Some reunions coast on memory, others roar into the present as if they had never left. Cauld Blast Orchestra’s return to the Traverse is firmly the latter. Born out of Communicado’s Jock Tamson’s Bairns more than thirty years ago, the band has always revelled in being unpigeonholeable. Folk, jazz, rock and classical sit in the same set, stitched with irreverence and played with virtuosity.
Founding members remain the backbone. Karen Wimhurst, who first gathered the band together in 1990, is on clarinet for most of the evening, weaving intricate lines that remind you why this music still burns bright. Ian Johnstone dazzles with his versatility, moving between tuba, accordion and piano, each instrument sounding like it’s his true home. Steve Kettley, equally compelling, cuts loose on clarinet and saxophone, sometimes edging into a ska-like bounce that electrifies the rhythm. And then there is Ann Wood on violin, whose lyrical drive continues to anchor the sound, joined by fellow originator Robin Mason on cello.
The later duo give one of the night’s most memorable moments with Savage Dance, a piece first heard in Communicado’s original Tramway production. At the Traverse, it becomes a showpiece duel, Wood and Mason spar like fiddler and banjoist in bluegrass combat, turning violin and cello into a Highland take on Dueling Banjos. Played over a rich red Axminster carpet, it’s witty, ferocious and utterly unforgettable.
Earlier in the evening, Steve Kettley’s Symphony of Mammon proves a standout. Its growling groove is anchored by a bass line that takes over halfway through and never lets go. Even when Kettley breaks free for a saxophone jam, the pulse refuses to budge, pushing the whole band into lockstep and sending the room swaying along with it.
And then near the end, Tango for a Drowning Man delivers a knockout blow. Haunting melodic lines drift across stomping jazz rhythms, the contrast giving it an emotional bite that is both elegant and raw. It’s lyrical, unsettling, and exhilarating all at once, the kind of piece that lingers in your ears long after the house lights come up.
This isn’t just a reunion of old comrades. Three new recruits, none of whom were born when Cauld Blast released their albums, bring fire of their own. Gillie O’Flaherty on guitar, Tom Campbell on flutes and whistles, and Sam Mabbett on melodeon slot in without a hint of hesitancy. O’Flaherty supplies grit and propulsion, Campbell’s flutes whisper then cut like gulls through the air, Mabbett gives the whole ensemble a spring-heeled bounce. They are catalysts rather than apprentices, daring the veterans to stretch further.
The Traverse proves the perfect setting. The audience is packed, eager, and the band play with both intimacy and abandon, whispering one moment and barnstorming the next.
What emerges is a reminder that Cauld Blast were ahead of their time. The founding members show why their craft is still so exhilarating, the new blood proves the ideas are fertile for another generation. By the final bow, it’s clear, this is not nostalgia. It’s a living, breathing, joyous blast, and it’s far from over.
Reviewer: Greg Holstead
Reviewed: 13th September 2025
North West End UK Rating:
Running time – 2hr 20mins (including interval)