BRIAN FINNEGAN – THE SINGING TREE ***
GLASGOW ROYAL CONCERT HALLMOONLIGHTING from his more famous group, Flook, Brian Finnegan has a solo venture, The Singing Tree, which takes a look at the social and cultural changes taking
place in his native Northern Ireland. It's an ambitious project featuring 13 musicians, dancers and poets, but the material is so close to the flute/whistle player's heart that it was hard to shake the feeling this was conception put together with Finnegan's personal feelings – and not the audience's enjoyment – at the forefront of his mind.
Poet Paul Bradley began and ended the affair with two penetrative and devout poetic observations, and Sibeal Davitt punctuated the evening at various points with some appropriate, if not entirely visible, Irish dancing. Also breaking up the many reels, Dungiven's Cara Dillon and banjo player Damien O'Kane's soulful duet, The Streets of Derry, brought about the night's most poignant moment.
But what about the main man, Finnegan? As he does in Flook, the lad from Armagh tended to remain inconspicuous, nestled on a chair at the side of the stage. It would have been nice to see him in the limelight more often though, certainly for his ode to his grandmother, which showed a side of him rarely seen before.
This bold, daring, close-to-the-heart adventure wasn't the most gripping concert at this year's Celtic Connections, but it certainly goes down as one of the most heartfelt.
KD LANG ****
GLASGOW ROYAL CONCERT HALLHINTING at (but never actually betraying) first-night nerves, kd lang kicked off her latest world tour in Glasgow on impeccable form. The captivating Canadian crooner is the biggest draw at this year's Celtic Connections, but she is never one to play up her star status, preferring to establish her usual gracious, charming and rather flirtatious rapport with the audience who, completely smitten, randomly offered up Art Garfunkel anecdotes and propositions involving a haggis.
The immaculately delivered set was heavily weighted towards her brand new album, Watershed, encompassing the classic love sentiments of I Dream of Spring, the mellow bliss of Sunday with its flurry of electro-jazz keyboards, and the Joni Mitchell-esque "self-examining, existential lullaby" Shadow and the Frame.
But it wasn't all brooding, aching and pondering the vagaries of life and love. Lang revelled in the comedy as much as the drama of her performance, and could not suppress a fit of laughter during Smoke Rings, a twanging old-school country gem from her Drag album of smoking songs.
Lang always appears perfectly matched to her material, so convincing is her interpretation of everything she touches. But kudos must also have got to her very cool band, who supplied heavenly backing vocals throughout, and unleashed a sensitively tweaked rendition of her biggest hit, Constant Craving, which started out like some urbane Joe Jackson number from the early 1980s before building up into a beautifully burnished arrangement.
They gathered close round their hostess for the playful bluegrass encore of Pay Dirt. Lang broke out into a gleeful barefoot shuffle, then slung on a banjo herself for another old-time new track, Jealous Dog. Perfectly pitched, wonderfully nuanced and exquisitely interpreted, this performance was a pleasure to partake of.
