Breabach mines deep roots for its piper-driven sound

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      The members of Breabach spent a recent day off in a cemetery, and not because they’re closet goths. Instead, they’re all keen students of history, and the graveyard in Woodville, Ontario, holds a particular pull for one of the Scottish quintet’s number.

      According to bassist James Lindsay, piper Calum MacCrimmon is the group’s resident Canadian, and he can trace his ancestry back to dispossessed crofters from Skye who settled north of Toronto during the 1800s.

      “Yesterday we actually took a trip up to Woodville, which was really exciting for us,” Lindsay explains on the line from Toronto, where Breabach is starting the North American tour that will bring it to the Vancouver Folk Music Festival this weekend. “We went out to the graveyard, just looking at all the Scottish names and all the places that people had come from. It was quite a great experience.”

      Those who know anything about Scottish music have probably already deduced that MacCrimmon has another historical connection: he can claim descent from the legendary piper celebrated in the 18th-century piobaireachd “MacCrimmon Will Never Return”.

      “He’s second in line to be the hereditary piper for the MacCrimmons, and that serious piping heritage definitely influences our music,” Lindsay says. “We draw on the piping heritage, as well as on Gaelic heritage through the songs and stories. And also we connect with some more contemporary stuff, like the Scottish fiddle tradition, which isn’t quite as old as the Gaelic and the piping, but it all adds to our sound.”

      That sound is simultaneously fierce and sophisticated: the band boasts not one but two pipers, with James Duncan Mackenzie being the other, and it travels with its own sound engineer to ensure that the mix never gets cluttered. With Lindsay providing the low end on upright bass, Breabach can also get almost jazzy at times, without losing sight of the roots embodied in the title of its latest release, Ùrlar.

      Ùrlar translates from Gaelic as ‘ground’ or ‘foundation’,” the bassist explains, adding that the term provided a loose framework for a collection of songs and tunes from all over Scotland. Particularly poignant is “The Seven Men of Knoydart”, which suggests that the Highland Clearances didn’t stop with the departure of the MacCrimmons.

      “That song refers to the estate of Knoydart, which is on the west coast,” says Lindsay. “It’s a really strong, close-knit community, but during World War II the estate was kind of run to ruin by Lord Brockett, the laird. It was turned into a rich boy’s playground, really, and upon returning from the war, the men from Knoydart found their farming lands gone to ruin. So they made a claim to the land, and tried to take it back and give it back to the community. They were voted out in court, but it did spark a movement to reclaim the land—and you can see the effect in places like the Isle of Eigg, a great example of the community buying the land and working it for the people that live there.”

      Making the song especially poignant is the fact that fiddler Megan Henderson’s great-grandfather was one of the seven men. This is a band with real roots—some buried six feet under and others very much alive.

      Breabach plays the Vancouver Folk Music Festival’s Stage 2 on Saturday (July 18).

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