Don’t get your kilt in a twist if you can’t understand what Scottish folk singer Julie Fowlis is going on about. Even on William Wallace’s heathered home turf, only 1 percent of the population (about 60,000 souls) still grasp Scottish Gaelic, the ancient Celtic language Fowlis grew up speaking in North Uist, an island in the remote Hebrides archipelago off Scotland’s west coast. It wasn’t until 2005 that the country’s Anglo-leaning ruling class recognized it as an official Scottish language and not a prickly burr in its side.
The world outside rugged, windswept North Uist is recognizing the tongue big time now. In the wake of snaring major folk prizes in the UK, Fowlis has emerged as the first Scottish Gaelic crossover artist in a genre long dominated by Irish and British musicians. The most obvious reason is her pristine, nimble voice, a double-malt blend of Natalie Merchant’s pure tones and Savina Yannatou’s vocal acrobatics. The latter spring into action when she performs Hebridean “mouth music”— nonsensical ditties about things like old men who love potatoes. But it’s the salvaged traditional tales of star-crossed lovers, double-crossed landowners and shipwrecks—passed along over centuries, in some cases by generation after generation—that also make Fowlis’s spry sophomore album, Cuilidh (“secret treasury”), something more significant than just another pub reel.
Fowlis, who started out with the female quintet Dòchas, is also a versatile whistle and pipes player. Along with her husband, Irish bouzouki player Eamon Doorley, she fronts a musical-chairs all-star acoustic lineup that’s previously included Celtic-music studs like Highland fiddler Duncan Chisholm and Irish guitarist Tony Byrne. We’re not sure who’ll be in tow on this tour, but we’re hoping they join in Fowlis’s Scottish Gaelic take on the Beatles’ “Blackbird”—which actually may soar over the original.
By: Craig Keller
10/02/08 >> 
