Album Review: The Boston States by Katie McNally Trio
Alright, so if you’re into folk music with a Celtic twist, The Boston States by the Katie McNally Trio is one of those albums that kinda sneaks up on you. Released back in 2016, this self-released gem is packed with toe-tapping tunes and heartfelt melodies. It’s not trying too hard to be anything fancy—it just feels real, like sitting around with friends jamming after a long day. And honestly? That’s what makes it stick.
The trio—Katie McNally on fiddle, Neil Pearlman handling piano and guitar, and Shauncey Ali on viola—brings this earthy vibe to traditional Celtic sounds. They’ve got tracks here that feel like they’ve been passed down through generations but still sound fresh. Let me tell ya about two songs that really stood out for me.
First off, there’s “She’s Sweetest When She’s Naked.” Yeah, yeah, I know—the title grabs your attention right away (how could it not?). But beyond the cheeky name, this tune has this playful energy that gets stuck in your head. Katie’s fiddling skips along like she’s telling some kind of musical joke, and Neil’s piano adds these little flourishes that make it sparkle without overdoing it. It’s lighthearted and fun, perfect for when you need something upbeat but not overwhelming. Plus, who wouldn’t want to hum a song with such a bold title?
Then there’s “Down the Burn, Davie Lad,” which hits different. This one slows things down a bit and lets the instruments breathe. There’s this mournful quality to the melody, especially in the way Katie plays her fiddle—it’s almost like she’s whispering an old story you can’t quite catch all the words to. Shauncey’s viola adds depth, giving it this rich, layered sound that feels warm even when it’s sad. Tracks like this remind you why folk music works—it connects to feelings we don’t always put into words.
One thing I love about this album is how unpolished it feels—not sloppy, just honest. You can hear the cracks and quirks in the playing, and instead of taking away from it, they add character. Like, this isn’t some shiny studio production where everything’s auto-tuned within an inch of its life. Nope, it’s raw and alive, full of breath and soul.
And hey, maybe that’s why I keep coming back to it. In a world full of playlists tailored by algorithms, The Boston States feels human. It doesn’t try to reinvent the wheel; it just reminds you why wheels were invented in the first place—to get somewhere worth going.
Random thought: If I ever find myself living in a cabin in the woods, I’m putting this album on repeat. Not only would it match the vibe, but it’d probably scare off any bears lurking nearby. Or maybe attract them. Who knows with bears?
