The Peatbog Faeries are an epic folk music fusion band.  Since 1994 they have arguably been Scotland's premier and most original exponents of the fusion of rock, jazz, dance music and folk, combining Peter Morrison's hypnotic whistles and pipes with driving rhythms and psychadellic sounds. 

Arguably the band's success has spawned a number of inferior imitations, pandering to nationalistic lovers of techno who become pseudo-folkies by virtue of the bagpipes skirling through their dance music, the offending CD being picked up from the nearest tartan tourist kitch shop. 

The Peatbog Faeries, both in live and recorded performance, have always shied away from such kitch by reatining fresh and inventive approaches to their music.

On Sunday night both the setting, crowd and sound engineer did little justice to this giant of the Scottish folk scene.  The Queens Hall is simply not a venue within which a band such as the Peatbogs can thrive.  Due to the very frenetic energy their music requires and (should) inspire in their audience, they are much better suited to a club or outdoor venue than a theatre. 

On the numerous previous occassions I have seen the Peatbogs they have been either in a club or outdoor festival setting and have performed in a symbiotic relationship with their crowd.  The more inebriated and energetic the crowd, the more enthusiasm the band have poured into their performance.  Vast impromptu jigs and "folkie moshing" are hallmarks of a good, lathered, Peatbogs crowd, and it is very easy to get caught up in the frenetic atmosphere.  On Sunday night the majority of the crowd, incongruously, elected to remian seated in the Queens Hall, posing the inevitable question, why were they there in the first place?  As a heavy metal fan at a Nine Inch Nails gig you would, I suppose, not remain seated at the back but would throw yourself into the fray.  The Peatbogs are a dance-based band and are not best appreciated as if one was watching a recital of Hamlet, but by sweating out the alcohol you've consumed in frenzied jigging, bouncing and carousing. 

I should point out that the reticence of the crowd was in no way attributable to any failings of the band but through a variety of factors outwith their control.  Firstly, there should not be seats at a Peatbogs gig.  Any number of Edinburgh Venues (The Bongo Club springs to mind) would have served them better.  Secondly, the sound mixing was fairly average.  I appreciate it must be challenging to mix a seven piece band like the Peatbogs, and I lay no claim to being an expert sound engineer.  However, the shameful fact of the matter was that, despite my central position approximately 6 metres from the Peatbogs front-man Peter Morrison, I could not make out any of his pre-tune banter and his smaller whistles were simply lost in a cacophony of bass and brass.  If the front man's mic is not turned up high enough the rest of the performance falls apart like a deck of cards. 

My only other complaint was that the brass section over-powered the pipes and fiddles, which gave the sound a slightly James Bondesque edge at times.  There can be no doubting the musicianship of the band, especially fiddler Adam who manfully tried to whip up the crowd, and Peter's dexterous pipe and whistle playing.  The simple fact of the matter was that, unfortunately, much of the subtlety of their performance was lost amidst a cavernous venue with average acoustics and a audience sterilised by seating.

My advice is, go see the Peatbog Faeries, but choose a venue where you will be able to enjoy this epic folk fusion outfit at its best.