I’ve always loved Kila’s quiet moments, which are counterfoiled so effectively with rambunctious trance-dance in their live shows and recordings. So the band’s ninth studio album, Soisín, is a real treat. The entire record – comprising ten delightfully soothing, slow and gentle, heart-expanding tracks – is one long caress of the aural senses. Now, instead of picking through their other albums when you’re in the mood for Kíla’s soft side, you can just press play, sit back and let Soisín get to work on your brainwaves. It’s like hitting it lucky with a packet of all-black fruit pastilles.
Besides a tiny smattering of background vocals, Soisín is entirely instrumental. With our cognitive minds allowed to slumber unchallenged by words, Kíla’s beautiful, mellifluous, often haunting and otherworldly instrumental blends quickly summon the listener’s unconscious. The result is a quietened mind. All the tracks on this consistently excellent album have a profoundly soothing, relaxing effect. Where 2003’s Luna Park made your feet move, Soisín makes you sit still, dream and feel.
Anciently, traditional music served three differing functions: ‘Geantraí’ was uptempo dance music; ‘Goltraí’ was weeping music; and ‘Suantraí’ was slumber music. With Soisín, Kila have chosen the latter in which to express themselves. The title of the record says a lot about the peace to be found here. It’s named after Máire O’Halloran, a young Irish woman who joined a Zen Buddhist monastery in Japan, and within three years came to be regarded as a Buddhist Bodhisattva, or ‘saint of compassion’. She died in a bus accident in Thailand. Soisín is Kila’s Irish take on Máire’s Buddhist name, ‘Soshin’, meaning ‘pure heart, enlightened mind’. Wonderful music to fall asleep to.