The last time that MAGNET checked in on Scottish singer/guitarist Alasdair Roberts, surveying the stylistic zigzags of his last few LPs, we noted that he likes to change things up. Sometimes, that means revising old company and seeing what might come of it. That’s the case on his new album.
In 2012, Roberts and singer Màiri Morrison, who mostly sings in Gaelic, made Urstan, which celebrated a variety of Celtic songcraft. The collaboration went well, but since they’re both busy folk, a follow-up didn’t happen until a third party intervened. Enter Pete Johnston, a Toronto-based jazz bassist and ethnomusicology lecturer. He invited the pair to join him in Nova Scotia, where he grew up, to record some songs that had survived the journey from Scotland to Canada and then a few centuries of isolation.
Sometimes, folk tunes endure because they’re in some way relatable in the present; other times, they last because they connect people to things they’ve lost. Both are true of the 10 songs selected for Remembered In Exile: Songs And Ballads From Nova Scotia. Any Nova Scotian yearning to imagine a sniff of the old sod might gladly breathe deep of “Hind Horn” (a lilting tale of a returning exile) or the references to castle walls on “The Bonny House Of Airlie.” But people have been falling in and out of love while dealing with plagues, wars and poverty for eons, so while the language is sometimes antiquated, the stories are pretty universal.
The two singers have a chemistry born of shared love for the material and differing vocal styles. Morrison, who alternates between Gaelic and English this time out, has an effortlessly sturdy croon that easily traverses tongues and octaves. The quaver in Roberts’ voice, on the other hand, imparts an illusion of fragility that’s complemented by spare settings for fiddle, guitar and Johnston’s swinging bass pulse. At other points, Johnston scales things up with drums, banjo and Andrew Killawee’s harmonium, which is practically a one-man orchestra.
Remembered In Exile arrives at a time when currents of covetousness and betrayal have complicated the usually harmonious relationship between the United States and Canada. Songs don’t resolve such clashes, but they do carry information and change perspectives. Is it too much to hope that this album will serve to remind some Americans that Canada has a culture and history of its own? [Drag City]
—Bill Meyer
