Hireth

A few accordion notes conjure the scene. Noir. Tanya Brittain makes her entrance: a wronged woman, bent on revenge. ‘Don’t underestimate what I can do for you,’ she sings with cold passion. ‘I can kill you with a word.’ We’re a few seconds into the opening track, ‘Just Go Quietly’, and already in the grip of a powerful chanteuse – one with a sharp pen. It’s no surprise that Brittain, as well as albums with Cornish duo The Changing Room, has published stories and poems. Hireth, though, is her first solo album, her own songs mostly, including a couple in Kernewek, the Cornish language from which she takes the title.

There is sophistication to her writing. In ‘Father Forgive Me’ a girl appeals, but doesn’t beg. The father raised her to be ‘strong and thoughtful.’ She is strong – strong enough to tell him ‘You are the one in the wrong.’ Hireth is usually translated (inadequately) as a longing for home. Tanya Brittain’s songs are steeped in hireth, but listening to these stories, their melodies, arrangements (hats off to accordionist Alan Pengelly) and the emotional depth of her performance, a word from another language springs to mind – duende.