Time has proven Swainn’s 2021 collection Under a Willow Tree to be a lynchpin release in the band’s growing discography. It marked a moment when the Phoenix, Arizona-headquartered band broached beyond the standard array of rowdy drinking songs thus far defining their act. Make no mistake, Swainn didn’t set forth to remake the songwriting wheel with Under a Willow Tree’s writing, but it touches on themes outside the purview of traditional Irish/Celtic folk with a punk rock twist.
They’ve returned to this demarcation point to further burnish its value. Adding new member Rob MacIntosh’s bass lines to Under a Willow Tree’s eleven cuts imbues the prevalent up-tempo spark with added fire. He plays with propulsive physicality that reenergizes these performances. Lead singer and guitarist Neil Jay Ward has laid down scattered new guitar parts that match MacIntosh’s verve each note of the way. This isn’t a gratuitous re-issue. Swainn’s remastering of Under a Willow Moon displays this important release as the band envisioned it.
“Voices” still boasts the same highly charged challenge of its earlier incarnation. It is an ideal opener that states the band’s identity for newcomers with unvarnished musical and lyrical clarity. Amanda Lubking’s seemingly relentless fiddle playing makes a deep impact; it’s the first entry in what you can ultimately judge as a tour-de-force performance on the whole. “Bag o’ Bones” is an early example of the band’s new attempt to reach for new subject matter. The philosophical inclinations underlying the lyric link in an interesting way with the musical content. Ensemble performances are the bedrock of Swainn’s presentation, and “Bag o’ Bones” exemplifies that approach.
“In the Morning” is defiant whistling past the graveyard. Swainn tosses any obvious nuance aside in favor of jacked-up musical power, but the lyrics often betray deeper complexities than you might first suspect. One of the crucial elements separating Under a Willow Tree’s material from its predecessors is the heightened attention to significant detail. This applies on both a lyrical and musical level.
Swainn never wanders too far afield from their core subjects with Under a Willow Tree’s songwriting. However, moments such as “Home” point towards daring new possibilities. The band takes their collective feet off the pedal, notably slows down their presentation, and achieves a familiar sound that is nevertheless, somehow, all their own. It’s one of the collection’s true highlights. The vocal arrangement is especially effective; the blending of Swainn’s disparate voices glows with unexpectedly woozy, shambolic charm.
“Sink or Float” is grizzled, individualistic, and the rugged uncompromising personality emerging from the songwriting. One of their greatest strengths, then and now, is their ability to zero in on a big-time chorus certain to play well for audiences. “Sink or Float” ranks among Swainn’s best. The final peak moment for many listeners will arrive with “Up on the Mountain”, a sprawling epic for the band clocking in at nearly four and a half minutes, but it delivers the goods. Swainn intersperses hard rock influences into the arrangement with memorable effects, and the dynamics threading the composition together do an excellent job of accentuating its storytelling.
It’s no wonder that Swainn returned to this album. They likely sense what scores of others will after hearing it for the first time – it’s a band working a high level, the songwriting hits the mark, and the production frames it all in the best possible light. Under a Willow Tree is more vital than ever.
Trace Whittaker