Breabach

So… Breabach finally hits town. It’s been hard on Essex boy TK over the last few folk clubs,announcing that Breabach are coming. Hard because pronouncing ‘ch’ in the Scottish manner as in ‘och aye’ doesn’t come easy to one from so South of the Border. But aside from intoning a hard ‘ch’, his pronunciation, although mocked, has been really quite fine; much better in fact than one of those pronunciation websites I tried… entering ‘Breabach’ resulted in a weird mid-Atlantic, robo-voice making a sound the likes of which I’ve never heard or would hope to ever hear.

But what does Breabach mean? Having no Gaelic I would take a punt and say it had something to do with trousers. Wrong. Googling, I see that it is… 

‘a Gaelic word that generally translates to "kicking", "prancing” or “stamping". In the context of the Scottish folk band Breabach, it signifies their unique musical style and the energetic performance that often involves stamping and dancing.’ More on that later.

The set begins with ‘Fàs’… a tune and the title of their 2022 album. We have double whistles, acoustic guitar, fiddle, a not-often-seen double bass and lovely Gaelic vocals. Capercaillie or Clannad come to mind, trad elements, foraged and delicately simmered for our anticipating palates. A whistle drops out and a bouzouki appears in Calum MacCrimmon’s hands to take the set forward. We hear a gorgeous, rich, chocolatey double bass passage from James Lindsay… delightful to hear, beautifully played and not an easy instrument to get on the bus so respect can only be due.

The overall sense of the band is sophistication; elegant, almost polite ensemble playing, like a string and whistle quintet. Quite delicate.

But wait, suddenly not one but two bagpipes erupt, skirling, wailing. Chests swell … Bannockburn, Robert the Bruce, shortbread tins, Callanish, Rabbie Burns, Caledonian MacBrayne, Ally MacLeod… ah, wha’s like us? But wait, now Megan moves to the front and starts step dancing. Well, at risk of being a little un-pc, the place goes ‘nuts’. The reserved, front parlour politeness has gone and we’ve just kicked over the furniture and set fire to the carpet. As if that weren’t enough, later in the set Calum joins Megan down the front for a spot of do-not-try-this-at-home double step dancing.

Must mention the ‘shop’. This is the first time I’ve heard of socks being on the merch table, Breabach socks! And, en passant, it was mentioned that the Breabach pants had sold out… they may have been joking but you never know these days.

And finally, must mention the touching tale told of Cape Breton fiddler and keyboard player John Morris Rankin – a member of the great Rankin Family. Breabach play his tune ‘The Last March’. Rankin passed away in 2000 in a car accident at age 40.  He liked to compose tunes on his keyboard – a keyboard that lets you record your playing. After he passed, someone was tinkering with the keyboard and found this undiscovered, unheard tune sitting in the keyboard’s memory… hence, ‘The Last March’.

A fine, fine evening and yet another highlight in Crail’s folk calendar.

Words by Callum MacLeod, pictures by Peter Salkeld.