Sounds

It seems Mozart was a genius. A composer since he was just 5 years old, and the envy of many of his peers. Isn’t it amazing how some people seem to have such a natural affinity for music! In my own life, so far, I have encountered a few people with this natural talent. Some years back, I bought a video called ‘Django Legacy’ about the great Gypsy Jazz player, Django Reinhardt. There was a Gypsy kid on it called Jimmy Rosenberg. I think he was about 7 at the time and he was already amazing, I couldn’t believe it. I almost gave up playing! More recently, I accidentally encountered a 9 year old guitarist on youtube, playing live with the great bluesman Buddy Guy. A few months ago I met my jazz saxophonist friend, Gary Baus, and he was in a state of awe after encountering a child of about 12, busking on the street with his dad and playing amazing jazz guitar. He said he nearly crashed the bike from looking back in amazement. The boy’s name is Andreas Varady. Look him up on youtube, he is destined for great things!

We should never be disheartened by the musical talent of others. Music isn’t a competition. It is a form of expression, like speaking. People speak in all sorts of ways to each other, just being themselves. Quickly, slowly, high, low, distinctly, slurred, all different modes of expression without worrying about it, that’s just how we talk. Why shouldn’t music be the same, everyone just enjoying each other’s company? When I taught for a while at St. Augustine’s College in Dungarvan, I had the pleasure of meeting a lot of very talented young musicians. The music class there is a credit to the school and to the teacher, Kelley Gardiner. I found a wonderful environment there that fostered creativity, and gave the music people a great sense of community.

I have had a few guitar students myself who made my jaw drop at every new lesson, they excelled at such an incredible rate. I hope that they continue to grow musically throughout their lives. We never reach musical perfection, there is always something else to learn, always something else to engage our interest. As a teacher, I like to bring out the natural ability in each student, and to work with their own passions and musical taste. That way, each student is given the opportunity to grow in their chosen genre, to soon gain their own sound and ‘become themselves’. It takes time and effort to master an instrument, but it is well worth the effort. The key to it all is to love it, and keep loving it. If you enjoy yourself every time you play, it’ll never seem like work, even when you work on the more monotonous elements of playing. Keep remembering the meaning of the word, ‘play’. Every time you grab a guitar, you are playing.

After having a break from teaching during the Summer, I am looking forward to getting back to it in a couple of weeks time, and seeing how all of my students are getting on. There are still a couple of places left so if you would like to learn guitar, give me a call (086 3634005). It doesn’t matter if you are young or old, beginner or advanced, I would be happy to teach you the music you love.

Coming soon, a great young singer called Becky McCloskey will be appearing in a concert with Liam Lawton. The concert takes place at St. Carthage’s Catholic Church in Lismore at 8pm on Sunday week (12 September). They say apples don’t fall far from the trees, and indeed Becky’s talent didn’t appear out of nowhere. She is from a fabulously musical household!

Hot Press Music Show 09

Dungarvan Observer, 1 September  2010

Can you be “too old to rock?” I posed the question to Cathy Davey’s middle-aged Manchunian bus-driver the other day and he said “Don’t be ridiculous,” before walking away shaking his head in disgust at such an idea.

A couple of friends of mine wrote blogs about the same topic recently, almost simultaneously and unknown to each other. The first of them, upon feeling the creeping of age, wondered if you could still be cool while enjoying a pleasant cup of tea and a nice early night, while the second blogger figured that nobody could possibly ‘rock’ after the age of 23, and posted a whole lot of seriously unflattering photos of ageing rockers to illustrate his point. This blogger is, himself, still under 23.

Maybe everyone responds differently to the question of rockability, depending on their point of view (and their age). Personally, I would say that some people never were cool, they never could rock and they never will. There are other people who have always had that elusive magnetic quality and probably will until the day they die. Consider Liam Ó Maonlaí, John Lee Hooker or Tom Waits for example. Who among them could ever become uncool? Can you imagine any of them ever settling into a gracious, docile retirement? I certainly can’t!

Of course there is a point to be made about certain bands when what they stand for is very particular to a specific time and place. The reformation of such bands after years of silence is often driven by ugly commercial forces alone without any other clarity of purpose, since the initial impetus evaporated years ago. When the Sex Pistols showed up on the bill of Electric Picnic a few years back, I couldn’t bring myself to go. To me, that time is gone. To me, these guys represented an angry political reaction among a group of young people, but they are old now, times have changed a lot since then, and somehow I can’t imagine them feeling so strongly about the angsty songs anymore.

Here we are again with the passage of time and how it affects us. We are as we are and we do as we do, we are creatures of habit, and time moves along of its own accord. Do you suppose Angus Young ever expected to become an old man who jumps around the stage in schoolboy pants? Did Dylan think he’d ever be old, back when he wrote The Times They Are A’Changin’? I doubt it somehow!

This week in Dungarvan, head for Downey’s Bar on Friday night for a new local band called The Othersides (Declan Hyland, Tim Daly, Alan Crotty and Shane Whelan) with support by Luke Ameglio and Vincent Robson.

Now’s your chance, quick, get them while they’re fresh and new. See them now, before they get old!

I went to the Tramore Races last weekend, to play music and to look after the other musicians who played each day. My own band (The Darktown Strutters) played on Thursday night and we were treated royally for the whole day with plenty of fine food, booze and company. The atmosphere was great. As soon as the last race crossed the finish line, we jumped onstage and launched into Pennies from Heaven. Before long, there were men, women and children dancing all around the place with big smiles on their faces. I suppose they must have won a few of those heavenly pennies earlier.

On Friday, I arrived early to meet Liam Ó Maonlaí. He arrived with a great mop of hair and a beard that a bird would be glad to nest in. Once the soundcheck was done, he headed back to his hotel for a while and I headed to the city to put up a couple of last minute posters. The finely attired butcherman by BPM records directed me to a space in the window and just as I was putting it up he said “I hope it’s religious!” while just down the square, a band called “Rubber Soul” was keeping the people entertained.

Later on, back at the track, Liam Ó Maonlaí began with the Lakes of Ponchatrain and had the whole place enthralled by the end of the night, gradually building to a climax with his piano, bodhrán, tin whistle, mbira, button accordion, mouth organ and dobro. By the time he played “Don’t Go” and “I Can See Clearly Now”, the whole audience were dancing and singing along with this marvelous multi-instrumentalist.

On Saturday morning, I drank some tea with Liam and spoke of all sorts of things musical and mystical while we waited for Cathy Davey’s band to arrive. Just as Liam was leaving, a fine bus pulled into the yard, driven by a Manchester man in a bowler hat who later taught us all to bet. We got the soundchecks done as quickly as possible, before too many horses arrived at the stables behind the stage. After a beautiful lunch in the Front Room, we headed for the races. I don’t remember the last time I was at a horserace, but the excitement was electric at the finish line.

The marquee filled to capacity almost immediately while Cathy sang hits like Rueben, Sing for your Supper and the more recent Little Red and Army of Tears. Her new album is absolutely beautiful. Buy it! When the crowd were on a high, Cathy and the band broke into an unexpected Jackson 5 number, I want you back. The joint was jumping!

Sunday was a scorcher of a day and myself and John Spillane headed straight for the beach after the soundcheck, for a swim. John played a few of the tracks off his next album for me as we drove. There’s some great stuff on there, for sure. Wait until you hear The Ferry Arms, a kind of Irish rap about a pub, brilliantly done with some great unexpected sound effects. And there’s a lovely song about a Daddy-longlegs, and one about a fella who steals colours from a rainbow.

Being involved in music is sometimes like having a huge extended family, and it’s always exciting to meet branches of the family you hadn’t met before. During the course of the weekend, I was delighted to meet Vince Power (probably one of the very best music promoters ever), and after the beach, we met the honey-voiced Karen Casey. She gave us a tip on a horse, which we bet on, and he came in first! That was a fortuitous first encounter! I look forward to meeting her again.

John Spillane was joined on stage by a great banjo player called Brian Morrissey. Sometimes I could have sworn that I was watching him in fast-forward, I don’t know how he moves so fast! They played away as the shadows lengthened, and people chilled out on the grass, singing along to songs like An Maidrín Rua, Beidh Aonach Amárach and other songs they learned at school. Karen Casey joined him for a song too, and she surely had all the men falling in love with that voice. And there was great laughs to the showmanship of John Spillane as he sang a selection of his hits. If he wasn’t a singer, he’d still have a fine career as a stand-up comedian!

I would have a hard job mentioning all of the people who made this horseracing festival great, but the list would definitely include Sue Phelan and all of the racecourse staff, Bernie Cahill and his sound crew, WLR FM, Ian Noctor, Frankie King, the wonderful Vee Restaurant staff, the brilliant barstaff, the sound security staff, the friendly local Gardaí, the racecourse directors, the jockeys, the trainers and the women with the hats. They have turned a lot of great musicians into big racing fans!

This week I’m resting, but I hope to check out Ceadal Ceoil le Donal Clancy i dTigh an tSagairt, An Sean Phobal (8pm).

(From Dungarvan Observer Article, 18 August 2010)

John Spillane and Brian Morrissey

Last weekend I witnessed an amazing evening of Balkan Gypsy music in the Pavilion in Cork. The first band was a lively band called “Za Ucha”, who played a mind-blowing mix of Balkan, Klezmer and Gypsy music on clarinet, fiddle, accordion, drums, bass, percussion, electric guitar, sax and flute. There was some fantastic dancing going on too. Next up was Australia’s “Crooked Fiddle Band”. This band of insane Australians sounded a cross between Balkan Gypsy and heavy metal, with some Aboriginal sounds in the mix too. Three lads and a girl wrestled some amazing sounds from violin, bass, bouzouki and drums. After that, the decks were fired up by vodka-fuelled DJ Mayakovsky. A veteran of Eastern European madness playing his favorite Balkan, Romanian, and Hungarian tunes from Boban Markovic, Taraf de Haidouks and lots more. A happy insanity filled the place with crazy dancing all around the room, with a whole lot of interesting characters from all around the world. If you like this kind of thing, watch out for the next “Gypsy Carnival” at the Pavilion.

This coming weekend, from Thursday to Sunday, Tramore is the place to be for “Craic at the Track.” After each day’s racing, there will be a band playing live at the finish line:

Come and dance from 8.30pm on Thursday night, to the swing jazz tunes of the Darktown Strutters. After that, head to the bar for Doubletime, a night of hot jazz with DJ Gary. Jump, jive, romp and stomp to the best big band swing jazz from the 1930′s and 40′s (Count Basie, Duke Ellington, Benny Goodman, Glenn Miller, Artie Shaw etc). The jazz will get you up so you can really get down, so come out and party like it’s 1939!

Friday night at 8.30pm, come and see the inimitable Hothouse Flower, Liam Ó Maonlaí, playing a selection of his hits, and his favourite songs. Last time I saw him (in the Town Hall Theatre in Dungarvan), he sang some old blues, some Dylan, and even some traditional Irish songs and tunes on whistle and bodhrán. He really had the place jumping!

Half past eight on Saturday night will feature the wonderful Cathy Davey whose new album has been receiving a whole lot of media attention. I haven’t seen her in about three years, but the last time I saw her, she had an onstage presence that held the Electric Picnic audience mesmerized. I’m really looking forward to seeing her play again!

At half past five on Sunday, John Spillane will be on stage with Brian Morrissey on banjo. They’ll be tearing through trad and belting out songs until seven. Brian Morrissey almost send sparks from the banjo, such is the electricity of his playing. And John Spillane is one hell of a character, as much a comedian as a singer. If you haven’t seen him yet, now’s your chance. His new daddy-longlegs song may well be his next big hit, go see for yourself…

(From Dungarvan Observer Article, 11 August 2010)

Cathy Davey

Last Wednesday night, the thought of fresh tart and fast dancing legs lured me to the Booley House in Ballyduff (phone 058 60456 for tickets). I got there just in time to grab a quick tea and a tart before finding my way to a seat. There was a good turnout as usual, it’s a very popular show. Out they came, all kinds of dancing children and grown-ups, musicians, a singer and a storyteller, some great entertainment to engage the senses. I looked around at one point to see the rest of the audience glued to their seats, absolutely enthralled by the show.As my attention returned to the stage my eyes filled with tears when I was hit with a most horrendous stink. I thought briefly that a couple of pigs, a skunk and a cow must have wandered in beside me, but in the absence of evidence I soon concluded that the smell was actually coming in short sharp bursts from a person, somewhere nearby. Good gracious, their dinner was not being good to their insides. In any case, I soon passed out altogether and found myself drifting dreamily skywards for want of fresh air.

Up and up I went, up through the ceiling, up through the rooftop and past the trees, up through the rain and the clouds in the sky. Life there was good, the air was clear and sweet. There I spied a harp, no two, and two figures drifting towards them. Angels? I moved closer. These were no angels. A cacophonous commotion filled the air as these two smiling creatures clumsily pulled and dragged on the harp-strings, and soon their high hair came into focus to reveal the identity of these famous twins. From high above them, I began to fall, no doubt due to the musical assault. Down I fell, just missing the gormless harpers in my flawed trajectory. Down I shot, like a bullet, through the clouds again, head first, and towards the ground at a frightening rate. With the combination then of shock, velocity and altitude, my consciousness evaporated again and the next thing I knew, I was in a field in Michelstown surrounded by a drunken rabble, each one determined to out-shout, or out-do the other, as they stumbled and drank.

My awareness slowly found me again, and when the mists of dreams and nightmares faded, I brushed myself off and wandered away with the want of an antidote to the chaotic sounds of my dream. I didn’t see every band by any means, but the first band I saw at Indiependence were cocky yet unsubstantial, the next one sounded un-prepared. The third band sounded just like the first but less in tune, and so it went until Joe Echo, who kept the people entertained for a time. A little later on the main stage, Reverend and the Makers got the crowd jumping, building excitement throughout their set. After that, the Alabama 3 held my attention in the cold night air for a few songs, but then I drifted off to see Delorentos rock the Cyprus Avenue stage. Later still, I did my best to sleep through the noise of the all-night party of a festival campsite.

On Sunday morning I awoke very early, very tired, slightly stiff and sore. When I considered the prospect of spending the whole day in a field with these loud people, limited food choices and un-enticing toilets, I decided to escape to Cork city for a while to recharge. Such relief, the quietness of a Sunday morning in Cork with the peaceful river like a sheet of glass reflecting the banks, the buildings and the birds above. A leisurely breakfast and a ramble around the sleepy Sunday streets was just the thing I needed before returning to the other world of the music festival. I got back to Michelstown just in time to catch the last couple of songs from Waterford’s O Emperor. They were great, a tight band with good arrangements and harmonies. I was impressed, and I was finally feeling a festival atmosphere coming on. A while after that, Fred were fantastic; Ham Sandwich were plenty energetic with a guitar that seemed sometimes possessed in the hands of the right hand man and the Coronas did a phenomenal set of songs, perfectly formed for the oceanic surge and swell of a festival crowd. It seemed there was little enough anyone could do to top a set like that, but then Duke Special came along and blew everything else out of the water with his sense of theatre, absurdity and personality. His band were unbelievable too, red hot, with the clarinettist in a little red ringmasters jacket driving the audience onwards in perfect counterpoint with the Duke himself. The show took the audience to another world entirely full of fantasy and fun. We were spellbound…

This week, there is music again in all the usual places. You’ll find trad at the Local, balladeering at Bridie Dee’s, country in Crotty’s and merriment at the Moorings. I’m heading westward myself during the week to play jazz in Glandore, and I hope to see you all on Thursday week at Tramore Racecourse (12 August), dancing to the Darktown Strutters after the races. Then there’s Liam O Maonlai on Fri 13, Cathy Davey on Sat 14 and John Spillane on Sun 15. That’ll be a fun weekend.

(This is the elongated version of a Dungarvan Observer Article from Wed 4 August)

Time is an odd thing. Before very long at all, each and every one of us will be gone, remembered for just a short while before we vanish altogether, never to be spoken of again. Sometimes little signs of the past emerge, maybe just some ancient graffiti on a wall or maybe an old photo is found. I’ve been thinking about these things since I found out about a whole period of local history that I had never heard about before. Have you ever heard about a man called Hugh Baker from Youghal who managed to escape from a pirate ship bound for a life of slavery? Or have you heard about the 10 people who were taken from their boat near Dungarvan to be sold as slaves in Algiers? There were a whole lot of situations that a slave could end up in depending on their particular skills. Musicians didn’t get the worst deal in the world at all, for the most part. I read about one man who had to play his lute in a harem every day. There are certainly worse ways to be spending time. Imagine being that man, sitting there surrounded by the most beautiful women in the world, playing your lute and thanking God for your skill! If there’s anyone locally who would already know these things, I expect John Young (our most colourful local historian) is our man. I don’t think he ever left a stone unturned while he learned his local facts, and there’s no better man to spin a good yarn either. I stumbled upon these facts myself in a book called “The Stolen Village” by Des Ekin, a fascinating book about the time more than a hundred people were taken from their beds one midsummer’s night in 1631 and brought to the slave market in Algiers. The book is gripping, and I was amazed at how much could be known about ordinary people so far in the past. And some of the most famous people of the last century in America were actually descendents of the pirate captain who raided Batimore! The most amazing tales in the world are true. There must be hundreds of songs that could be written about such things as this, and dozens of movies to be made too. A minister called Devereaux Spratt was taken from his boat as he sailed between Ireland and England in 1641. He held some noisy Christian services in Algiers then, while some of the Irish and English slaves built a little boat to escape in. They got away, and Devereaux Spratt later found his way back to Ireland to become a rector in Michelstown.

I’m off to Michelstown myself next weekend for the Indiependence Festival. I wonder if I’ll run into any of his descendents there! It’s great to have a festival like this so nearby, I’m really looking forward to it. The lineup includes Alabama 3, The Coronas, Delorentos, Jape, O Emperor, Fred, Ladydoll and many more. See www.indiependencefestival.com for more details.

Oh, and keep your diaries free for the Tramore Races in the middle of August too. The Darktown Strutters will play Swing Jazz on Thursday 12 at the finish line after the last race, Liam O Maonlai plays Friday 13, Cathy Davey on Saturday 14 and John Spillane plays on Sunday 15.

(Dungarvan Observer Article 28-7-10)

There are certain places in Ireland which are hidden from the view of common people, but which materialise occasionally to make themselves known for a time. I happened upon such a place the other night on my homeward journey from a mesmerising performance by Robin Williamson at Knocklofty House. I’d been enthralled by songs and stories of magic and mystery from this fine Scottish bard and his harp, and I was still dreaming dreams of it when I was enticed to stop somewhere I had never been before. I lifted the latch and slowly pushed the door open with a long, low creaking sound. It was brighter inside than I had expected, but there was the inviting hum of friendly chatter and the enticing sound of music in the room beyond. I followed the sound until I arrived in a fine old kitchen with chairs by the walls, both soft and hard, and a table or two here and there, laden with drinks. Once in, I was invited to sit, and a melodion was thrust into my hands and I was told to play. I wrestled a tune from the box as it slipped and slid, trying to escape between the notes. By the third tune we’d got to grips with each other, myself and the old box, and the tunes poured freely, my fingers skipping happily up and down the fingerboard. I looked up to find a circle of dancers before me, twirling wildly around the room as I played. Then more instruments joined in, a whistle or two, a harmonica, a voice. Some songs were sung with fantastic stories and immense animation, and a puppeteer sat motionless at the far side of the room with a web of strings in his hands. He controlled the fiddler’s bow, the whistler’s blow and the melodion on my lap. And it was he who raised the arms of the dancers, and he who pulled their legs.

Maybe you too have been to this house, and if you have you’ll surely know it by my story. If you haven’t you may find yourself there some fine night, just don’t ask me for directions. Even if I could remember the way, I’d never say. It’s a secret.

Somewhere else I had never been until lately was Ballyin Gardens in Lismore. There was an open day there last Sunday, raising money for Lismore Mochuda Primary School with all sorts of tea and cakes to keep us happy, and some fine music by my friends, the Watercats. A little later, the Midleton Brass band served us up a medley of mellifluous melodies. The Gardens are splendid, with wonderful views of the Blackwater river. The place is well worth a visit the next time the opportunity arises for you.

Later this week, get yourself off to Clonmel and check out Caroline Moreau & The Café Chantant Choir on Friday at 8pm at Old St. Mary’s Church (€12), or maybe Mick Flannery at 8.30pm in O’Keefe’s. There’s lots going on for the Junction Festival all this week, check it out at www.junctionfestival.com.

If you have an event which you would like to have mentioned or reviewed for this column, please contact Ormy on 086 3634005 or info@sounds.ie.

Ormy is a musician who plays regularly all around the country, both as a solo performer and as part of the popular Cork-based band “The Darktown Strutters”. By day he teaches guitar, runs a busy guitar repair business in Lismore, and actively promotes live music all around the South East. See www.sounds.ie for more information.

Time is flying by at a terrible rate and the Summer festivals are upon us again already! The ‘First of the Summer Wine’ in Tramore and the ‘Clancy Brothers Festival’ in Carrick-on-Suir have already passed, and coming soon we have  Clonmel’s ‘Junction Festival’ followed by Waterford’s ‘Spraoi’.Some highlights of the Junction festival include Robin Williamson, the great Scottish harper and storyteller and founding member of the Incredible String Band; Cathy Davey, whose new album ‘The Nameless’ is getting a whole lot of attention from the media; the festival also features Mick Flannery, Gavin Glass, Kila, Republic of Loose and the Hypnotic Brass Ensemble among the many events planned. At the end of July, Spraoi will take over the city of Waterford with music and colourful parades.

Soon Oxegen will be upon us, then we have Michelstown’s Indiependence festival to look forward to and before we know it it’ll be time for Electric Picnic again and very soon after that it’ll be back to school time.

Where is the time going? Have a read of ‘The New Policeman’ by Kinvara based author Kate Thompson for a theory on the lost time involving music, fairies and Tír na nÓg among other things…

Ormy is a musician who plays regularly all around the country, both as a solo performer and as part of the popular Cork-based band “The Darktown Strutters”. By day he teaches guitar, runs a busy guitar repair business in Lismore, and actively promotes live music all around the South East. See www.sounds.ie for more information.

Music is an adventure. It entices us, inspires us and takes us to places we couldn’t otherwise go. Dreams often come when we play or hear music. Sometimes we get little wispy daydreams, and sometimes a song can take us on a journey to somewhere we have never been before, or can even offer us a moment’s glance inside the mind of another. Songs of the sea have always been a particular favourite of mine. There is something about the sea that calls us like a primal drum. It has a calming influence on us all, rolling and rocking us into soothing sleepy dreams, of far away magical places.

There was once a strain of story called the Eachtra. These were voyages to amazing places, far away over the sea. There’s the voyage of Bran, which brings the hero to Tír na nÓg, the land of youth where nobody ever grows old. After a little while he returned to see how Ireland was faring. The people greeted him as he sailed in, but nobody knew him, though they had heard of him in old stories. One of his men stepped ashore, and his body instantly crumbled to dust. Bran stayed in his boat and had the scribes transcribe his story before sailing back out to sea, never to be seen again. Oisín was another man who went to Tír na nÓg, and I often dream of going there myself some day. The voyage of Ulysses was another fine magical journey that has inspired all sorts of art after it, including James Joyce’s book of the same name. Even the Coen Brothers’ movie ‘Oh Brother, Where Art Thou?’ was loosely based on the Voyage of Ulysses. I have always loved those old stories, and one of my personal favourites was about my namesake St. Brendan, who discovered America long before Christopher Columbus even existed. My favourite part of that tale was when they slept on an island one night, and lit a fire in the morning to cook their breakfast on, and then the island started to move so they quickly jumped into their boats and watched the island swim away…

The Brendan Voyage is a slightly different class of an adventure called an Immram, and who better to feature at this year’s Immrama Festival of Travel Writing in Lismore this weekend than Tim Severin, the man who set off one day in a little boat to prove that the Brendan Voyage was true. Shaun Davey was then inspired by Severin’s voyage, to write a wonderful orchestral suite with the great Liam O’Flynn on the uileann pipes.

And now I must leave you to your own dreams of music and sea, and I’ll leave you with this picture of the Asgard II in Dungarvan. She now lies at the bottom of the Bay of Biscay by the way, but that’s a tale for another day.

If you have an event which you would like to have mentioned or reviewed for this column, please contact Ormy on 086 3634005 or info@sounds.ie.

Ormy is a musician who plays regularly all around the country, both as a solo performer and as part of the popular Cork-based band “The Darktown Strutters”. By day he teaches guitar, runs a busy guitar repair business in Lismore, and actively promotes live music all around the South East. See www.sounds.ie for more information.

(Article from Dungarvan Observer, 9 June 2010)

Article from the Dungarvan Observer, Wed 2 June 2010.

The music industry has been going through some serious changes in the last decade or so. The simple availability of so much music online has caused a huge shift in consumer perception of the nature of it, and the album seems to no longer be King. People may now pick and choose their favourite songs from various albums and artists, and they may even choose not to pay for any of it. ‘Music piracy’ online has become so commonplace in the last few years that the big record companies have been struggling to keep up. Having such a huge catalogue at our fingertips is nothing short of amazing. Recording technology has also advanced with massive strides in recent years, and just about anybody can record an album these days (although that doesn’t necessarily mean that they should)… When viewed in a positive light, this is a great unshackling, offering the freedom to create whatever, wherever and whenever the artist chooses.

The music business was never exactly a stable entity. Over the centuries, musicians’ major income sources have shifted several times. Money came at various stages from the church,  from rich private patrons and from the public in various ways. In the time of JS Bach, composers were considered tradesmen, and by the time of Beethoven they were considered artists to be revered.

We have only had recording technology for about a century. In a mere hundred years we have come a long way from fragile wax cylinders and 78s through the later vinyl, tapes and CDs. We came through a time when everything hinged on the say-so of a few record company executives who could pump money and marketing into your rocket to stardom, or sink your ship in an instant. Now we have Grooveshark and Spotify, Myspace and Facebook, Youtube and iTunes; now we have personal podcasts and blogs and ipods; now musicians have the freedom to steer their own ships of fortune through treacherous waters and hope to make it to the other side without getting tangled in nets and webs on the way. We’re striding, technology-wise, with leaps and bounds at an unbelievable pace. Where will we end up?

In the murky waters of the music world, the major record companies might be seen by some as sharks looking for prey, but they can also be seen as the ones with the connections and money for serious global marketing to make someone a ‘star’. It was companies like these who created ‘pop’ music in the first place, through all sorts of marketing strategies and manipulations where the performers are sometimes just pretty pawns. But what would happen to the music industry without them? We may soon find out…

Congratulations to Mary Kelleher in Lismore, who has won a pair of tickets for the First of the Summer Wine festival at Tramore Racecourse this coming Saturday, featuring Imelda May, Jerry Fish and the Mudbug Club, Scullion and more.

Also this Saturday and Sunday, Opera lovers will be coming in droves to the beautiful surroundings of Lismore Castle for an exquisite production of Bizet’s Carmen, featuring Irish mezzo Fiona Murphy, American tenor Richard Crawley and orchestration by Redmond O’Toole in a production by Dieter Kaegi (of Opera Ireland).

For trad lovers the Fleadh hits Ballyduff again this weekend, featuring some of the finest players around. Contact Tom Hyland for more info (086 820 8242).

Let’s hope for good weather. I’ll be playing swing jazz with the Darktown Strutters for the weekend at the Murphys Cork Oyster Festival at the Rising Tide in Glounthaune.

If you have an event which you would like to have mentioned or reviewed for this column, please contact Ormy on 086 3634005 or info@sounds.ie.

Ormy is a musician who plays regularly all around the country, both as a solo performer and as part of the popular Cork-based band “The Darktown Strutters”. By day he teaches guitar, runs a busy guitar repair business in Lismore, and actively promotes live music all around the South East. See www.sounds.ie for more information.