Arc Light
WORDS: Sam Easterbrook (Sprout Editorial Group)
I once went to the Celtic Media Festival on the Isle Of Skye.
The drive there was spectacular, hugging Loch Ness and winding through mountains.
As we crossed over the bridge to Skye, with the sun turning the pure evening air scarlet, the hills were on fire, an image that will forever be scorched in my mind.
It then rained for the next four days. It was grey. It was miserable. So were the films.
Lau's new album, Arc Light (Navigator Records) is a collection of 10 songs (including a pointless version of Dear Prudence tacked on the end) which remind me of Skye.
Twice winners of Best Group at the Radio 2 Folk Awards, Lau are seen as the new great hope. But to these ears it sounds like everything that's come before. Even when playing at a jaunty tempo the songs seem to swim in narcotic melancholia.
Are Celts inherently miserable? Or do the circumstances we find ourselves in (i.e. the weather) affect our art in this way? I'm not sure, but I could happily never hear a fiddle again for the rest of my days.
I understand it's important to continue and support the traditional music of the UK (see the Scottish Arts Council logo on the back of the CD) but things also need to progress.
From what I comprehend Lau are trying to move things forward, but Arc Light is still a depressing album that will not spread folk out of it's self-constructed ghetto.
