Katell Keineg

For this Celtic soul, freedom involves being on a stage or, possibly, sleeping in a passageway under the sea.

Here's the deal. You fly all the way from London to Dublin to hear Katell Keineg sing the arcane and beautiful Hestia, one of the most extraordinary songs you've ever loved. You've played it dozens of times since it was first available (as a single on Bob Mould's Singles Only Label a couple of years ago) and you're still no closer to finding its core. You admire that in a song.

Odd lines strike you every time, like the opening "You are witnessing a start". You're very fond of "I've been sleeping in a passageway under the sea" and the strangely lovely chorus always gets you: "I want you/But I dont want your monkey." You presume it's about falling for a junkie. But what you know for certain is that the three notes she chose for "I want you" are perfect. On the record there's a marvellous section where strings swell while timpanis and accordians clamour and it nearly always makes you want to cry. How often does that happen? but there it is, a song you barely understand, with a fantastic melody - sung in the most tender but dynamic way by this wood-smoked voice with a delicious Welsh lilt - that encourages tears.

And she doesn't play it. Typical.

Never mind, though, because she does sing her tumultous heart out, despite suffering from the chicken-pox. (The first couple of rows loved that revelation!) It's soon apparant that Hestia isnt the only song with plenty of intriguing lines. In fact it wouldn't be too outrageous to declare Katell Keineg a poet who sings. She's infectious (hah!). She mucks about and grins and breaks down everyone's nerves before delivering these tricky creations. You are stunned, charmed - entertained, dammit.

You've already had chicken - pox, so you take the chance and pop backstage after to give her a hard time for not playing your favourite song. "You should have yelled out," she says, expansive grin on the go. She is, you think, enourmously chuffed to be here. "Oh yes I really love doing this. It's just a joy."

Katell Keineg (CAT-ell KAY-neck) was born in France of Breton father and Welsh mother. Her parents were active in the Breton independence movement and she was exposed at an early age to both French and Welsh folk music. The family moved to Wales and young Katell took to singing in choirs and at eisteddfods, developing a crush on George Harrison, singing along to the Beatles, Led Zep and The Skids and, aged 16, began busking in Cardiff. As her confidence built she travelled round Britain and Eire to play ad hoc gigs. She particularly liked the reception she was afforded in Dublin, met her manager there and decided to make the city her home.

Her first album, O Seasons O Castles, was recorded in New York with former Lou Reed/Scritti Politti man Fred Maher in the producer's chair and accompaniment from her regular stage companions Paul Tiernan and double-bass player Garvan Gallagher. It's an ambitious collection which offers up spoken passages, chilling ballads, feroucious growls of pain and upbeat jazzy interludes during an emotional hour or so on your deck.

At the Whelan's show she unveils some excellent post-album material too. I was particularly taken with a song called Mother's Map with the closing refrain "I'm 10 percent free", sung in a poignantly optimistic way. Is that how you feel then, 10 percent free?

"Yes it is. I feel a lot of constraints, some of them just as a human being, a lot of them as a woman, you feel limited in 10 million subtle ways. Feeling an obligation to be liked, to fit in with other people, relying on the grid of relationships - which are both a strain and a pleasure. It's the old individual versus the community thing. How many bits of yourself do you have to chop off to fit in with the community? Thats why I'm so happy when I'm up on stage, becuase I'm much more free than I am at any other time."

What would it take to achieve the other 90 percent of your freedom? "Becoming Mahatma Ghandi? I dunno."

How about 40 years perched on top of a pole?

"Hermitage certainly appeals. But I would miss human contact."

Is Hestia about fancying a junkie? "Could be. A monkey could be anything that you rely on, any destructive habit."

But presumably you wrote it with that in mind, someone who comes with baggage. "I suppose so. The songs are all from personal experience."

You must have had a turbulent emotional life.

"Well...it's all relative!"

- Jim Irvin


who | look | sounds | contact | articles | records | links | home