Shovel Dance Collective

Steeped in the drape and drama of traditional English, Irish, and Scottish folk, the works of sprawling outfit Shovel Dance Collective bridge the divide between the town square and the concert hall. The band’s second album adds a depth of studio sheen to their works, layering vocals and capturing the nuance of the nine-piece collective’s musicianship. What could easily lapse into simple folk revival pushes the boundaries of tradition, much like their American counterparts picking apart the expectations of bluegrass. Like The Black Twig Pickers, Magic Tuber Stringband, or Nathan Bowles, the band springs off of the expectations of the past and into discordant moments that balance their pastoral reverie.

It’s this balance that pushes the album past simple folklore and into something revelatory. The collective churns like a calliope, a cascade of colors that wave like flags in motion on the upbeat moments here, especially the centerpiece tapestry “Kissing’s Nae Sin / Newcastle / Portsmouth (Come, Come, My Brave Boys).” Moments later, though, the tone is drained to desperate on “Four Loom Weaver” a vocal exploration that balances voice with subtle field recordings of traffic, turning the trappings of urban air into a funereal lament. The instrumentals soar in the sun, blossom and bloom with life, while the vocal pieces hide a darker tone and a wounded aura that leaves its mark on the listener long after the last notes have faded.

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