The Shieling – Fergus McCreadie

Some albums are born in the studio. The Shieling is born in a place. In his new work, Scottish pianist Fergus McCreadie steps away from the meticulous planning of his previous albums to venture into a more intuitive, almost elemental process. Recorded in a remote cabin in North Uist, in Scotland’s Outer Hebrides, the record captures something elusive: the feeling of being completely within the landscape.

Accompanied by his regular collaborators—David Bowden on double bass and Stephen Henderson on drums—the trio builds a sound that breathes with its surroundings. The piano—this time an upright—becomes rawer and more intimate; the rhythm, more organic; the melodies, more open. Laura Jurd’s production heightens this search, approaching each piece not as a closed composition, but as a form in constant transformation.

While McCreadie’s previous works explored the relationship between jazz and Scottish tradition, in The Shieling, that connection becomes deeper and quieter. It’s not about integrating folk elements, but about letting the territory dictate the pulse.

The result is an album that doesn’t impose; it accompanies. It doesn’t describe the landscape; it contains it. It is music that, like the wind on the islands, cannot always be seen—but is always felt.