In the media yoke this week is Damien Mullane’s new album “Evoke.” An album of exceptional musicianship and extraordinary vision, it’s certainly rooted in traditional music, but you wouldn’t accuse it of staying there because in the final tally the music is fashioned in the most modern and sophisticated of ways. This is a fabulous album with a very contemporary feel that should be on the radar of anyone interested in Irish music in general.
Mullane, who is from London, was 12 when a performance by Mairtin O’Connor inspired him to take up the button accordion. And just a few years later, he’d won a bunch of All-Ireland titles on both accordion & melodeon at each of the various and sundry levels and then found himself playing with Frankie Gavin in De Dannan. In 2012, he was on the "Pure Irish Drops" concert tour that led to the “Home Away From Home: Irish Music From England” with Kevin Crawford (flute) and Colin Farrell (fiddle) and that same year, he released “13,” his solo debut. At the moment, he plays with Sean O’Meara (guitar) and Conor Broderick (keyboards) as the Damien Mullane Trio. Both O’Meara and Broderick are key players here on “Evoke.”
But this thumbnail leaves out a lot. Over the years, Mullane’s technical abilities and his standing in traditional music attracted the attention of a lot of important and quite famous musicians outside of Ireland, allowing him to fully transcend the traditional music world. This list includes superstars like Ron Wood, James Taylor, Sting, Bob Geldof, Bill Whelan (on “Riverdance"), and probably others as well that I’m ignorant of, who, collectively, have taken Mullane literally around the world and featured him on some of its most prestigious stages. It’s been a remarkable life in music.
I’m not sure the extent to which these experiences influenced Mullane here, but the music on this pulls in many directions, taking inspiration in things like the traditional music of west Kerry, the counterpoint of J.S. Bach, rock music from London and soul music from the West Coast of the United States. He’s assembled a crew of wonderful guest musicians, who, in addition to O’Meara and Broderick, includes Karen Hickey (fiddle), Niamh Farrell (vocals), Michael Shimmin (percussion), Zoe Conway (violin and strings), Colin Farrell (fiddle), Emma McPhilemy (saxophone), and Eve Mullane (vocals), all of whom contribute in fundamental and noteworthy ways.
The album starts with a flash. “7” is a literal blast of tunes. Were it not for the percussion at the beginning, one might think this is virtuosic but narrowly conceived trad music. That would be an incorrect assumption. When the tune changes, so does the arrangement, which expands substantially. Background harmonies give way to a series of rhythm hits like something off a Franz Ferdinand track. As the track draws toward the end, after more rhythmic shifts, a saxophone floats over a groove that briefly calls to mind the slide guitar at the end of “Layla.” It’s an outstanding track.
But this album is littered with moments that veer on the familiar. Perhaps it’s because you might know the tune? Well, listen again. Each of these seemingly pedestrian moments is redeemed from tedium in different ways. Sometimes, as in “A” and “Sligo Jigs,” it’s by Mullane’s stunning virtuosity. His playing, although tremendously precise, breathes freely and never feels constricted. And occasionally it’s not simply his melody playing, it’s also his left hand accompaniment, which is outrageously inventive.
Other times, it’s the arrangement. O’Meara and Broderick have a very sophisticated rapport and do amazing things for the album’s overall sound. Take “Damo’s Slip Jigs” and “Golden Brown.” The former is a track that, like “7,” teeters on the familiar but for me it’s the accompaniment that drives the arrangement and imbues it with a distinctive and very cool flavor. The latter, borrowing its title and its introduction from the Stranglers song, has a similar character. Here, the rhythm section’s contribution, especially that of Shimmin's, gives it serious life. Conway’s fiddle playing is an exceptionally good addition as well.
“The King of Trad” brings these directions together. Mullane’s playing is superb here, but the arrangement is equally sophisticated and well manicured. A total standout. (I would be remiss if I didn’t mention “In Memory of Gerry Finneran,” a lovely tune on this track that Mullane wrote in tribute to a Leitrim man with relations living in Sunnyside, among other places.)
And then, it’s because Mullane is doing something that’s just different. “Badinerie” is a showpiece composed by J.S. Bach and Mullane makes a show of it. Then, in a complete stylistic departure, the album closes with a cover of the Bill Withers song "If I Didn't Mean You Well.” It’s a strange but inspired choice that a listener wouldn’t expect. Niamh Farrell does an outstanding job with the song and she sings over an arrangement that sounds as if it would have been at home on, well, a Bill Withers record.
“Evoke” is not an album that is going to suit the curmudgeon. Mullane is a brilliant traditional musician and his technique and harmonic sensibility have few peers – he plays fast, hard and with boundless creativity. But he stands firmly in traditional music’s avant garde. Stylistically, his music reminds me off that from groups like the ollam, Notify, Síomha, and maybe even the Seamus Egan Project , all of whom are grounded in but aren’t limited by the peer pressure of “tradition.” (Incidentally, it mightn’t be such a surprise to learn that O’Meara and Shimmin are members of the ollam.) Ultimately, this is a great album – very enjoyable to listen to and one you should definitely check out. “Evoke” can be had by visiting Mullane’s bandcamp page here.
