The eMusic Dozen: The New Sound of Scotland

Lauded as a "Britfolk supergroup" by the UK's fRoots magazine, Lau were the deserved winners of the "Best Group" title at the 2008 BBC Folk Awards. Although their accordion player/keyboardist Martin Green is English, the vibe of their refreshingly uncategorizable music is most definitely Scottish. That's immediately apparent when guitarist Kris Drever sings, as he does on the traditional arrangements of "Butcher Boy," "Unquiet Grave" and Ewan MacColl's standard "Freeborn Man." They're keen to distance themselves from the jigs-and reels-cliches of Scotland's folk scene, but tracks like "The Jigs" and the last part of "Twa Stewarts" suggest they haven't forgotten their roots before it descends into a gloriously anarchic jazz-inflected hoedown. On the extraordinary "Gallowhill," they seem to be tentatively feeling their way towards a strange and vibrant new folk fusion. The future of Scottish folk is safe in hands like theirs.

"Haar" is a Scots word for fog or sea mist, and this hypnotic album seems to come shrouded in just that. Yorkston's strangely organic, dreamy songs are like the weather -- passing clouds that dapple sunlit landscapes. The Fifeshire-born singer/songwriter has covered traditional songs, but here he sticks mostly to original compositions, which seep slowly into consciousness rather than clouding over the head. The pulsing "B's Jig" is no such thing; Yorkston instead murmurs cryptic, poetic lyrics in a conversational brogue-less voice somewhere between Ray Davies and Nick Drake. He's often lost in lush, surging cello, harp, woodwind, piano and violin. Yorkston transforms Lal Waterson's "Midnight Feast" into something all his own, almost doubling its length. Picking highlights is futile -- the effect is distinctly cumulative.

For those unconvinced by Karine Polwart's venture into singer/songwriter territory in her solo career, Fairest Floo'er will be a pleasant surprise, returning as it does to a rootsier oeuvre, more akin to her work with Malinky and Battlefield Band. With often stark accompaniments of just piano or acoustic guitar, she tackles dour traditional songs, with words like "haem" (home), "tae" (to) and "ain" (own) demanding a much stronger Scots' accent than you'll hear on albums such as Faultines or This Earthly Spell. Effectively the title track, the opening "Dowie Dens Of Yarrow" is a graphic, swashbuckling and bloody tale of class hatred and thwarted love with a Shakespearean toll of casualties. Over an ominously droning shruti box, Polwart describes a Caesarian birth gone wrong in "The Death of Queen Jane", and her version of "The Wife Of Ushers Well" is a fascinating contrast with Alasdair Roberts'. In other words, it's the death ballads that are the killers!

With his wobbly, sometimes slightly off-key tenor, and mostly melancholic songs, Alasdair Roberts isn't an immediately enticing prospect. Recorded live with just voice and acoustic guitar, In The Crook Of My Arm was his first solo album and consists entirely of dark and often strange traditional Scottish and English ballads. But the choice of material sheds light on his subsequent development as a songwriter. All Roberts' trademark elements -- the bleakest black humor ("The False Bride") a strong feel for nature ("The Magpie's Nest") and a compelling story-telling manner ("Lord Gregory") are present in these interpretations. Inhabiting both male and female roles, he sings in his own soft Stirling accent, reinforcing the tragic, ghostly tale of "The Wife Of Usher's Well" with understatement, and keeping you hanging on every word as "Standing In Yon Flow'ry Garden" unfolds in a leisurely, suspenseful way. Less turns out to be more on this slow-growing but charming album.

The remarkably eclectic third album by the artist John Renbourn once called "the best Celtic guitarist in the world." Always outward-looking, McManus reprieves the obsession with Quebecoise folk explored more fully on his 1998 album Porquois Quebec? but casts his net wider. He even dabbles in jazz, with an arrangement of Charlie Mingus' "Goodbye Pork Pie Hat," which naturally features his accompanist Ewen Vernal (double bass) in a starring role. The title is a pun on the Gaelic expression "coel mhor" ("big music"), referring to bagpipes, and "The Lament For The Viscount Of Dundee" emerges from their shimmering drone into a resonant, crystalline meditation before segueing into the steady step of "Dr MacPhail's Reel." McManus' Irish roots show through on the jig set "The King Of The Pipers" and "Sliabh Gheal gCua na Feile", but the following "Kishor's tune" has tablas. There are also Breton tunes, one by Robert Burns and even an ancient Hebrew hymn.

This instrumental Celtic fusion band from the rugged Isle of Skye won't be to everyone's taste -- especially not those who prefer sparse, vocal-based music. Peatbog Faeries make an instrumental, dancefloor-friendly and sometimes rather raucous variant of "acid croft" -- the genre pioneered by the likes of the late Martyn Bennet and Shooglenifty, whose influence they're happy to acknowledge. Driven by the squealing bagpipe and whistles of Peter Morrison and two fiddlers, they often use digital beats and samples. While clearly inspired by Scottish folk, they revel in a wide variety of other styles. "The Folk Police" pounds along to a house beat, while "Captain Coull's Parrot" flirts with an R&B/hip hop vibe. "Namedropper/The Little Cascade toys with funk and disco, "Cameroonian Rant" is full-blown dub reggae, and "Get Your Frets Off" has a drum & bass undertow. It's a relief when the laid-back, almost ambient vibe of the title track kicks in. Nothing if not eclectic.

"Dual" means "to interlace" in both Scottish and Irish Gaelic, and this album does exactly that, with plenty of verve. Over a varied selection of traditional all-Gaelic songs and sprightly tunes, singers Fowlis (from North Uist) and Nic Amhlaoibh (West Kerry) highlight the common threads between their musical cultures. Both are handy multi-instrumentalists (flute, whistle, keyboards, pipes), and they're assisted by Martin (guitar, backing vocals) and Doorley (bouzouki, fiddle, backing vocals). The shared set starting with "Tha'm buntata mir…" shows their contrasting voices best, as does "A Rogain Uasail," which uses the well known melody of "Mo Ghile Mear." Out of several solo spots, Nic Amhlaoibh's slightly deeper tone bags the most ravishing melody with the love song "Pe in Eirinn I." And Fowlis's sister Michelle joins her on "Alasdair Mhic Cholla Ghasda," a rhythmic "waulking song" traditionally sung by women while making tweed.

Having started making albums in the '70s, this mercurial Fife-born singer/songwriter isn't "new," and it's mainly his songs' strong sense of place that justifies the "folk" tag. Even so, his independent approach and ageless eccentricity mark him as an honorary member of the emergent post-millennial Scottish folk scene -- even if he now lives in England. This enigmatically titled set isn't even the best in his prodigious back catalogue, but it includes the cinematic classic "Another Man's Rain," a rolling, country-flavored piece cut from the same cloth as "Single Father." It also features America alt-country maverick Johnny Dowd, who croaks alongside Leven's endearingly hammy vocals on "One man, One Guitar" and recites poetry on "The Skaters." A jocular cover of Geoff Mack's "I've Been Everywhere" underlines Leven's popularity in Germany, and there's more deadpan humor in "Here Come The Urban Ravens." Elsewhere, blues licks and strange wintry imagery predominate.

It may seem like two fer the price o' one is too much of a good thing, but these albums could be considered siblings. Recorded with much the same group, they confirm McCusker's talent not only as a band leader and multi-instrumentalist, but as a songwriter, too. Although both have traditional tunes, more than three quarters are original (though you'd be hard pressed to spot "Leaving Friday Harbour", "Shetland Molecule" and "Sailing Through" as such). Yella Hoose is the stronger recording, mainly for having more memorable tunes, including some shamelessly sentimental ballads. Kate Rusby provides the only vocals, and it's tempting to speculate that the earlier "Night Visiting Song" in some way mirrors their relationship; married in 2001, they have since divorced. Ian Carr provides elemental guitar, and Michael McGoldrick's whistle trails McCusker's mellow fiddle when he isn't playing whistle, cittern or piano himself.

Deservedly bagging him the "Horizon Award" (best newcomer) in the 2007 BBC Folk Awards, Black Water is this Orcadian singer and guitarist's astonishingly assured debut. He's since won acclaim as one third of Lau and as part of a trio with Roddy Woomble and John McCusker, whose spare, uncluttered production and wonderfully measured fiddling are also a key to this album's success. Confidently updated traditional songs such as "Fause Fause," "Patrick Spence" and an especially fine "Green Grows The Laurel" sit well alongside those of contemporary writers, in particular Edinburgh's Sandy Wright. Drever's "Steel and Stone" and "Beads And Feathers" suit his rather nasal but warm tenor brogue down to the ground. Along with the driving "Harvest Gypsies," the instrumental set "Honk Toot" raises the generally relaxed tempo, and best showcases Drever's fretwork wizardry. And there's a stunning lullaby-like reinvention of The Pogues' classic "Navigator." Scotland's finest singer? You decide.