Aerialists Celebrate Tradition and Innovation in Their Album “I Lost My Heart On Friday”
On a sun-kissed evening, as the first sounds of "I Lost My Heart On Friday" invade the senses, you are transported into a space where reshaping tradition meets a new view on innovation. Grappling a platypus, Aerialists, the Juno-nominated exploratory Canadian ensemble, are producing a musical fabric that is equal parts neo-trad folk tincture and experimental hallucinogen.
Yes, this album marks a colorful departure from their previous inward-looking records. Borne out of a secluded retreat on a small island during the pandemic’s second summer, harpist Màiri Chaimbeul, fiddler Elise Boeur and guitarist Adam Iredale-Gray poured into each track a yearning for reconnection and exhilaration of impending gatherings. The outcome is a sound celebration that calls listeners to participate in a communal party of sound and rhythm.
“Father Swan Story (Labajalg / Bourrée de Porte)” begins the album with a kind of spellbinding dualism. The opening melody, "Isa Luige Lugu," is the song of a swan made graceful in a labajalg tune collected in Estonia by Mihkel Toom. The injection of rock elements—electric guitar riffs, indie pop rhythms—also gives the old motif some fresh air. But it's the lazy segue into "Bourrée de Porte," a French folk tune half-reconstructed by the composer Jean Pierre Champeval, that is utterly riveting. The instrumentation creates a vision of Celtic fairy tale while swallowing the listener in a world both familiar and fantastical.
Moreover, the title track “I Lost My Heart On Friday”, wraps the listener in a quilt of warmth and contemplation. Complemented by the addition of a reel known as “Eddie Kelly’s,” as well as a tune sourced from the Donald Grant collection from the 1790s, the piece wed catchy, ninth-bad rhythmic patterns with the ethereal sounds of Celtic harps and intricate guitar lines. The interwoven Celtic flute passages alone elevate the track; you’ll feel immediately transported to mist-laden hillsides and starlit gatherings.
The album’s joyful impulse gets a further boost with the song “Festivalpolskas,” a spirited mix of polskas drawn from a range of Swedish traditions. This song had a celebratory feel with dancing rhythms driven by what seems to be hammered dulcimer, Celtic guitar riffs and lively Irish fiddle. With festival-like vibes, the playful call and response between the instruments encourages everyone to celebrate together, dancing along to the song.
Also, “Gammel-Steinomen” serves as a reflective interlude that embraces the slow, rich traditions of dances from Norway. Taught by Erlend Viken, this springleik blends the intoxicating strains of the Irish fiddle with the gentle whispers of Celtic harps. The result is a hauntingly beautiful and deeply meditative soundscape.
“The Birds (Hornpipe / Reel)” combines “The Birds,” an Irish hornpipe, with “Am Fasan Th’aig Na Caileagan”, a Scottish Gaelic song ruminating on female dress. This song creates an atmosphere, like a soft wind on the sea in morning sunshine. Its delicate melodies and restrained harmonies highlight the group’s talent for extracting drama from restraint.
On top of that, “Memories of Anascaul (Polkas)” breathes life into the exuberance of the album. Even this French/Irish medley of polkas — including a Léon Peyrat tune and “The Anascaul” — paints a jolly atmosphere like a medieval party. The peppy tempos and sunny melodies render it practically impossible to not tap a toe or sway in time.
The complex configurations of “All Covered With Moss (Jigs / Slipjig)” showcase the group’s virtuosic interplay. Traditional Irish and Scottish jigs highlight their technical mastery, along with how well they meld their parts. Its intricate rhythms and colorful ideas reflect a deep reverence for the traditions it embraces while testing the limits of the conventions themselves.
In addition, “The Bodach And The Lads (Three-twos)” brings levity and quirkiness to the album. By pairing a jovial Scottish song with a Northumbrian hornpipe, the track brings a fun layer that inspires a more thoughtful listen. It’s a pleasing reminder of music’s power to share tales and feelings that words cannot.
Finishing the album, “The Shoemaker’s Daughter Set (Reels),” is a trio of reels that combines Ed Reavy’s compositions with traditional Irish tunes. The exuberant call-and-response between fiddle, harp and guitar builds to a riotous conclusion that embodies the album’s spirit of celebration. In fact, it’s a climax that leaves the listener fulfilled but thirsty for more.
It’s important to note that Aerialists have created a time- and genre-defying sonic odyssey. Their vow to “create something that felt celebratory… using old traditional melodies to create music that we felt was appropriate to a dancing crowd at sunset in the grass at a summer music festival” isn’t just fulfilled, it is monumentally surpassed. They have dreamed of a future rich in connection, and each painstakingly rendered track lends life to that dream.
Their album "I Lost My Heart On Friday" is, in short, an affirmation of the continuing power of music as a bridge between past and present, tradition and innovation. It is an album that is difficult to press pause on, each track pulling the listener further into its own world. Instrumentals often allow for more raw emotion to come from each instrument as opposed to the body.
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