Fergus McCreadie: The Shieling: Companion Pieces

Any hiker knows that walking the main trail is—pardon the mixed metaphor—barely the tip of the iceberg. (Or perhaps scratching the surface? Is that better?) Regardless, the more fascinating and picturesque the journey, the more it merits repeat visits to find variations on whatever side trails and shortcuts there are to discover. And so, after taking us on their most rich folky excursion to date with The Shieling (Edition, 2025), it seems that Fergus McCreadie and friends had still not shown us nearly everything their beloved Scottish landscape has to offer. Little surprise that such a fruitful session had another share of ideas that could not all fit on the album proper.

Whatever you might call their blend of snappy jazz and woodsy folk, its organic growth is always something beautiful to behold. Like its predecessor, Companion Pieces is built with plenty of virtuosity and smarts, which do not feel the least bit weighty when the experience is so irresistibly charming. "Ford the River" roils like some quick-churning waves while the band skips along quickly enough to barely get their feet wet. The original Shieling's meditative break of "Windshelter" gets another spin with a quicker spring in its step and an extended skip off into the sunset.

McCreadie's mind remains endlessly adept at spinning these snapshots of nature into something warm and vibrant, especially boosted by the reassuring feeling of exploring with trusty friends confident in their long history. This sharp and snappy trio offers the equivalent of beating a sunny new path while not forgetting to stop and watch the hummingbirds. This quick excursion may feel over too soon, but the best journeys always deserve many happy returns and manage to keep feeling different every time.