Game upped, beats precisioned and vocals aligned, what’s not to love? Valtos release The Last Light.
A BIT OF A SHOOGLE
With the demise of Niteworks, there has been a sure bit of a shoogle, in the pecking order of Scotland’s finest neo-tradders, to see who might be best fated (fêted?) to fill the void left behind. A style of music usually referred to, if outside any purveyor’s earshot, as Gaelictronica, the key features tend to be of merging EDM with the fiddle, pipes and whistles of Scots-Gaelic tradition, together with some of the finest practitioners of songs sung in the Gaelic. Valtos, whose trajectory began on the same island, Skye, have some overlaps with the ‘Works, and, indeed, feature many of the same guests as did that band.
This is the 3rd long playing release from the, nominally, duo of Daniel Docherty and Martyn MacDonald, although many of the players featured here are familiars at their live shows, sufficient to consider them as essential parts to the equation.
So, fresh from the debut and it’s successor, a collation of their singles and remix collabs thus far, here return singers, Lana Pheutan and Eilidh Cormack, plucker and strummer of all things strung, Euan McLaughlin and bagpipe and whistle man, Finn McPherson. Cormack is well known as one of the trio, Sian, who were core to a lot of Niteworks’ success, and McLaughlin is part of both An Danssa Dub and, newly, Shooglenifty, as well as having one of the most distinctive gruagaichean across the Western isles. McPherson we know from Falasgair. But there are a whole lot more participants here to, to include rising stars like Beluga Lagoon, alongside more established names like Julie Fowlis and Kim Carnie.
ELECTRONIC EUPHORIA
Cianalas starts, as albums like this often do, with scatters of captured words, emanating from varied sources, over a backdrop of what sounds, like orchestral tuning. The most telling phrase, “I’m not trying to change the face of Scottish music; it’ll change on it’s own, in ways I don’t even know how.” comes both as a disclaimer, and as a riposte against any purists offended by this latest wave of Gregor come latelys, of which, as ever, there will be many. Pheutan then starts to sing, uncharacteristically in English, her voice a pure spirit that floats over the emerging soundscape. This introductory statement, as it couldn’t really be called a song, ends abruptly, point duly made.
Still embracing this foreign tongue, it is still, for Where Do I Go (From Here), Pheutan singing, over a repeating keyboard pattern. A whistle whistles evocatively, there already a deliberate tempo mismatch between the rhythmic keys and the pastoralism of all else. I suspect this is one of her own songs, she increasingly bringing her compositions forward. It sustains a hypnotic build, adding choral vocals and the hint, never quite delivered, of an electronic euphoria, holding it back this time, tantalisingly.
APPLYING STUDIO TECH THEN UNTHINKABLE
As the same singer launches into the instantly recognisable Coisich, reverting now to Gaelic, it sets up an interesting train of thought around the Capercaillie version, back in, gulp, 1991, the first song in Gaelic to break the UK top 40. I dare say aficionados of that version, and of that band, would fail to see any irony that this band, Valtos, are applying exactly the same values as were their forbears, if now applying studio tech unthinkable of then. And I am likewise sure Donald Shaw, Karen Matheson and co. would applaud. I do, but it is still a brave tune to target. A word here around the electronic backing, especially the beats, which have improved immeasurably since Valtos’ first. At times, on that debut, some of the percussion came around as a little too formulaic and, dare I say it, jive bunny. No such mistakes here.
I’m thirsty now for a little more trad in my teuchter heart, and this now duly appears for The Ghost. Not that much, mind, but, once the distinctive vocals of Andrew O’Donnell , aka Beluga Lagoon, finish the introductory stanza, it is the small pipes of McPherson that come soaring in, over a rocksteady 4:4 pulse at a dance friendly bpm. Most ears will, however, be caught more by those vocals, and probably, like me, keen to hear more. Let’s just say, to discover this artist, also a film-maker, has released 6 albums over 8 years, all available via Bandcamp, has come as a delight, his earthy burr redolent of a slightly less urban take on Paolo Nutini. There is also some extremely tasty banjo rippling through the heart of the track here.
A MASSIVE BANGER
Another name new to me is Lucia and the Best Boys, who feature on The Night, which, as it starts, deadrings resoundingly for London Grammar. As whistles join the juddery rhythm it becomes a massive banger, something I hadn’t necessarily expected from the PR blurb attached. As I write, it is on repeat, as I investigate, too, their back story.
The fact that were chosen to support Garbage on their 2024 tour comes as no surprise. Neither the fact that the album sequencing now needs, and gives, a breather, with the chill down (barely a) minute of Blac Fàire. But don’t get too rested, as it then segues straight into current single, Close Your Eyes, which is further belter. This features Cormack on vocoder vocals, apparently a first for the language, and is a song from up and coming singer/songwriter Isla Scott, who adds harmonies. ATB loved it a single and see it no differently now. If anything, the house music piano representation cements it even more strongly.
BAGPIPES OF THE HIGHLAND VARIETY
Fàirean Ùra ushers in bagpipes of the highland variety. Whether they are from McPherson or fellow practitioner, Kenneth MacFarlane, another Valtos alumnus, who features also across the album, this is a further burst to shift moods. I was going to say short, it then coming as a shock to see that, actually, none of the songs could be construed as long, nothing over 5 minutes and few over 3. They seem longer and in a good way. Far Do Re Ro, which follows, did, it’s true, have me little nervous. Featuring Ruaraidh Gray, who is the darling of the Mòd, affecting an odd, if worryingly endearing, young fogey stance with his adoring audience; think Daniel O’Donnell mixed with Jacob Rees-Mogg. Whether the track, awash with small pipes, distort and beats, works with his curious voice, well, I guess it depends on individual tolerance. Musically, it’s great, let’s say, and growing.
ON FIRE
As Kim Carnie applies the smooth vocal lube we have become familiar with, for A’ Ghealach, it seems to me this the direction she is currently steering Mànran toward. I am uncertain whether it is electricity or lungs powering the whistle effects, suspecting a studio fusion of the two, that working admirably and it is banger number 3. Jings, not realising we are counting, The Rebel is then a prime unfiltered burst of Niteworks quality neo-trad with taped in historical documentary dialogue. McPherson is on fire on the pipes. Who could possibly top that?
Easy peasy, actually, if you are Julie Fowlis. This Uist singer is as happy with the tradition as she is with the young upstarts who usurp it to their own devices, knowing well she has the voice to transcend anything. But here, when it is Gaelictronica set-text template, Blackbird, you may well as give her your bank account details as gamble with any chance it won’t be nailed. (Yes, like me, you may have wondered whether this was to be a reprise of her fabled take on Paul McCartney’s Blackbird, Lon-dubh, it isn’t.) Gloriously atmospheric, Docherty, MacDonald and co. apply enough of a new sheen to transform it. The percussion is exquisite, as is the guitar, putatively McLaughlin. And that quote, about Scottish music, gets a repeat, and a reveal it was Bennett who actually spoke it. Respect.
A BALANCED VENGEANCE
Destination Melbourne has the task of following that, with Pheutan again singing. It is fine, of course it is, but cannot compare, despite the clear enthusiasm applied. Pure pop, electro style, regardless of origin. Choosing to then end with. bit of a magnum opus may seem folly, not least, sorry, as Blackbird still lingers large, but the band give it a good go with The Year. A slow-burn infused with echo, might it have featured better earlier? Having said, each listen, especially as the banjo returns with balanced vengeance, and the beats thumping in, I’m already reconsidering. The vocal, I think Pheutan, is a compelling as any across the album. Or very nearly.
CAN’T WAIT
Valtos are a band now, as well as a collective, and are as much a live experience as a player of the pre-recorded. This is part of that journey and, with success dependent on how these songs might appear, minus heavy friends, well, that’s the rub. But, on reports received, it being a pleasure I have yet to experience, the jury suggests they manage their live as well without as with. Can’t wait!
Try The Night, with Lucia & the Best Boys, for (additional) size.
Valtos: Website