Bróna McVittie - The Man in the Mountain (2020)

We often associate the harp with a kind of fey prettiness, as if its sound is the musical equivalent of filigree or lacework. As an object, a harp is a kind of signifier, conjuring up ambrosial imagery, femininity, a kind of classical purity. Bróna McVittie’s music can encapsulate all of these things. It can be pretty and delicate. She is capable of soothing passages, of notes that sound like falling water and pastoral dreams. But that is only half the story. McVittie is an avid experimentalist, willing to augment folky arrangements with passages of ultra-modern electronica, and able to jump from harp to guitar and back on a whim. She is a writer, a composer, and a producer. She is also a great collaborator, already well known for her work with The London Lasses and is highly attuned to the ways in which a wide range of musicians can contribute to her singular artistic vision.

McVittie draws influence from country as well as folk music – she has spoken about her admiration for Dolly Parton – and Cochran’s steel guitar becomes one of the album’s calling cards, appearing on nine of its ten tracks. On the sweetly melodic Falling For Icarus, it stays mostly in the background, rubbing shoulders with the subtle, plinking electronics provided by experimental duo Isan (Anthony Ryan and Robin Saville). There are times when it resembles the folktronica of Beth Orton, but McVittie’s scope is greater, and she seems to be more in tune with the rhythms of the natural world. She is also more literary in her approach – various song titles make reference to Neruda, Wordsworth and Sassoon.