As I finally get around to reviewing this album it comes with with a sense of sadness owing the sudden passing of guitarist Brian McFie, a beautiful soul who has left an indelible mark on both the Scottish music scene and on the hearts of everyone who had the fortune of knowing him. Only a short time before his untimely passing I had the good fortune to witness his heartfelt playing with Fay Fife’s Countess of Fife guise alongside bandmates Kirsten, Al and Willy and Fay’s unrivalled vocals they created a glorious celebratory sound in Glasgow’s intimate Southside venue The Glad Cafe at the second of their two gigs to celebrate the release of this album. The gig will remain in my mind as a fitting tribute to a one off gent.
Rather than get melancholy though, we should celebrate the life of this larger than life character, accomplished artist and much sought after guitarist who was part of the gang who recorded this magnificent second album from The Countess of Fife, another string to his bow on a burgeoning CV.
Many of the songs on this album feel like old friends, having had the pleasure of seeing and hearing them played live or listened to them in various formats as Fay and her elite galère sought to create the holy grail and the definitive final mixes for the album. To take the friends analogy a step further, these aren’t the flighty casual acquaintances that you can take or leave, they’re the ones you never tire of welcoming and even if you’ve not seen them for some time they fill you with a great feeling of wellbeing as soon as they appear, with an immediate positive impact on your mood.
The album kicks off with a hint of melancholy in the opening lines of the title track, before it opens up into an emphatic go-getter of a song, with Fay’s lyrics revealing the hope of a new start and a bright future. Big Sister, Little Sis explodes into life with a burst of surging resonant alt-country guitar before Fay shares her assertions and advice on life lessons learned atop a feisty toe-tapping arrangement before the defiance of Call Me the Witch pays homage to the persecuted witches of Fife with lyrics taking back control of the narrative and celebrating their lives, with a powerfully assertive vocal from Fay. The addition of strings and an atmospheric close gives an added layer of interest.
The gentle twang of vibrato guitars ushers in one of my favourites from the Countess catalogue, a song which has developed over time, having seen it played live in the past as Kiss the Rain, it finally finds its place as the moving Live Again. Understated in its ardency, the chiming guitar lines sing with a serene emotion, matched by Fay’s affecting vocals. There is a tender poignancy to the lyrics and the way in which they are delivered, felt all the more acutely as I listen now given recent circumstances. Another of these tender-hearted touching songs comes with the soaring harmonies, hushed keyboard lines and the soothing twang of the guitars of Sweet Beneath the Wishing Tree, add to that the subtle mellifluous bass and gently brushed drums and you have another stirring song packed with fervent emotion.
Sandwiched between these two songs is another that blindsides you in the shape of Who Stole the World. On the face of it, it feels like it has an air of celebratory optimism, but on closer inspection there is a darker heart to the song with an unfettered defiance within the powerfully reflective lyrics. Another track laced with a gentle defiance is the disarming grace of Where the River Meets the Sea, its lovingly crafted rhythm and harmonies delivering a sensitively uplifting message of love and hope.
Take Me to the Grave changes the mood with its playful dual vocal interplay between Fay and Kirsten, and an addictively rootsy melody that channels the spirit of classic bluegrass country songs like the traditional Will the Circle Be Unbroken. Hard Woman to Love follows with Fay in stellar contemplative storytelling mode, carefully constructed lyrics telling a tale of a spiritedly uncompromising, strong and forthright woman, with the band in vibrant form richly golden guitars, fiddle and all. The album closer Worn Out and Unloved has a sense of bluesy cabaret to it, deeply resonating as guitars soundtracking a do-or-die tenacity in Fay’s determined vocal which has a wry humour to it as she fades to what you think is a close before the band plays out with a moody smoky blues bar outro.
Another heartwarming moving album from the Countess in what is proving to be a busy year with a new Rezillos album coming later in the year.