and piano join the fray, and before long the gas is full on the floor, courtesy the propulsive efforts of Barry and Baxter. This is the triad of Cheap And Nasty, Trip To Dalian and The Hornpipe Reel, the team sparring with and across each other with aplomb. With Callister and Laurenson picking up the rein for the middle of the medley, as the appropriately maritime feel of the final part kicks in, pipes now present and correct, it is seven cylinder scintillating.

How often can you say you are knackered even ahead track two? But, if seeking respite, look away now, as it isn’t here. Flute enters the fray for Emma’s Trip To Bass Rock, which, as it breaks into Two Nights In Helsinki and then the beautifully descriptive Ba Dum Dum, becomes increasingly geometrically complex. Is that the Uillean pipes taking a turn at the head? It certainly is! Things then strip back, at least initially, for another set of three. Starting with The Irish Stuff, as it segues into Cheery Cheery Fun Times, you have to wonder where all these song titles come from, with the answer being, like the tunes, all from Ryan’s own inspirations.

ENSEMBLE ALIGHT!

By the time Mental Morag (?!) heads up the rear, the ensemble is alight. Such seemingly instinctive and intuitive play can only come from dedication to the art and the craic, with neither in any short supply. The albums feels already more coherent and confluent than the last, the realisation that you need no pretense to be modern in the pursuit of such timeless music. A glorious fiddle solo is bookended by the clatter and wallop of Barry, and this is already a contender for that list of albums we publish in December.

STACCATO BANJAXING

With more top titles to keep the eyebrows up, quite the rationale for The Secret Triplet/Alfredone’s/Greg Barry’s Carpet Factory is anyone’s guess, especially the last; song titles are always a serious matter in Scots/Irish music, and it seems harsh to have to wait for the live shows for the necessary background to be supplied. As ever, it is the staccato banjaxing that holds all these tunes together, tightly defined precision playing, forever hinting at the risk of chaos, teetering always from that brink. Laurenson places the first footprints in these three, before an H bomb hooley is unleashed by her rippling fingers. Banjo and flute conjoin perfectly.

Proving they can extend to playing a single melody throughout one track, Tune for Rose is placed perfectly, midset. A slow air, principally with fiddle leading the way over some sparse piano notes, it becomes a wracked masterclass in melancholia, of the sort only the Celts can truly tap into. A slow build adds further glorious mawk, with a plaintive pipe drone, hanging on the horizon, before Murphy picks up on the melody. Frankly, this deserves more than a digital only release.

VITAL LIFE FORCE/MORE BANJO!

Back then to ballyhoo for the jaunty Rocks Of Solitude, blurring then into Robbie’s Reel and the title piece for the album. The percussion is the vital life force that underpins this and so much of this release, and the joint contributions cannot be underemphasised. That and the incessant tumble of notes from Ryan at the helm. Were it not already right, left and centre, “more banjo!” would surely be the cry! This album really is a cracker. And still onward, with The Wanderer pairing with Comically Bumpy. Which, reader, it is, even ahead the join, a marvellous feat of syncopation that is both, yes, bumpy and, if you will, grindy. P.S. It get’s faster, so you may need to warn your hips.

Finally, and far too soon, it is time for the closer. This sees Aiofe’s triple up with Sweet Relief and, best name yet, Sausage Gate, which begs for far too much information. There is very little sweet relief offered, mind, as the septet continue pell mell to a glorious finale. As Sausage Gate ends (closes?), each of the lead instruments get a four bar, if that, shufti to shake off any final residual ballast, with Callister, especially, throwing all caution from the vegans, for a bluster of OTT bow work. It is as exhilarating a moment as I can think of, necessitating numerous repeats.

ATTENTION DEMANDED

Eight tracks and twenty one tunes show Ryan really is a primal force of his rotary powered plectrum, and, by placing himself with this supergroup of instrumental folk, this is a record that demands attention. It got mine. Give it yours!

Grab an earful of Rocks Of Solitude/Robbie’s Reel/Kick Up The Dust below:

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