A feature of the early seventies was folk music suddenly becoming cutting edge, shifting heavily into folk-rock-fusion territory and cross fertilising a few tropes. This was a delayed repercussion, of Bob Dylan going electric ten years previously. A European pioneer of this fusion was Alan Stivell. Who had almost single handedly salvaged Breton folk music and introduced us to the romanticism of the Celtic Harp and the Breton Pipes. And having done all that hurled them both into the centre of progressive rock music. He moved from folk purist to folk rock star, then later on, to world and new age music. You get the feeling Alan Stivell is one of life's explorers, a musical enthusiast and boundary crosser, always able to respond positively to the possibilities of fresh musical terrain.
This live album, in folk rock circles has become something of a revered classic. It captures the feeling, the stirring spiritual power of what, in his prime, Stivell could achieve. Because he is also in possession of a lyrically beautiful voice, with solid wide range and a unique sensitivity. Give him an old Breton folk song and he'll bewitch you with its simple uncut beauty. This is 1975, so Stivell has long dark hair and a beard, in his early thirties, and is a handsome man. You can hear as he performs an almost messianic magnetism, a magical charm that entrances through the music.
Many decades later, I cannot recall quite how I first came across this album. His was certainly a name frequently mentioned in the music papers of the time. Most likely my buying of this album was the result of one of my 'take a gamble' trips. A strategy I increasingly used during the seventies and eighties. I'd go down to the local record store or HMV and collect a handful of records, tapes, or later CD's I'd never heard of before, but caught my interest, and buy them just on the off chance they might be good. I discovered all sorts of brilliant stuff this way.
These days you can just cruise Spotify or You Tube if you want to know what a group or singer sounds like, and don't have to commit to purchasing at all. The algorithm guides you towards stuff it thinks you might like. But there was something a bit more random and likely to challenge your personal tastes about what I used to do. Yes, it was wasteful on finances and resources, because not everything I bought as 'a gamble' I found interesting. Other things I slowly grew to love. Those duff purchases, when I lived in London, went straight down to the record and tape exchange in Camden.
Live in Dublin, still packs a punch today, and doesn't feel that dated either. Over the years I've re-purchased it in different playing formats, which I guess is as good an indication as any, just how much I still love and value it.
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