Gael force

Irish musicians descend on Boston

by Jeffrey Gantz

The peace process in Northern Ireland may be stalled, but Irish traditional music is in full flight. The Chieftains collected yet another Grammy last month, for Santiago; Clannad and Altan have retrospective albums out. The Riverdance collection (video, CD, tape) has already racked up phenomenal sales figures, and the stage show took home a Grammy of its own; now Michael Flatley's Lord of the Dance is hoping to make a similar score. And as St. Patrick's Day approaches, the musicians are descending on Boston, bringing their new CDs with them. Between now and Monday, you can find a major concert every night.

The Chieftains will be making their usual stop at Symphony Hall this Sunday evening, and they'll surely bring some tunes from Santiago (BMG/RCA), on which they visit their Celtic cousins in Galicia, that region of northwestern Spain whose language is closer to Portuguese than Spanish and whose culture has distinctively Celtic elements (not surprising in view of the ancient trade routes to Ireland). We get unusual instruments: the txalaparta (large wooden planks), trikitixa (a box accordion), rabel (a kind of fiddle), cavaquinho (a Portuguese ukulele), and, of course, the gaita (Galician pipes) of Carlos Núñez -- whose own excellent album, Brotherhood of Stars (BMG/RCA), with the Chieftains and Tríona Ní Dhomhnaill guesting, is just out (check the Celtic honky-tonk of "Dancing with Rosiña" and the Chieftains-led "The Flight of the Earls").

The music ranges from love songs to pipe duels to waltzes to a medieval hymn recorded in a convent opposite the pilgrimage cathedral of Santiago de Compostela -- first a cappella by the Ultreia Choir, then with the lads joining in. There are emigrant excursions to Madrid (Eliot Fisk on Spanish guitar), LA (Linda Ronstadt and Los Lobos doing "Guadalupe"), and Havana (Ry Cooder on mandola), but, opposing the guest-star trend in recent Chieftains albums, this one has the band mostly out on their own, finding new inspiration and as infectiously uninhibited as ever. The centerpieces are a Paddy Moloney piece that started out to be 30-second introduction and grew into an 11-minute "Galician Overture" that's a combination folk song, folk dance, war march, and symphonic national anthem; and the concluding "Dublin in Vigo," an all-out jam session at Vigo's tiny Dublin pub. If you have all 32 previous Chieftains albums, you still need this one.

The delights of Santiago include Paddy Moloney's literate, informative liner notes. The same, alas, cannot be said for Rogha: The Best of Clannad (BMG/RCA). "Rogha," as the liner notes here properly explain, is Gaelic for "choice"; what they don't tell you is that the selection is limited to Clannad's four BMG albums: Magical Ring (1983), Legend (Robin of Sherwood) (1984), Macalla (1985), and Sirius (1987). This middle period saw Clannad moving from dreamy synthesizer washes in Gaelic ("Theme from Harry's Game") and misty Robin Hood ballads ("Together We") to backbeat-heavy pop rockers ("Second Nature," "In Search of a Heart"). The six selections from Magical Ring include Máire Brennan's ethereal renditions of "Tá Mé 'Mo Shuí" and "Thíos Fá'n Cósta"; there's also "Buachaill ón Éirne," from Macalla, so you get some traditional Gaelic to anchor the new-wave Irishry. But the liner notes, apart from a short biography of the band and an attempt, not always successful, at translating the Gaelic titles, are skimpy: no lyrics, no mention of where the songs come from. Unless you're looking for a mid-period Clannad sampler, pass on this one.

If the BMG folks want to know how to put together a retrospective, they should look at The Best of Altan (Green Linnet). Led by Donegal singer/fiddler Maighréad Ní Mhaonaigh since the death of her husband, Frankie Kennedy, in 1994, Altan had a previous "best of," The First Ten Years 1986-1995, out just two years ago; and this one draws on the same albums: Island Angel (six selections), The Red Crow (four), Harvest Storm (three), Horse with a Heart (two), and Altan (one). So it's hardly a must-have. But Green Linnet has thrown in a 30-minute bonus disc from a live show given in Bochum, Germany, in 1989, with three Gaelic ballads from Ní Mhaonaigh -- "Thug Mé Rúide," "Tá Mo Chleamhnas á Dhéanamh," and "Tuirse Mo Chroí" -- that alone would justify purchase; and as usual the group take wing live in a way they don't always in the studio.

The generous main disc includes two engaging children's songs that didn't make it onto The First Ten Years: " 'Sí Do Mhaimeo Í" (backed by didjeridoo) and "Dúlamán" (which Altan play in a skipping 6/8, as opposed to Clannad's driving 4/4). The booklet has some nice color photos, plus lyrics, translations, helpful notes, and information on which albums the songs come from. If you like Altan enough to have all their albums, you don't really need this one. Then again, if you like them that much (and why wouldn't you?), you'll want this for the bonus disc.

If you're looking for something new, Dervish, who played the Burren in Somerville last night, have added At the End of the Day to their previous two releases, Playing with Fire and Harmony Hill (all on the Kells label). This six-piece from Sligo have singer Cathy Jordan leading a traditional line-up of fiddle, flute/whistle, accordion, and an assortment of bouzouki/mandolin-type instruments whose thoughtful plucking creates a folkish tone. Half the tracks on At the End of the Day are songs, including "An Spailpín Fánach" and an English version of "Ar Éirinn Ní Neosainn Cé Hí"; Jordan sounds at times like Ní Mhaonaigh, at times like Dolores Keane. She also plays bodhrán and bones (check the "Davey's" reel on the "Trip to Sligo" set). The performances leave plenty of space for soloing, and these guys can solo; when they all get together, as on "Drag Her Round the Road," they really roll. If you didn't catch them last night, grab all three CDs and hope they come back soon.

Tonight the Middle East will host New York rockers Black 47, who are Irish but not exactly traditional. They take their name from the worst year of the Famine, 1847 (thus this year's 150th-anniversary Famine observances), but as the travel stickers on the cover of their latest CD, Green Suede Shoes (Mercury), indicate, they're rovers, from Vietnam ("My Love Is in New York") to Prague ("Czechoslovakia," wherein our hero goes to the old country to marry his landlord's daughter, Citizen Gerty) to Wexford ("Vinegar Hill" is where in 1798 an English army slaughtered an Irish rebel camp) and Belfast (Long Kesh, the prison where in 1981 "Bobby Sands MP" and nine other IRA members starved to death). "Change Come Slowly" and "Winds of Change" link oppression in Jamaica and Ireland; there's a Gaelic track, "Mo Bhrón," and 44 seconds of traditional Irish playing called "Gerty's Farewell." Waiting back home are "Brooklyn Girls," but also the hell of "Five Points" and "Forty Deuce" (yes, the street).

The line-up is part rock (guitars, percussion), part Irish (uilleann pipes, whistle, bodhrán), part eclectic (trumpet, trombone, saxophones). Larry Kirwan affects a neo-Dylan sing-song, and sometimes the lyrics are Dylan-precious. But if you like your Irish (and other) protest politics with a backbeat, this is for you. Appearing with Black 47 will be Newfoundland rockers Great Big Sea, whose Up (Warner Music Canada) I haven't been able to find; perhaps they'll bring copies to the show.

Cherish the Ladies, who'll be at the Berklee Performance Center tomorrow (Friday) are a very different Irish-American affair. For starters, all six members are ladies. Even more unusual, they boast a piano, which can be seen often enough in Irish country dancehalls (the Cork band Nomos also display a considerable piano presence on their I Won't Be Afraid Any More) but doesn't turn up that much in traveling bands. On New Day Dawning (Green Linnet) Donna Long's instrument dominates, giving the slow numbers a genteel, almost loungy feel (but with poignant harmonies) and the faster ones a barrelhouse stomp. She has a devastating solo piece in "Lord Mayo"; flutist Joanie Madden gets her turn on "Ned of the Hill." At times it all seems almost too pretty, but when on "Within a Mile of Dublin" Siobhan Egan pulls out her bodhrán, the ladies prove they can get down. Aoife Clancy has a strong, forthright voice for the five songs, though her pronunciation on "A Neansaí Mhíle Grá" (which Máire Brennan sings on Clannad in Concert, and Aoife Ní Fhearraigh on Aoife) is unlike any Gaelic I've ever heard.

Clancy is new; former singer Cathie Ryan went solo after just two CTL albums. Her homonymous debut (Shanachie) includes Dougie MacLean's "The Garden Valley" (which Tommy Flemming sings on De Dannan's new Hibernian Rhapsody), her own "Eveline," "When Detroit Was Burning," and "It's a Long Road That Has No Turning," Sean Tyrrell's "The 12th of July" (with conciliatory lyrics by a 19th-century Offaly Presbyterian), and a few traditional songs -- "Ned of the Hill," an English "Dark Moll of the Glen" (sweet but blown away by Ní Mhaonaigh's Irish version on The Red Crow and The Best of Altan), the Gaelic lullaby "Oró Mo Bháidín." Mostly it's easy-listening Irish folk and country, love ballads and gentle protests backed by fiddle, guitar, piano, an occasional touch of uilleann pipes.

Saturday brings Solas and Craobh Rua to the Somerville Theatre. Craobh Rua, from Belfast, bespeak the growing of Ulster traditional bands (there's also the excellent Déanta, from Antrim); the quartet's name refers to the Red Branch warriors of the ancient Ulster tales. Despite the presence of uilleann piper Mark Donnelly, their No Matter How Cold & Wet You Are As Long As You're Warm & Dry (Lochshore) is dominated by the banjo/mandolin of Brian Connolly and the guitar of Jim Byrne (fiddler Michael Cassidy completes the line-up) -- it's Irish folk with touches of fiddle (Cassidy does get to cut loose on "Spellan the Fiddler") and pipes (Donnelly gets his chance on "Haughey's Fort"). Byrne brings his soft light baritone to "Fare Thee Well, Enniskillen," a serious and a humorous love song, and "Aird Uí Chumhaing."

American supergroup Solas don't have a new album out, but their singer, Karan Casey, now has a debut solo disc, Songlines (Shanachie). She has a softer, wispier voice than Cathie Ryan, and more interesting material, including a poignant miscarriage story, "She Is like the Swallow," an a cappella "An Buachaillín Bán" ("The Fair-haired Boy," ostensibly a lover but really Bonny Prince Charlie), and Yeats's "The Song of Wandering Aengus." Back-up includes Seamus Egan, John Doyle, and Winifred Horan, so in effect this is a Solas vocal album, and a pretty decent one -- just a little short at only 42 minutes, and the Yeats setting pales next to what Loreena McKennitt does with "The Two Trees."

Finally, there's Patrick Cassidy's Famine Remembrance (Wind-ham Hill) and Lord of the Dance, whose male star, Michael Flatley, left Riverdance to go out on his own. Cassidy's choral symphony, which was first performed this past Monday at St. Patrick's Cathedral in New York, is, like his Children of Lir, Irish Handel: stately, gorgeous, and without much feel for Irish rhythms. There's nothing specific to the Famine here; it's really an elegy for Ireland. But you couldn't ask for more beautiful music -- it might move even the English.

As for the Lord of the Dance video (PolyGram), I'm sorry to report it's a mess, with its jumpy editing and slow-motion footage; the music is no match for Bill Whelan's, and neither, so far as one can tell, is the choreography. Obviously Flatley thinks he, and not the dancing, was the attraction of Riverdance -- guess again, Michael. The stage show is due here April 27; that may give a better impression. Meanwhile, go watch the original (and Jean Butler) again and reflect that Irish culture hasn't had such a good year since James Joyce wrote Ulysses.