This prolific artist is definitely on a roll, having released two whopping works last year which made my day, as Colin is one of ‘my untouchables’ having been seduced back in the days of the Morrigan. Proud to state that I have ALL his releases and fully intend to follow his ongoing intentions. He is one of those few clear-minded musicians who creates what he wants and feels, often spontaneous conceptions that seem to come endlessly like an underground aquafer spewing the liquid of life. Colin handles all the sounds, relying wholly on the music that plays in his mind, though it must be stated for the record, that his guitar playing, both acoustic and electric is off the charts. The cover art is always entrancing and magical as if formulated by a desire for fantasy and bucolic sentiment intertwined.
“The Sun Will Rise in A Pool of Fire” ignites the fervour that surely will burn bright until reaching the very end of this near hour-long ride. Incorporating a succession of electronic effects is something of a new tactic, Colin exhorting vocally the awakening of a new Day and all its imminent adventures, chaperoned with stinging guitar parts that lean closer to a market scene in Mumbai than Salisbury Plain’s verdant fields. The atmosphere does pick up pace as it gradually shits into a pre-medieval state of mind, shimmering along a bucolic path that may lead to Stonehenge and Avebury, where the druids once held court. The lead guitar flurry exudes the powerful majesty that makes on close their eyes and dream.
Slotting the 13 minute+ epic “Fallen Eagle” is quite the daring enterprise for some , but in the hands of such an experienced artist, the organic ease of restraint and focus become immediately apparent. Stately, cinematographic, and keeping the fine line between the technically complex structure and the melodic simplicity is a talent in itself, expertly wielding the acoustic guitars with unparalleled mastery, electronic whispers swerving in the skies above. Intricate fretboard explorations collide with unannounced pied-piper recorders, echoing pipe organ blasts and hovering clouds of experimental cannonades. The inserted choir work is Carmina Burana-like, resonating off the cathedral walls like a thousand local tales, while the screeching leads coil like fiery serpents. The eagle has landed. Modern classical music composition master seminar, this.
The acoustic reverie on “Falls of Avich” underlines the impeccable control as the fingers do the talking on the guitar, the resonance unwaveringly attractive and haunting, as Masson joins his fellow Brits Gordon Giltrap and Ant Phillips as masters of the style. The second section introduces that unique electric tone in pure Celtic mode, in a sound that is more like Roman trumpeters greeting a returning centurion. Heart stopping beautiful.
Metallic keyboards greet the ears on “The Hollow Mountain”, an arduous climb up to elevated ridges (perhaps Hergest), yet still faraway from any summit, as the pace quickens ,the perspiration now abundant. The effort finally rewards with a pause on some plateau overlooking the valley below. The piton guitars are challenged by blowing gales of synthesized squalls.
Being quite handy with my geography, “Innis Chonnel” is a famous 13th century castle in ruins on a small island in Loch Awe, Scotland , which of course explains the title of the album. This once impregnable fortress belonged to the Clan Campbell. Historically, we are flung back into the 1300s , time when Robert the Bruce made a name for himself, and as such, the music is redolent of feudal imagery, grand sweeps that recall the massive stone walls and the battles that eventually led it to become a prison. The neo-classical orchestral feel only adds colossal shape to all the dramatics.
A clever reciting of the traditional Scottish fairy tale Tam Lin, “Tamlinn” is a classic bedtime story in musical form, a burly bass guitar shepherding the insistent fiddles and the organ ripping into the arrangement, completely unrepentant. Yet when Colin decides to let a solo rip on his trusted guitar, the sonic exhibition is beyond jaw-dropping.
Essentially a vocal troubadour styled piece that could straddle the span of time yet cleverly focused on the current world of unashamed misery, “Strange Old World” is playful musically but acerbic lyrically, ‘a world of broken dreams and promises’, led by arguably some of the worst set of politicians in recorded history, and way too many keeping low key in quiet apathy. A moment of well-needed reflection.
Often title tracks highlight or encompass the overall gist of the any album, and here is no exception to the rule, as Colin effortlessly glides on the acoustic guitar in a classic middle-ages style that fits him like a glove. In fact, upon first audition, it may come across as a traditional piece written in 1492 (maybe it is…who cares, really). The second half is characteristic Colin Masson music, with intrepid, imaginative, impressionistic flurries of Celtic-flavoured bravado, making his guitar sing like a million Gaels sitting in a circle around a moonlit bonfire.
I have rated every single Masson album, from 2004’s Isle of Eight , and the following five with perfect scores , which is my right and privilege. So this one , his 7th release, gets another hands down/no contest 5 asteroid rating.
PS. I would be totally unsurprised if he has another album up his sleeve soon.