Celtic rock is indeed a thing or at least it is way up north in the land of the kilt. It was therefore no surprise that “Polaroid”, the new album from Torridon, kicked off with the skirl of the pipes before setting of on its journey through the heather.
And it is also no surprise that there is a healthy market for this sort of thing as all those with the blood of the clans in their veins – no matter where they might geographically be – will stomp their feet in the mud and raise their glass to songs like those on this album. The traditional Scottish influences are not forgotten, and are indeed strong here, but they are laid over an eternally rolling rock diorama where every cliché has been captured and turned to Torridon’s advantage.
Sentimentality features strongly in the lyrics of “Polaroid” almost as if Deacon Blue had been cloned and then put on a diet of steroids and haggis. Duly, there is nothing small scale or introspective here. The lexical sweeps are broad and, to tell the truth, just what the doctor ordered if your longing for the glens is strong. Who, after all, wants a prescription for something that you can’t see without your glasses for size is, after all, important with Torridon duly going large on just about everything. That, I would suppose, is truly a Celtic rock thing and Torridon do it rather well.