James Yorkston
When the Haar Rolls In
For his fifth studio album, James Yorkston brings back his banjo, timpani, vibraphone, mandolin, bouzouki and any other random obscure instrument you can think of. I’ve always thought that if an artist has the ability to take you to another place with their music, they’ve done their job. When the Haar Rolls In transports you to Yorkston’s native Scotland, namely to the coastal town of Fife, where the Haar is a heavy grey fog that rolls in off the sea. The gentle strings and expertly blended accompaniment from the aforementioned assortment of instruments works to create some awe-inspiring compositions that are as epic as they are subdued. There’s a quiet confidence that permeates James Yorkston’s music. His lyrics are as unapologetic as always, softly belting out more tales of drinking and melancholy musings. Even his clipped-metered delivery seems to give the impression that he makes music only to express the strange thoughts and images that run through that little red head of his. How can you explain a line like, ‘You still dressed like some unkempt Japanese lady and you’re laughing, as I murdered the Gaelic.’ Who else but James-
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