Suddenly, as the music reached a climax, one of the dancers careered into the fire, releasing a million sparks up into the air – nothing to protect him except the magic of the fire. Up and up they went, rising high on the thermal column pushing up into the darkness, mingling as they ascended, as if a swarm of fireflies had been set free. The brave dancer emerged apparently unscathed on the other side of the fire, scattering glowing coals across the ground which were promptly stamped out as they settled by the barefooted dancers. 

Dan Hume in The Art of Fire

In Papua New Guinea, the Baining tribe still performs a nighttime fire dance ritual on special occasions. The photo above, and the quote that accompanies it, both record this tradition.

I don’t know if the Scottish folk band, Àirdan, had that in mind when they named one of their tunes Nightfires, but I suspect not. It’s a long way from Scotland to Papua New Guinea – halfway round the world, in fact – and there’s a big gulf, too, between traditional Scottish folk and the music of the south-west Pacific. It seems more likely that they were thinking of the species of Hibiscus flowers sometimes known as Night Fire. Either way, the result is a rather nice, laid back piece featuring accordion, fiddle and guitar.

Folk music can be rough and ready, but Àirdan‘s compositions are not like that at all; they are expertly crafted and highly polished. The tunes on the album are all new, but with a strong traditional feel. To use their own words, “Their sound is shaped by the acoustic energy of late night Celtic sessions, enriched by influences from travels to far flung corners of the globe”.

So, perhaps, those Nightfires were lit in the hearts of the band’s four Edinburgh musicians when they were guests at the fire dance ritual in Papua New Guinea, after all.