various artists,
Celtic Moods
(Virgin Records, 1997)


Whenever there's the slightest sign of popularity in any previously marginal subject, be it urban fantasy fiction, Native American art, funny animal movies, there's always, without fail, an inevitable rush to cash in. The same holds true with Celtic music, and Celtic Moods is Virgin Records' attempt to cash in. The scary thing is, they did a pretty good job of it -- far better than 90 percent of the other knock-offs floating around in the record bins these days.

Of course, longtime fans of Celtic music will likely scoff at some of the selections as being old hat or (gasp!) too mainstream. But this compilation is an excellent sampler for someone who's curious about what all the fuss is about. This disc's subtitle is "A Celtic companion to Pure Moods," the wildly successful collection of moody techno-pop synth music, and as such delivers a (mostly) atmospheric mix of music that is generally faithful to that billing.

A pair of soundtrack selections start things off -- Carter Burwell's windswept, forlorn overture from the movie Rob Roy and Clannad's haunting "Theme from Harry's Game" -- solid choices which had no small impact on the flavor of their respective films. Eleanor McEvoy's mournful "Only a Woman's Heart" and Mary Coughlan's defiant "Invisible to You" offer somewhat less ethereal melodies, as the singers take on failed romance with an unflinching eye that would not be out of place on popular radio among the other Angry Young Women of the day.

For more traditional jigs and reels, Leahy's "The Call to Dance Medley" (Westburne Reel, Andy Renwick's Ferret), Capercaillie's "The Gaelic Reels" and Sharon Shannon's "Blackbird" offer an enthralling mix of fiddle, concertina and other assorted sounds that come out as not so much traditional as noveau-traditional. The energy and bliss of traditional jigs and reels are certainly there, but the presentation is updated and fresher, losing none of its spark in the translation.

Without a doubt, though, the showstopper here is Ashley MacIsaac's rendition of "Sleepy Maggie." Powered by MacIsaac's insistent, no-holds barred fiddling, this tune takes on a life of its own and demands a listener's full attention. Add on top of that the impetuous, buoyant vocals of Gaelic singer Mary Jane Lamond (who also helped arrange the piece) and "Sleepy Maggie" transcends itself. Lamond sings the Gaelic lyrics with such authority and flair that, by golly, it seems that all a listener has to do to understand them is listen just a wee bit harder.

Interestingly, some of the weakest material her is by some of the most successful contributors. U2's The Edge and Sinéad O'Connor team up on "Heroine," which is pleasant but forgettable -- more suited for album filler, a job it succeeds at here. The same is also pretty much true for Matt Malloy's "The Crib of Perches/Carmel Mahoney Mulhaire's" and Altan's "Caide Sin Don Té Sin?" The latter is an especially odd choice. Considering the wealth of top-shelf Altan material available, why was this blander offering selected over something such as "The Sunset" or "King of the Pipers"? Still, it's hard to go wrong with a collection like this, and even the lesser offerings on this disc would qualify as a prime cut on most others.




Rambles.NET
music review by
Jayme Lynn Blaschke


30 May 1999


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