|
Sharon Shannon’s latest is an album that cries out for a whole new kind of warning label: “Caution: contents may cause cardiac arrest in Irish traditional music purists.” Libertango (Compass) is as lovely and lively as any of her releases since her 1991 eponymous debut, but the “liberty” hinted at in the title is immediately apparent as the tracks breeze by: a waltz here, a Fleetwood Mac cover there, even what may be a first: a hip-hop tune that bounces along to the sweet whistle of a button accordion.
If the album is somewhat of a surprise to some, it shouldn’t be to those who have followed Shannon’s unique trajectory through Irish music. Born and raised in County Clare, Shannon said she was raised by parents who were “mad for music” and encouraged their children to pick up instruments. Shannon recalled playing to get her parents dancing and at 12 years old, the dimpled cute-as-a-button accordionist was playing at local ceilidh dances.
As she hit 20, Shannon was earning a living as a musician in Doolin, a scant string of buildings that passes as a village in western Ireland, but which has a reputation for great music sessions in its pubs. One of the few female instrumentalists, Shannon met the members of the Irish rockers the Waterboys and was eventually asked to first record and then tour with the band.
Though she had 24 tracks down for what she hoped to be her debut album, she put them on the shelf while she toured the world with “the lads.” For two years, she lived the life a rock star, staying in plush hotels, riding in limos, playing for huge crowds. But more importantly, the experience exposed her to a new world. She played with what was for her new instruments—Hammond organ, electric bass—and heard music from around the world.
When she again turned her attention to her own solo album, only two tunes made it onto the final version. “I had a new and completely different idea of what I wanted the album to sound like the second time around after the experience of playing with the Waterboys,” she said.
The first album didn’t sound revolutionary, but it did include tunes that fell outside the traditional bounds of Celtic music. What was surprising though was that the album became ubiquitous in Ireland, though she snuck on Portuguese, Cajun and French Canadian tunes. Shannon said the legions of Waterboys fans helped propel the album up the charts. But it also got a boost from her two tracks on a compilation of Irish female musicians called A Woman’s Heart. Shannon had the only two instrumental tracks on the album, which sold 500,000 copies, an all-time record for Ireland.
While her subsequent albums were similarly eclectic, Shannon’s albums with the Nashville-based Compass label have seen her truly declare her independence. The Diamond Mountain Sessions saw Shannon team up with an array of vocalists for the first time, including Jackson Browne and Steve Earle.
Over the years, Shannon has toured and recorded with a changing roster of musicians. Her early rhythm section of bassist Trevor Hutchinson and guitarist Donogh Hennessey went on to join Lunasa, a group that certainly is Shannon’s spiritual cousin in its iconoclastic approach to Irish music.
In 2002, Sinead O’Connor asked Shannon to play on her traditional music album Sean-Nos Nua. Shannon also toured with O’Connor, mixing those gigs in with her own work. “It was great to be able to take a back seat and not have the pressure and responsibility of being the leader,” she said. O’Connor then returned the favor, singing the old Scottish ballad “Anachie Gordon” on Libertango. Always a generous bandleader, Shannon said that on the cuts with vocals, she felt like “I’m just part of the band that’s backing the singer up.”
Indeed, the new album has several guest singers, all female. “I just wanted to do something different for a change,” she said. Joining the line-up are singers Pauline Scanlon, who now tours with Shannon and has a solo album on Shannon’s label, Daisy Records; the late, great Kirsty MacColl; and a fellow Galway resident, Roison Elsafty. Elsafty and members of her family join Shannon for a song sung in Egyptian and Irish about the plight of the Palestinians.
The album’s title track has an unusual pedigree: it’s a tune composed by new-tango icon Astor Piazzolla, but which was turned into a song with lyrics for disco-era diva Grace Jones. Even more unlikely is Shannon’s closing track, a rap tune that remixes the album’s opening tune, “The Whitestrand Sling.” The rap song, “What You Make It,” was remixed by Rupert Christie. Shannon said that Christie was a friend of a friend and she gave him several tracks to play with, “just for fun,” with no intention of including them on her album. After Christie came back with the remixed tune, Shannon said she was “absolutely thrilled with it” and decided to delay the release of the album in order to include it. The song, released as a single, then became a radio hit in
Ireland.
The unlikely tune toodles along with Shannon’s button accordion and a rhythm guitar as rapper Marvel tells the story of a night out at a club called the Sliced Butt. Marvel’s rapping is a bit frisky, and includes some typical rap braggadocio but it is pretty much PG-rated and doesn’t have the brash beats of hardcore rap.
Looking back on her musical evolution, Shannon said, “I suppose I am more comfortable in the studio now and this gives me the confidence to try new arrangements, etc. I am probably a lot more interested in the production end of things than I was previously. I certainly play a lot more
fiddle and whistles on recordings these days. I have even tried backing vocals.”
One thing that ties Libertango in with her earlier efforts is Shannon’s sunny playing and predilection for cheerful tunes. Libertango, in fact, might have the largest share of poignant tunes. “I don’t go out and search for these particular kind of [happy] tunes. If I like the melody of a tune, I have a go at it. It might be a happy tune or it might be a sad tune. It just depends on whether I like it or not.”
Asked if she’s gotten flack for her experimentation, Shannon said, “Some purists have done and continue to do so, but I don’t mind. I play what I like. I always have. A piece of Spanish or American music should be as interesting as an Irish piece.”
|