Review Summary: I'll bet that you didn't know that Celtic Progressive Rock was a thing until now...
The last anyone associated with a noteworthy music critique corporation (We’re looking at
you, Rolling Stone and Pitchfork), Celtic rock act Seven Nations was being hailed as the “Dave Matthews Band with bagpipes,” and slowly faded from view of the majority of consumer side of the music industry. Now, it’s important to know that they've come a long way since then, and have regained the depth and quality that they somewhat lost in the early 2000s. However, in the mid and late 90s was when 7N really shined…before anyone knew who they were. Maintaining a strong cult fan-base, 7N was ready to dive into something that they had rarely done in the past: produce an album made largely of original songs rather than cover versions of traditional folk songs. I wouldn't go so far as to say that this transition was for better or for worse for the band, but I sure am glad they did make the decision. The result was
The Factory, possibly some of their best and definitely their most ambitious album to date. Along with the good ol’ traditional Irish fiddle and pipe riffs,
The Factory drew much influence from punk, hard rock, folk, and progressive rock. As a matter of fact,
The Factory does feel like a progressive rock album. And it’s quite a ride.
Three of Seven Nations’ first four albums start out with an extended bagpipe solo.
The Factory is one of them. Now before you cover your ears and prepare for an ear-bleeding pipe fest, I would like to notify you of the fact that the pipers in Seven Nations are very proficient at playing their instrument. It actually sounds
good, perhaps
entertaining even, to hear bagpipes in a 7N song. The bagpipe intro leads into “The Factory Song.” You can feel the satire of the working industry bleed through in this punkish song’s chorus: “Now I lay me down to work/I pray my soul doesn't get there first.” A neat little pipe/fiddle riff permeates the chorus. The loud, rocking “Factory Song” leads into the solemn folk track “This Season.” Kirk McLeod’s voice sounds just right over a melancholy fiddle melody. After “This Season” comes the first instrumental tune, a Seven Nations staple. Although one who is not used to bagpipes might be a little overwhelmed by “Soft Gator Girl,” it has a way of growing on you.
“Soft Gator Girl,” ends, and there is a brief silence. Which is blown to bits by the hard-rocking “Ballad of Calvin Crozier.” The song explodes onto the scene roaring guitars and a triumphant bagpipe/fiddle line. The lyrics of “Calvin Crozier” tell a true story of a soldier in the U.S. Civil War. I won’t go into details right now, but you can Google it if you so desire (You can also listen to the song, which runs as one of the best on the album). The upbeat “Ballad of Calvin Crozier” dissolves into the heartrending “Twelve.” Despite the obscurity of Seven Nations, “Twelve” is one of their more well-known songs. The song deserves more than what it has, as one simply must dry an eye at Kirk’s mournful situation: “No gods could be/That cruel to me…And I’ll blame myself/and I’ll blame you.” “Twelve” seamlessly blends into “The Paddy Set.” This song is the second of two instrumentals on
The Factory, and, despite its relatively short length, leaves your heart pounding after it finishes. Not to mention the sound of the pipes and fiddle playing together in the final part of this track is one of the most satisfying feelings.
“N.O.T. (I Want My People Back)” opens up the second half of
The Factory. Although it runs as one of the weaker tracks on the album, the superb fiddle riff in the tune makes up for it. Melancholy rock track “Heroes In Tennis Shoes,” though not necessarily the catchiest song on the album, quickly grows on the listener and leaves them in deep thought. However, the real highlight of the second half of
The Factory is “Sweet Orphan,” a piano-driven ballad about feeling lost and without a home. Hard rocking “Mother Mary,” leads into “Daze of Grace.” In
The Factory, Seven Nations gradually builds up a progressive rock theme as the songs go on. It climaxes in “Daze of Grace.” An eerie ethereal choir sings “Amazing Grace,” over dissonant strings, synthesizers, and bagpipes. It could be interpreted as Seven Nations’ “death song,” so to speak. After “Daze of Grace,” slowly ends, an acoustic reprise of “This Season,” fades in. Fades out.
Man, this album is great.
