Let these folk’n’country Canadians, The Fugitives, escape into your ears for their, lucky for some, seventh set of songs.

CLARION CALL FOR CANADIANA

There are many who might say that Canada is now the true spiritual home of country music, or what gets that these days. Nashville seems preoccupied with razzmatazz and pop-fusion, with Californian and Texan iterations tending to recycle old glories. So hurrah for the plucky northern US neighbour and long may this remain the case. None of this is new, of course, with a history and heritage that goes back to Shakey and the Band, each of whom always applied a good sprinkling of sawdust to their output, with k.d. lang and the Cowboy Junkies not far behind.

The Fugitives hail from Vancouver. Nominally a four piece of Brendan McLeod, Adrian Glynn, Christopher Suen and Carly Frey, McLeod and Glynn take on all the songwriting and the bulk of the lead vocals. One suspects that it is really their baby. These two play the guitars and, when necessary, balalaika and bass, with Suen taking banjo and Frey fiddle duties. For the album they are joined by extra players, mainly Erik Nielsen on bass and Sally Zori on percussion, rounded out by Tom Dobrzanski, their producer, adding Hammond. For some reason uncertain, Suen only provides banjo on a few of the cuts, it elsewhere coming from Steve Charles. This is all mentioned as, despite the instrumental format, the sound is anything but bluegrass, coming over more as acoustic transatlantic style folk-rock, with country hues added by the banjo and fiddle.

DREAMY SIMMERS

The album opens dreamily, with a languorous road song, with slow simmering banjo and a peaceful fiddle, starting from the sear of a single organ chord. Glynn’s vocals are on the cusp of rusty, The bass is bouncier than just in the application of a pulse. The sound is that of a deserted outback, stretching out across the plains. I guess Canadian tours require a fair old length of time on and in the bus. Backing vocals, from all four, are full and wide-throated, and it is an attractive start, fading out on that same organ note.

BREEZY BUCOLIA

The Fugitives played Glastonbury in 2014. It seems to have been quite an organic experience for them, sufficient for them to pen the second track, entitled as, just that, Glastonbury. Lyrics throughout tend to the mystic and ethereal, here no different: “The last three stand at the base of the sycamores, the errant feeling love has never kept score. We crack the windows open on the fast machine; this is the best thing to happen to me”. I’m presuming that’s good, right, with the song more overtly uplifting, a little hymnal, even, with some near acapella segments. As horns breeze in, it’s all rather bucolic. (And a better festival in 2014 than nowadays, I’ll wager.)

Holy Strength seems structurally simpler, a rich vocal wash of voices, kicked off by a whistling intro and driven, from the front, by Zori’s efficient beat. The balalaika cuts a distinctive voice, with Glynn also touting harmonica and duelling a middle eight with Frey’s fiddle. Under The Ice is stripped back and, despite earlier comment, could be bluegrass, recorded, as it was around what sounds a single mike. Just voices, weaved carefully together, guitars, fiddle, banjo and bass. Towards the end, Frey snakes out a most unexpected snaky beaut of a solo.

A WELL-BALANCED 365

Firefight sees Glynn pass the vocal baton to McLeod, who possesses a lighter voice, a creamy tenor, and it is a soaring cri de coeur, with the full ensemble producing a well-balanced 365 of sound. A catchy na-na-na in the chorus renders it a lasting pleasure, as it “rolls right through me“. Café Deux is then a surprise step up through the gears, some up-tempo soft-rock, as it used be called. Were it not for the banjo and fiddle it could be David Gates’ Bread. The fiddle, mind, re-emphasises what an ear for it Frey possess. Woo hoo, and that blink and you’ll miss it funky ending you didn’t see coming.

ECHOES & INSPIRATION

Can I hear echoes of Loch Lomond as River Hymn starts? It’s no bad thing, a meandering estuary of a song that brings back, gloriously, the brass ensemble, Jack Garton on trumpet and flugelhorn, Oliver de Clercq on French horn. Young Enough is a further all around the mike old time special, starting with voices alone, reminiscing over being young and foolish enough to consider a folk’n’roll band a viable career. Quinn and McLeod show next they are not beyond a passable Everlys, the arrangement, especially the banjo, imparting also a flavour of early Eagles. Steve Charles throws in a neat acoustic guitar break, for Frey to then fire off one of her own. The song is Reckoning and it may be the highlight.

Going all ruminative, As An Ending is a sombre reflection on a lost love’s legacy and where to draw a line. It is another keeper, the other side of the coin from the song before it, which reads as being when that realisation first struck. The choral coos as it closes are delightful, and could have ended the album successfully there. But Window Open has to leave the Fugitives imparting a glass half full hopefulness. “We can peel off the shadows, dream with our eyes closed,
and sleep with the window open; we can speak in our soft tongue and breathe in a day done“. I rather like that, and as the brass chimes back in, I like it even more. A little cheesy and sentimental? So what!

TO A TOWN NEAR YOU

The Fugitives, or at least, two of them, McLeod and Glynn, have a brief UK tour in late June and early July, augmented by Marlene Ginader on fiddle an no less than ATB’s favourite banjo man, Dan Walsh. ATB hope to catch them at The Gate To Southwell festival.

Here’s the album opener, a single released from the set:

The Fugitives: Website

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