Description
NOW OUT OF STOCK
(but soon available as mp3 downloads)
Péire Stróicthe [“A Torn Pair”]
Seoirse & Peadar
There is more of a sit-down, laid-back quality to this Cellar Club set – gentler guitar picking and fewer plectrums! Even Peadar’s accordion takes a back seat throughout, with the exception of The Fling of the Fairies, which must have wakened up a few punters when it finally came! Not that this set is boring. Far from it. The “Torn Pair” (how aptly named they are!) didn’t just tire of the lively pub selections that had set the hills of Donegal alight two years previously. This is a pleasant aberration into – for them – previously uncharted waters: from Carole King to John Lennon to the Kinks and back home again to Lannigan’s Ball. And listen to that bodhrán and those vocal harmonies in the latter! Most of these songs are for the thinking drinker. I jest of course. But the slightly more reflective songs are exactly what you need the night following a boosey one when all you want to do is to just sit there and let the music clear your head as you sip your Lucozade.
I understand from Seoirse that there was an 18th birthday party going on at the time of the recording and that some of the selections the duo played were requests that the revellers had sent up. And weren’t they dutifully performed with an ease of execution rare among musicians these days? There was almost a respectful folk club atmosphere in the Cellar Club that evening. Party?
This album is eminently listenable and I keep pressing the repeat button to hear it all again! Such a talented pair…such a torn pair! But only torn between choices of music
(“ Will we give them Imagine or Dirty Old Town?. Arragh, we’ll do the Beamish song!”)
Oisín Gallagher
Donegal Music Scene (1990)
Péire Stróicthe: Gaelic for “a torn pair” (pronounced perestroike). This is perhaps a reference to the incumbent music duo’s rough and ready appearance. Seoirse did have a hole in the knee of his denims once, which he claims to have been the first designer jeans in existence. He didn’t patent them though. The music on this disc, stylistically speaking, might be slightly stróicthe, but “economic and social restructuring under Gorbachev” it isn’t. That was Perestroike. Enjoy! Seoirse & Peadar did.
Recorded live in The Cellar Club, Mountcharles, Co. Donegal, 1989
Production: Seoirse Ó Dochartaigh
Engineer: Ciarán McNamara
Notes: Peter Petrie
All accordion & bodhrán tracks arr. P. MacArdghail
All tracks arr. Seoirse Ó Dochartaigh IMRO, PRS, MCPS © & p , except tr. 1 Cop. Con.; tr. 2 Screen Gems EMI Music; tr.4 Campbell Connellly; tr. 5 Robbins Music Corp.; tr. 7 BMG Music Publishing; tr. 9 Carlin Music Corp. & tr. 14 . Cop. Con.
This is a recording made during various sessions in the Cellar Club in 1989, two years after the duo’s debut recording there. The handful of popular 60s and 70s songs do not require any comment, but some others do…
The Trees by Gweebarra Bay Seoirse adapted here a song written by Bill Staines which was set in the prairie states of America. A little push and shove in the lyrics localized it to west Donegal. The essential message in the song is still unchanged: a person’s right to absolute freedom.
Leaving The land is a touching account of an émigré couple’s struggle against all the odds in the Australian outback. It was written by Scotland’s great song-writer Eric Bogle, now domiciled down under.
Fling of the Fairies is a cover name for two pieces of music: first, an anonymous guitar solo called Romanca, which might be French in origin: and secondly, a unique version of an Irish dance tune called The King of the Fairies, which begins quietly enough but ends in a Fling!
A Girl Called Fleur was a commission Seoirse received for the soundtrack of a film made in Donegal called “Fleur” by film-maker Dietrich Bohnhorst. The film also drew on several tracks from Seoirse’s album “Slán agus Beannacht”.
“Beamish” ag Ól The punning title hits the mark. It’s a drinking song from Cork where they drink copious amounts of a beer brand called Beamish. Beamish is also the exact pronunciation of the verb bímís (let’s be…). The correct title of the song is Bímís ag Ól (Let’s be drinking). A very popular song in the Cork Gaeltacht of Cúl Aodha. The air is traditional but the words were written (and probably on beer mats) by Seán Ó Riada, Micheál Ó Súilleabháin and Dónall Ó Liatháin.
Dúlamán na Binne Buí This song was discovered in the early 1970s by Seoirse in an old out-of-print book and passed on to Clannad who recorded it and even named an album after it. It is still performed at their concerts. Dúlamán was later recorded by Donal Lunny, Anúna, Hyper-Borea and a whole host of others. It’s a song about sea-weed and the men who used to hawk it from town to town.
The Flower of Magherally O This beautiful love song owes something to the aisling (dream) genre of Gaelic song. Magherally, Co. Down, was the ancestral home of the Brontë
(O’Pronty) family.
Black Jack Davey An American version of the Raggle Taggle Gypsies. The musicians harmonizing with Seoirse here, and on the next song, are Marian Bradfield and Bernie Quinn.
As I Leave Behind Néidín This is one of Jimmy McCarthy’s most endearing compositions. The “lady” in question here is actually a village in Co. Kerry called Kenmare. In Irish it’s Néidín (Little Nest).
The Trees by Gweebarra Bay
(Bill Staines, adapt. Seoirse Ó Dochartaigh)
He told her he was free, he was as free as any wind;
“Don’t you count on me, for I may not be back again.”
Then she touched him, oh so easy, as if she were but a child
And she whispered soft as willows do and looked at him and smiled.
(Chorus)
She said “I have known the wind, it’s been a friend all my days,
I have seen it dance through the trees by Gweebarra Bay,
And I have known the freedom too in Fintra’s rolling sea,
And they have never left me blue, so play your song for me.”
When morning came he took the road to Letterfad
Starry stars and midnight hours left him feeling twice as sad;
But he’ll say that he is free, that he’s as free as any wind
But he’s feeling differently he’ll not be the same again.
For he sees her face in daytime dreams
And it lingers through the mind.
She still whispers soft as willows do and he listens then he smiles.
(Chorus)
She said “I have known the wind, it’s been a friend all my days,
I have seen it dance through the trees by Gweebarra Bay,
And I have known the freedom too in Fintra’s rolling sea,
And they have never left me blue, so play your song for me.”
You’ve Got a Friend
(Carole King)
When you’re down and troubled
And you need some loving care
And nothing, nothing is going right
Close your eyes and think of me
And soon I’ll be there
To brighten up even your darkest night
(Chorus)
You just call out my name
And you know wherever I am
I’ll come running to see you again
Winter, spring, summer or fall
All you have to do is call
And I’ll be there, yes, I will
You’ve got a friend.
If the sky above you
Grows dark and full of clouds
And that old north wind begins to blow
Keep your head together
And call my name out loud
Soon you’ll hear me knocking at your doors
(Chorus)
Ain’t it good to know that you’ve got a friend?
When people can be so cold?
They’ll hurt you and desert you, and take your soul
If you let them…oh but don’t you let them.
You’ve got a friend, Ain’t it good to know, you’ve got a friend…
Lannigan’s Ball
In the town of Athy one Jeremy Lanningan
Battered away till he hadn’t a pound;
His father he died and made him a man again
Left him a farm and ten acres of ground
He gave a grand party to friends and relations
Who didn’t forget him when come to the wall;
If you but listen I’ll make your eyes glisten
At rows and ructions at Lannigan’s Ball.
(Chorus)
Six long months I spent in Dublin,
Six long months doing nothing at all;
Six long months I spent in Dublin
Learning to dance for Lannigan’s Ball
I stepped out….I stepped in again
I stepped out again….I stepped in again
I stepped out….and I stepped in again
Learning to dance for Lannigan’s Ball.
Meself to be sure got free invitations
For all the nice girls and boys I might ask;
Just in a minute both friends and relations
Were dancing as merry as bees round a cask.
There was lashings of punch and wine for the ladies,
Potatoes and cakes, there was bacon and tay;
There were the Nolans, the Dorans, O’Gradys
Courting the girls and dancing away.
They were doing all kinds o’ nonsensical polkas
All round the room in a whirly-gig;
Till Julia and I soon banished their nonsense
And tipped them a twist of a real Irish gig.
Oh how that girl, she got mad and we
Danced till you’d think the ceilings would fall.
For I spent three weeks at Burke’s Academy
Learning the steps for Lannigan’s Ball.
(Chorus)
The boys were all merry, the girls all hearty
Dancing together in couples and groups
Till an accident happened, young Terrence McCarthy
He put his right leg through Miss Finerty’s hoops.
The creature she fainted and cried “Mile Murder!”
Called for her brothers and gathered them all.
Carmody swore that he’d go no further;
He’d have satisfaction at Lannigan’s Ball.
In the midst of the row Miss Kerrigan fainted
Her cheeks at the same time as red as the rose;
Some of the boys decreed she was painted,
She took a small drop too much, I suppose.
Her sweetheart, Ned Morgan, so powerful and able,
When he saw his fair Coleen stretched by the wall
He tore the left leg from under the table
And smashed all the dishes at Lannigan’s Ball.
(Chorus)
Boys, o boys, ‘tis then there was ructions
I took a lick from young Phelim McHugh
But soon I replied to his fine introduction
I kicked up a terrible hullabaloo.
Old Casey the piper, he nearly got strangled,
They squeezed up his bags, bellows, chanters and all,
The girls in their ribbons they all got entangled
And that put an end to Lannigan’s Ball.
(Chorus)
Leaving the Land
(Eric Bogle)
It’s time to go, Jenny, no need to close the door,
But if the dust gets in the house
It doesn’t matter any more;
You and that dusts have been at war
For far too many years
Now the war is over, Jenny, dear.
(Chorus)
Leaving the land
Leaving the land
Leaving all I’ve ever been
And everything I am –
Leaving the land.
Remember when I brought you here,
Those long bright years ago.
For all that time you’ve been my heart
But this land has been my soul;
Though still the heart beats on,
But, Jenny, dear, the soul is gone.
It’s time to go, Jenny,
Drive quietly down to track;
We’ll never see what lies ahead
If we keep on looking back;
Behind is just an empty house
Old memories and ghosts
And our small dreams gathering dust.
Dirty Old Town
(Ewan McColl)
I met my love by the gas works wall
Dreamed a dream by the old canal
I kissed my girl by the factory wall
Dirty old town, dirty old town
Clouds are drifting across the moon
Cats are prowling on their heat
Springs a girl round the street at night
Dirty old time, dirty old time
I heard a siren from the docks
Saw a train from set the night on fire
I smelt the spring on a smokey wind
Dirty old town, dirty old town
I’m going to make me a big sharp axe
Shining steal tempered in the fire
I’ll chop you down like an old dead tree
Dirty old town, dirty old town
I met my love by the gas works wall
Dreamed a dream by the old canal
I kissed my girl by the factory wall
Dirty old town, dirty old town
Imagine
(John Lennon)
Imagine there’s no heaven,
It’s easy if you try;
No hell below us,
Above us only sky.
Imagine all the people
Living for today
Ah-ha a-a-ah!
Imagine there’s no countries,
It isn’t hard to do;
Nothing to kill or die for,
And no religion too.
Imagine all the people
Living life with peace
You-hou ou-ou-ou!
You may say I’m a dreamer
But I’m not the only one;
I hope some day you will join us
And the world would be as one
(last time:……to live as one)
Imagine no possessions,
I wonder if you can;
No need for greed, no hunger,
A brotherhood of man.
Imagine all the people
Sharing all the world
You-hou ou-ou-ou!
A Girl Called Fleur
You can walk the Champs-Elysée, view the beauties everywhere,
But you’ll never, no you’ll never, see a girl like Fleur;
You can sail to Conemara, you can ramble all through Clare,
But you’ll never, no you’ll never, find a girl like Fleur;
On Monday she’s a dream dressed in lace and velvet green.
On Tuesday she’s in blue by the harbour lights,
In the middle of the week, Napoleon Brandy on the village street,
Or dancing to the castanets by candle light.
She’s a rebel, she’s a rogue, falls in love with every brogue,
But her heart is like a fairy when the moonlight glows;
She’s as flighty as a Papillion in the midday summer sun
And in spring she’s the lily of the valley O.
Take a warning if you can for she breaks the hearts of man.
From Marseilles to Cobh and back to Aranmore;
All the birds of the air and the fishes swimming everywhere
Never saw a damsel like the girl called Fleur.
Lazing on a Sunny Afternoon
(Ray Davies)
The tax man’s taken all my dough,
And left me here just feeling low,
Lazing on a sunny afternoon.
And I can’t sail my yacht,
He’s taken everything I got,
All I’ve got’s this sunny afternoon.
Save me, save me, save me from this squeeze.
I gotta big fat mama trying to break me.
And I love to live so pleasantly,
Live this life of luxury,
Lazing on a sunny afternoon.
In the summertime
In the summertime
In the summertime
My girlfriend’s run off with my car,
And gone back to her ma and pa,
Telling tails of drunkenness and cruelty.
Now I’m sitting here,
Sipping at my ice cold beer,
Lazing on a sunny afternoon.
Help me, help me, help me sail away,
Well give me two good reasons why I oughta stay.
‘Cause I love to live so pleasantly,
Live this life of luxury,
Lazing on a sunny afternoon
In the summertime…
“Beamish” Ag Ól [Bímis Ag Ól]
(Let’s Be Drinking {Beamish})
Tráthnóinín fómhair ar leathtaobh an róid
Do dhearcas an óigbhean mhóthmharach dheas
Is blasta is is cóir do labhair a beól
“Ó téanam ag ól agus díolfad-sa as”
Agus bímis ag ól ‘s ag ól s’ ag ól
Bímis ag ól is ag ‘pógadh na mban
Bímis ag ól is ag rinnce le ceol
Nach aoibhínn an gnó (bheith) dá bpógadh gan tart!
Bhí tábhairne san áit gan mhoill orainn dul sall
Comhluadar galánta ag diúgadh gan stad
Puins dúinn ar bord sea d’órdaigh mo stór
Agus bímis go ceolmhar go nglaochfaidh an coilleach.
Bhí an speirbhean le m’ais go luisnitheach geal
A beola caor-dhearg’, braon branda ‘na glaic
Do phógas a beola ‘s gur fonnmhar a póg
“Tóg bog é, a stúmpa, nó díolfaidh tú as!”
Bhuail fear liom inné is é ag ól cupán tae
Bhí sé lag tréigthe is é breoite go maith
Dá n-ólfadh sé taosc de phoitín Chúil Aodha
Níorbh fhada dó a’ léim is é ‘ tóraíocht na mban.
Sinn sínte go sóch tar éis iomad den ól
Ach ar buille a dó ar an doras bhuail cnag
An Sáirsint ar tóir barrántas nó dhó
Agus d’éalaigh gach geochach thar cloíthe amach.
Dúlamán
Dúlamán na Binne Buí, Dúlamán Gaelach
Dúlamán na Binne Buí, Dúlamán Gaelach
A níon mhin ó sin anall na fir shuirí
A mháthair mhín ó cuir mo roithleán go dtí mé.
Tá ceann buí óir ar an dúlamán Gaelach
Tá dhá chluais mhaol’ ar an Dúlamán Gaelach
Rachaimid ‘un an Iúir leis an Dúlamán Gaelach
Ceannóidh mise bróga daora ar an Dúlamán Gaelach
Bróga breaca dubha ar an Dúlamán Gaelach
Tá bairéad agus triús ar an Dúlamán Gaelach
Ó chuir mé scéala chuici go gceannóinn coir di
Is é an scéala a chuir sí chugam go raibh a ceann cíortha
“Cad é thug tú ‘n na tire?” arsa an Dúlamán Gaelach
“Ag suirí le do níon” arsa an Dúlamán Gaelach
“Chan fhaigheann tú mo níon” arsa an Dúlamán Gaelach
“Bhuel fuadóidh mé í liom,” arsa an Dúlamán Gaelach
Dúlamán na Binne Buí, Dúlamán a’ tSléibhe
Dúlamán na Farraige is Dúlamán a Déididh
The Flower of Magherally O
One pleasant Summer’s morning
when all the flowers were springing O,
Nature was adorning and the wee
birds sweetly singing O,
I met my love near Banbridge town,
my charming blue-eyed Sally O,
She’s the queen of the County Down
the flower of Magherally O,
With admiration I did gaze
upon this blue-eyed maiden O,
Adam wasn’t half so much pleased,
when he met Eve in Eden O,
Her skin was like the lily white,
that grows in yonder valley O,
She’s my queen and my heart’s delight
the flower of Magherally O,
Her yellow hair in ringlets clung,
her shoes were Spanish leather O,
Her bonnet with blue ribbons strung
her scarlet cap and feather O,
Like Venus bright she did appear
my charming blue-eyed Sally O,
She’s the girl that I adore
the flower of Magherally O,
I hope the day will surely come,
when we’ll join hands together O,
It’s then I’ll bring my darling home,
in spite of wind or weather O,
And let them all say what they will,
and let them reel and rally O,
For I shall wed the girl I love,
the flower of Magherally O.
Black Jack Davey
Oh, Black Jack Davey, come riding by
A whistlin’ so merrily,
He made the woods all round him ring
And he charmed the heart of a lady
Charmed the heart of a lady.
Oh, come and go with me, my pretty little one,
Oh, come with me, my honey
I swear by the beard upon my chin
That you’ll never want for money
That you’ll never want for money
Pull off, pull off your high-heeled shoes
All made of Spanish leather
Put on, put on, your low-heeled boots
And we’ll ride off together
And we’ll ride off together.
She pulled off them high-heeled shoes
All made of Spanish Leather
She jumped behind him on his horse
And they rode off together
And they rode off together.
That night her husband he came home
A-lookin for his lady
Her maid she spoke before she thought
Said “She’s been with Black Jack Davey
She’s gone with Black Jack Davey”.
“Go saddle me up my coal-black steed
My white one’s not so speedy
I rode all day and I’ll ride all night
And I’ll overtake my lady
I’ll bring home my lady”.
He rode all night till broad daylight
He came to a river raging
And there he spied his darlin’ bride
In the arms of Black Jack Davey
In the arms of Black Jack Davey.
Pull off, pull off your long blue gloves
All made of the finest leather
And jump behind me on my horse
And we’ll ride home together
And we’ll ride home together
She pulled off her long black gloves
All made of the Spanish leather
She gave to him her lily-white hand
But said goodbye forever
She said good-bye forever.
“Would you forsake your house and home?
Would you forsake your baby?
Would you forsake your wedded love
And go with Black Jack Davey
and go with Black Jack Davey?”.
“Last night I slept in a feather bed
Between my husband and baby
Tonight I sleep on the cold, cold ground
In the arms of Black Jack Davey”.
As I leave behind Néidín
(JimmyMcCarthy)
As I leave behind Néidín
It’s like purple splashed on green
My soul is strangely lead
Through the winding hills ahead
As she plays a melody
On wind and streams for me
(Chorus)
Won’t you remember?
Won’t you remember?
Won’t you remember me?
Won’t you remember?
Won’t you remember?
Won’t you remember me?
And we wind and climb and fall
Like the greatest waltz of all
Float across the floor
Her sweet breath outside the door
And it’s time that I was gone
Cross the silver tear
As I leave behind Néidín
In the hall where we have been
Rhododendrons in her hair
In the mountain scented air
I still feel her spirit song
Cross the silver tear
