Under a Willow Tree is a re-release and remaster, but Swainn isn’t attempting to cash in on past glories or marking time instead of releasing something new. Any artist reserves the right to revisit past work they feel is lacking and add those final touches that realize their ambitions. A new addition to the band’s lineup, bass player Rob MacIntosh, puts down new basslines for Under a Willow Tree’s songs, and the band touched up other numbers. The instrumental adjustments never change the fundamental value of the material, but they certainly supply a new spin on Swainn’s songs and a different yet equally addictive energy.
Energy is one of the band’s hallmarks. They score by every metric in delivering full-throttle Celtic music with an attitude many associate with such acts as Flogging Molly and The Pogues, to name a couple. Swainn may hail from Arizona rather than Belfast or Dublin but wears the style as naturally as breathing. Songs such as the album opener “Voices” prove more than mimicry.
The chorus makes that case. The conscious artistry of beginning your album with a song where the chorus urges listeners to “abandon all hope who enter here” is a small touch. However, accumulate eleven songs full of similar small touches and, soon enough, you have evidence of a distinctive style. “Voices” casts its lot with the outsider, the feckless, and the cavalier and makes no apologies. It’s a song embodied by a damn the torpedoes attitude that the band revisits over Under a Willow Tree’s duration.
“Bag o’ Bones” leans deeper into the band’s Celtic music influences than the opener. It percolates with the same wild energy, albeit unfolding differently for listeners, and Swainn’s focus centers on delivering a memorable chorus. The refrain for “Bag o’ Bones” is one of Under a Willow Moon’s most memorable. It isn’t a band that’s all fire and bluster. Songs such as the fifth cut, “Home”, are tasteful gear changers that tighten the listener’s focus on Swainn’s melodic skills. Mandy Lubking’s swirling fiddle lines will be the heart of this song for many. This is far from a one-dimensional act, but they know when to pick their spots.
The stripped-down charge lighting up “Let’s Get Loose” will play well live. It’s a near-perfect example of a no-frills Celt raver tailored to bring any audience to their feet. Swainn’s presentation is unabashed. Songs like “Let’s Get Loose” are gut-level musical experiences that never shoot over the listener’s head. “Sink or Float” has anthemic potential. Even a single listen to the track supplies proof that the band realizes what they have with this tune and sharpens their attention accordingly. It’s a rousing and assertive centerpiece cut on an already outstanding release.
“Fairwinds” is another of the album’s most memorable songs. Perhaps there should be, but there’s nothing incongruous about hearing this band born out of the Arizona desert utilizing seafarin’ imagery from another place, a different time. The crafty songwriting for tracks such as “Fairwinds” is smarter than it purports, and attentive listeners will hear scores of reasons to love or otherwise enjoy this band. “Another Drinking Song” closes Under a Willow Tree with an added flash of the aforementioned craftiness. Unexpected self-deprecation, never overstated, paired with another all-out band arrangement that helps close this remastered collection with a flourish. Swainn’s strong musical identity comes across at every point during this eleven-song outing.
Garth Thomas