Sounds

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)

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.