In my comment to the Afro Celt Sound System's record "Anatomic" I gave Iarla Ó Lionáird high praise and called him "one of the true voices of our contemporary music". Why? What is it in him that isn't to be found in all the other artists mixing sean-nós in modern influence? An impossible question to answer.
I am very particular about making as little sense being the key to enrichening my experiences - that is, I cherish the notion that there are things in my consciousness, in even the most fundamental of principles and opinions, that I can't figure out because they are so essentially tied to my own personality. I could be the product of my enviroment, and partially I am, yet I am also the product of my soul. So every time a voice reaches deeper than others, straight into the heart of the matter, into the mysterious space I can't define in myself, it's a cause to celebrate. Ó Lionáird is like this, there is vision in his voice alone, and certain economy, especially as we're directly descending from Afro Celt Sound System. This is lusher than his previous albums, but also sparer. He says a lot more with less trouble.
The songs themselves tie together and all of them feel integrated together. The music itself is in touch with our time yet it's still so not Zeitgeist it's refreshingly healthful. There are arcs of sound coming and going, floating and shivering about, and none of it is palpable enough to be immersed with first listenings. I remember buying "Anatomic" and this the same day, and it was not but only after a week of listening to "Anatomic" that I got around to listening this record through for the first time. And now it has filled my imagination already. "A Nest of Stars" is one of his best songs, an amazing contrast of the economical and sonic lushness. And Ó Lionáird's voice hovers above the soundscape like that of an angel, sometimes accompanied by a whole canvas of sounds, sometimes, as in the profound "Taimse Im' Chodladh" or "I'm Weary of Lying Alone", by scarcely anything at all. This is the combination of the best things in sean-nós and modern 'fusion' (that graveyard of a word). This is in the vein of Martyn Bennett at his best ("Glen Lyon", 2001): meditative, contemplative, deeply alive and existential. Ó Lionáird knows his Weltschmerz, but is seems he also knows ours. Even thinking of "An Buchailin Ban" sends shivers down my spine.
This is only his third album in the past ten years, so let's hope he continues to go down his path, as he seems to be giving us an album more glorious than the earlier with each release.
With best regards,
AK