Tannahill Weavers fans know enough to expect Roy Gullane's voice to lead the way on every album. With one exception -- Passage. Oh, Gullane's still there, and his voice is as strong and expressive as ever. But this album came during Canadian singer and multi-instrumentalist Bill Bourne's three-year stint with the band, and Bourne shares vocal duties with Gullane. Consquently, Passage is in some ways very different than the rest of the band's discography.

Any fan of Scotland's famous Tannies will recognize the band's trademark sound. Instrumentally, even this early in their career, they're tight. The tunes are handled by Gullane (acoustic guitars, tenor banjo, mandolin), Bourne (bouzouki, acoustic and electric guitars, fiddle, keyboards, bass pedals), Phil Smillie (flute, whistle, bodhran, keyboards) and Alan MacLeod (bagpipes, mandolin, whistle, bodhran), and they rip through some dazzling sets with ease. The Tannies, on this album, mixed bagpipes and electric guitar back before it was fashionable, and they set a standard that remains hard to beat. Zan MacLeod also adds some electric and bass guitars to a few tracks.

The album begins with a set of two pipe reels; the second is "Roddie MacDonald's Favourite," but the band didn't know the name of the first, which they learned while visiting Mick Moloney and family in Philadelphia. With trademark wit, they dubbed the tune "The Goose That Stood on My Mother's Bottom Lip to Hang the Curtains on St. Patrick's Day." Somehow, I doubt the name will catch on. Anyway, the tune rocks.

Other tune sets are "Duntroon/Trip to Alaska" and "Phuktiphanno/John MacKenzie's Fancy." Both sets attack the music at a frenzied pace, guaranteeing a faster heart rate just by listening.

Gullane is the Tannies' voice and always will be. He makes his presence known first with a forceful take on "Jamie Raeburn's Farewell," a song of forced emigration -- the song is backed uncharacteristically but effectively by Bourne's electric guitar. "The Highland Laddie" is a typically sad Scottish love song, while "Lady Dysie" is a lively (but sad) Scottish love song. (The Scots don't write a lot of happy love songs.)

"At the End of a Pointed Gun" is a particularly powerful track, sung from the perspective of a father of one of the Israeli athletes killed by Palestinian terrorists at the 1972 Olympic Games in Munich, and Gullane gives passionate service to the lyrics by Canadian songwriter Grit Laskin. Nationalities don't matter in this song; it's a heart-tearing song about pointless hatred and a father's grief.

Bourne's bluesy voice is perfect for mournful songs like Stan Rogers' moving "Harris and the Mare" and his own parting-glass song, "Drink a Round." He also does a knockout rendition of Gordon Lightfoot's "Marie Christine," a lost-ship song coupled here with the electrified "Coach House Reel." It's a great track, if atypical Tannies.

The Tannahill Weavers have been around a long time on the merits of the band's distinctive sound. Passage is the odd one out, an unusual recording for the traditionally minded band and, yet, still showing their undeniable skills at the craft. It's nice to see the band stretch in a new way, even though the Tannies and Bourne soon separated to pursue different directions in music. (Bourne and piper MacLeod later would record together, too.) It's definitely a strong album and one worth checking out.

[ by Tom Knapp ]
Rambles: 14 September 2002