Two CDs

One of the more notorious of RTÉ’s acts of cultural vandalism over the years is the decision to wipe all TV tape of Seán Ó Riada from the archives. Now, An Spailpín is getting worried that the damage is even more extensive than we thought.

Gael Linn, as part of their policy of re-releasing Seán Ó Riada’s albums over the past few years, have released three more, as a triple CD set called Pléaráca an Riadaigh. These are three original studio recordings of Ó Riada at the height of his powers – Reacaireacht an Riadaigh, Ceol na nUasal and Ding Dong. But what’s bothering An Spailpín is a throwaway reference in the sleeve notes to a weekly radio show that Ó Riada did for RTÉ in the sixties. Reacaireacht an Riadaigh, the first of these albums to be recorded, is essentially a collection of the greatest hits of that radio series and if they’ve all been wiped since like the TV recordings – well, it’s a scandal is what it is.

With the country going down the tubes at a rate of knots this Christmas it’s good – if not vital – to be reminded of why it was all worthwhile in the first place. Why the Irish deserved independence; what separated us from the other three kingdoms. And Pléaráca an Riadaigh helps us explain part of it.

Seán Ó Riada is part of the landscape now but it’s always important to remember just how revolutionary his approach was. Irish music had no respect in the general population before him; Ó Riada’s great gift was to be able to show how the ancient airs have their place in the pantheon of world music, before that phrase was even invented. For anyone who wants to know who we are and where we came from Pléaráca an Riadaigh is an essential purchase.

Funnily enough, the sleeve notes are the most disappointing aspect of the whole presentation. Other Ó Riada releases have included full lyrics for the songs in the sleeve notes. This does not, and their loss is keenly felt. All the more so because it is Darach Ó Catháín, not Seán Ó Sé, who does the singing on Reachtaireacht an Riadaigh.

What makes this significant is the fact that Darach Ó Catháin was a sean-nós singer. Sean-nós is the diametric opposite of easy listening music. Sean-nós is hard work. The best way to approach it is to realise just how very old it is – it’s a medieval form of music, really. It’s solo chanting more than singing. It does not record well, and soft chat about sean-nós being the soul music of Ireland doesn’t cut it. It’s a terrible pity that Gael Linn didn’t see fit to print the lyrics, or the words of the pices spoken by Seán Ó Riada himself. Certain hollow men in the media like to speak of “spoken Irish”; An Spailpín is pretty sure that he is not alone in thinking it’s easier when it’s written down.

An Spailpín has not seen John Spillane’s new album, Irish Songs We Learned at School, but it will be very surprising if that isn’t comprehensively annotated. There’s no point otherwise. The song selection is good of course – these are great songs – but the decision to have actual children sing on the record is misguided. The idea is clearly that kids will respond better to kids, but the idea of having the songs sung as well as they can be sung seems the stronger notion to me. Maybe it’s a matter of taste.

Why does it matter in the first place? This is why. If that rotten Carlsberg ad of earlier this year had its protagonist say “Beidh aonach amárach i gContae an Chláir” instead of the rubbish he did come out with, they would have got their point across, got the echo of the schoolroom and shown some respect for the language into the bargain. That was a bridge too far it seems. So three cheers for John Spillane then, for doing his bit ar son na cúise in these dark and empty winter days.






Technorati Tags: Ireland, culture, music, John Spillane, Seán Ó Riada

Voices on the Radio

Jenny Huston was filling in for Gerry Ryan on the mid-morning show on 2FM yesterday. If An Spailpín had his way, La Huston would be on the radio all the time, and Cap’n Gerry would be given his papers.

It could simply be great age of course, but right now Irish music radio seems very grating to An Spailpín Fánach. It is generally my practice to plug in the iPod once I cross the threshold of any Spar or Centra in the city as I attempt to drown out the breakfast shows with Santa Esmeralda’s Don’t Let Me Be Misunderstood, or something similarly sonic. Trading off hearing for sanity, you know. In such a broadcast environment, hearing Jenny Huston’s Saturday evening show, The Annex, is something of a faith restorer.

The blast-from-the-past format isn’t new of course – Larry Gogan had a golden hour that went back to the time of the Tuatha De Danann I believe – but Jenny Huston has what Larry never had, and that’s cred. Larry played the soundtrack to all our childhoods, but he was about as cool as school. Jenny Huston, on the other hand, with that beautiful Canadian timbre in her voice and her sheer joy in spinning the discs, carries her to another level. Listening to the show when there’s a guest presenter just isn’t the same. It’s not coming from the heart without La Huston. A little more variety in the playlists – Jailbreak or Whole Lotta Rosie for the AC/DC slot instead of the perpetual Thunderstruck would be nice – but the show remains a jewel.

I’m told that Jenny also does an Indie show on 2FM but I wouldn’t be too bothered about that. Scrawny looking urchins from Salford feeding back their guitars or rich American college kids sharing their angst with the world before getting a good job with JP Morgan? Not this time, thank you. An Spailpín’s tastes run more towards the classical at this stage, and he’s happy to have Lyric FM’s Evelyn Grant as his tour guide for that.

Evelyn Grant’s musical credentials are strong, but the great thing about her show, as with Jenny Huston’s, is that Evelyn Grant really loves playing these tunes and sharing the music. With Evelyn Grant everything is lovely, just lovely. This can lead her into tricky waters of course – one Christmas she played a request for the prison officers in one of our leading jails and decided to throw in the guests as well, as part of the Christmas spirit. As she was talking though, she realised that if you’re doing seven to ten years listening to the old triangle going jingle jangle it’ll take more than Chopin’s Piano Concerto No 1 in E Minor to cheer you up.

But no matter – Grant is hopelessly in love with the music, and the love is catching. She enjoys playing this piece from a recent French movie called Les Choristes, The Choir, which is exactly her world. Listening to her, you realise that yes, there is such a thing as culture and yes, it is being passed on. Hurrah for Evelyn Grant.

An Spailpín developed his love for radio at night, in the 1980s, when Mark Cagney did the Night Train on Radio 2 as was. The Waterboys’ Spirit, The Doors’ Riders of the Storm, Freddie White singing Guy Clark’s Desperadoes Waiting on a Train – all signature moments. Long gone now, of course, but An Spailpín has great time for Cagney’s fellow Corkonian Lillian Smith, currently doing the weekend Late Date. Lillian Smith has wide and varied tastes – a few months ago she played The Buddy Rich Big Band version of The Beatles’ Norwegian Wood, and it was transcendent.

John Spillane, also from the beautiful city, makes the most of Raidió na Gaeltachta’s new relaxed policy on songs in English after the watershed, and has a wonderful show on Sunday nights. He delights in playing a bizarre recording of one Reverend AW Nix, telling us about who’ll be travelling on the Black Diamond Express Train to Hell. After three minutes, a miserable Spailpín realised not only is he on board, but he could fill at least half a carriage. Check An Speal out sometime you get a chance. It might even do your Gaeilge no harm.






Technorati Tags: Ireland, culture, radio, music, Jenny Huston, Evelyn Grant, Lillian Smith, John Spillane