Celtic Strings Wings: A Journey Through Time and Heartstrings
If you’re into music that feels like a warm hug on a cold day, Celtic Strings Wings by King's Consort (with Ben Tavera King) might just be your next obsession. Released back in 1995 under the Canadian label Iago, this album is a treasure chest of Celtic vibes, perfect for anyone who loves folk, world, or country sounds. It’s not flashy—it’s more like an old friend showing up with stories to tell.
Let me start with “Sweet Fiona By The Sea.” Oh man, this track hits different. From the first pluck of Ben Tavera King’s lute, it’s like stepping into a dreamy seaside village where time slows down. You can almost smell the saltwater and hear the waves whispering secrets. There’s something about how gentle yet full it feels—like Fiona herself is dancing barefoot on the shore, leaving footprints no one will ever find. This tune sticks with me because it doesn’t try too hard; it lets its soul shine through simplicity. No frills, just pure magic.
Then there’s “Jane’s Toye Jig,” which flips the mood entirely. If “Sweet Fiona” is a quiet moment of reflection, this one’s a lively kitchen ceilidh where everyone’s laughing and stomping their feet. The rhythm grabs hold of you, refusing to let go until you’re tapping along—even if you didn’t mean to! It’s impossible not to picture folks clapping hands and spinning around while someone pours another round of cider. That energy? Pure joy bottled up in five minutes.
The rest of the tracks follow suit, weaving together ancient melodies with modern touches. Whether it’s the haunting beauty of “Mary Queen Of Scots - Her Galliard” or the playful bounce of “Wilson’s Wilde,” each piece tells its own story without needing words. And honestly, isn’t that what great music does? It speaks straight to your heart, bypassing all the noise.
What strikes me most about Celtic Strings Wings is how timeless it feels. Listening to it now, nearly three decades later, it still sounds fresh—as though it was written yesterday but has always existed somehow. Maybe that’s the power of Celtic music: it connects us to something bigger than ourselves, something eternal.
So here’s my random thought to leave you with: I bet Ben Tavera King would make an amazing campfire storyteller. Something about his lute playing makes me want to sit cross-legged under the stars, roasting marshmallows and listening to tales of faraway lands. Isn’t that what good music should do—transport you somewhere else entirely?
