Nesta

This is an album with some great intros. Rather like the slow, inquisitive alaaps that introduce a raga in Indian music – the exploratory parts before the rhythm truly kicks in – Summers’ tracks will often begin with just the Highland fiddler on her own, or accompanied by just one of her band. In this manner, the album gets off to a promisingly acidic start, with droning violin lines played ponticello – near the bridge – for a sour, turpentine-thin effect. It conjures up ancient frosty evenings, and the back-up sounds suitably wintry and elemental. However, the wind changes far too quickly: in comes the neat and tidy percussion – far too businesslike to be funky – and some unassertive plinks of guitar that are too easy on the ear. On ‘Guddlin in the Barn, it’s the same story: a delicately plucked guitar riff that sounds, intriguingly, almost South African in its rhythm and timbre, dances a charming duet with Summers’ fiddle. But, again, it’s only a matter of seconds before bass and guitar pick up the pace and a string of rather lacklustre musical blandishments fill in all the space.

Summers is clearly a violinist and arranger of skill. A brace of solo and stripped-down tracks, including some slower airs, make the album’s last third its most satisfying. There are moments of melancholy, effervescence and surliness, with Hardanger fiddle and Jew’s harp used to create some unusual textures. It’s just a shame that the most interesting parts of this album tend to lie in the margins and footnotes.