The squeezebox moans and then comes a Swedish scat from Carina Normansson. They all interlock on a flavorful chorus. Bows murmur, Carr has a dulcimer twang. Fiddles stick to theme, and Tweed jabs little comments. Things really pick up near the end.
Tweed buzzes forth like a fly through the house.
Carr taps beside her, and the others rise like a string orchestra. Those fiddles drawl mightily, and Carr's playing his guitar as if it were a drum kit. A heady dish with many tastes, Sic goes in directions you didn't expect. No reproduction of any part of this page or its associated files is permitted without express written permission.