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NOW OUT OF STOCK

(but soon available as mp3 downloads)

Seoirse and Peadar – Live in the Cellar Club   

Seoirse Ó Dochartaigh, vocals & guitar

Peadar Mac Ardghail,  vocals &  accordion

 

1. O’ Mahoney’s Reel (arr. S. Ó Dochartaigh & P. McArdle)
2. The Verdant Braes of Skreen (arr. S. Ó Dochartaigh & P. McArdle)
3. Brian Boru’s March (arr. S. Ó Dochartaigh & P. McArdle)
4. The Waxies’ Dargle (arr. S. Ó Dochartaigh & P. McArdle)
5. Biddy Magee (Sean McCarthy)
6. Come Back Paddy Reilly (P. French)
7. Dirty Old Town (Ewan McColl)
8. The Lonesome Boatman (Finbar Furey)
9. Mountains of Mourne (P. French) 4
10. The Pinch of Snuff (arr. S. Ó Dochartaigh & P. McArdle)
11. Brochan Lom (arr. S. Ó Dochartaigh & P. McArdle)
12. Summertime (Gershwin)

Bonus Tracks

13. The Moving Cloud (arr. S. Ó Dochartaigh & P. McArdle)
14. Mo Chailín Bán (arr. S. Ó Dochartaigh & P. McArdle)

 

Production: Seoirse Ó Dochartaigh

Engineer: Billy McArdle

Mastering: Percy Robinson

Notes: Seoirse Ó Dochartaigh

 

Recorded live in The Cellar Club, Mountcharles, Co. Donegal 5^th July 1987, except bonus tracks

All accordion tracks arr. Peadar Mac Ardghail

All tracks Arr. Seoirse Ó Dochartaigh IMRO, PRS, MCPS, © & p except Tr. 5 Sedgeway Co. Ltd.; Tr. 7 Robbins Music Corp.; and Tr. 8 Banshee Music Ltd.   Percy French and George Gershwin are now Public Domain.

 

 

Seoirse & Peadar – Live in the Cellar Club,

At the end of a frenetic summer season in the pubs of South Donegal in 1987, Seoirse Ó Dochartaigh and Peadar Mac Ardghail – much to the delight of their fans – finally pressed the record button on an unrehearsed session. Yes, unrehearsed! A good selection of their vast repertoire was at last committed to tape. A limited cassette run of 200 was rush-released the following November and it instantly sold out to, as Jonathan Swift once wrote, “those who were there and those who were not.”

People in the months ahead started making copies of copies for friends, but then, sadly, when worn-out tapes of the session began to snap from overplay, the CD market came along and The Cellar Club tape became only a memory.

 

What a delight it is now to revisit the Cellar Club (Seamount Hotel, Mountcharles) as MP3 downloads! Yes, it’s true: a Scottish company called All Celtic Music, based in Glasgow, is re-releasing old deleted cassettes, LPs and CDs of Irish and Scottish music and offering either whole albums or individual songs as downloads at give-away rates. www.allcelticmusic.com

 

 

 

1. O’ Mahoney’s Reel

Sergeant O’ Mahoney was a musical cop and he penned this catchy little reel one night while off-duty. Details of his personal life are very scant but his tune was quickly absorbed into Dundalk traditional music circles where the resident high king of music there was Rory Kennedy. And that’s where Peadar picked it up. As far as I am aware, this is the only recording ever made of the reel.

 

 

2. The Verdant Braes of Skreen

I always think of my late father when I sing this song. He grew up close to Skreen. It’s one of those songs that sits very comfortably on an undulating guitar chord sequence. The guitar never intrudes on the melody allowing it to flow naturally. I learned the song from the singing of the McPeake family.

 

3. Brian Boru’s March

As you can hear from the crowd’s reaction, this was one of our “show stoppers”. An Irish Celtic Rock band called Horslips had previously recorded an up-tempo version of this march but we took it the idea a stage further building it into a blistering reel. Some members of our audience on this occasion were staunch Horslips fans, but they certainly got a kick out of our version.

 

4. The Waxies’ Dargle

This has to be one of the great Irish pub songs of all time. The Waxies were Dublin

shoemakers and the Dargle River used to be the place were the gentry of Dublin had their

picnics in the 18^th century. The wit and the sense of fun here is a pure send-up of the

privileged classes. The Waxies’ Dargle was probably just a knees-up in a pub in

Ringsend near The Shelly Banks, were the Waxies used to gather annually.

 

5. Biddy Magee

Some feminist at one of our gigs took a dim view of this song. But she missed the whole point since the male chauvinist pig in the song is the main object of ridicule and not Biddy herself. Even poor Fr. Nagle doesn’t escape the lampoon! Two American friends, Peter Petrie and his wife Lynn, were present at this recording session, sitting in the front row (you can hear them laughing throughout). I asked Lynn afterwards if, as a female, she found the song offensive, but she thought it was just good fun. Sadly, both Peter and Lynn have since passed away.  Peadar is wearing his singer’s hat here.

 

6. Come Back Paddy Reilly

To take the bad taste of Biddy Magee out our mouths we launched straight into this warm-hearted Percy French classic. French was a Victorian troubadour from Roscommon whose humour – according to one esteemed music critic – was totally wasted on English people! French’s tongue-in-cheek wit, he felt, was so close to Irish stereotyping that it could easily have been misread. Irish stereotyping originated in England.

The Paddy Reilly of the song was Percy’s favourite jarvey (old-time taxi driver).One day Paddy was hired to take some emigrants to the boat in Dublin and, on the spur of the moment, decided to join them, tying up his pony and trap on the grass verge. He never retuned to Ballyjamesduff

.

7. Dirty Old Town

When we began doing the pub circuit in Ireland in the mid-1980s our aim was to bring as many good traditional songs and tunes as possible to a scene that, in all honestly, could be rather dire at times. Occasionally we introduced songs that pandered to popular tastes but we actually ended up enjoying them. Dirty Old Town was one such song. Many people in Ireland believed this to have been an Irish folksong, which I’m sure would have pleased its author, Ewan McColl, no end!

 

 

 

8. The Lonesome Boatman

Peadar’s full-steam-ahead reading of the Finbar Furey’s Lonesome Boatman became a firm favourite in Donegal. The local pop-orientated radio station KTOK used to play it almost every day. Ross Podmore, one the djs, told me once he was totally hooked on Peadar’s version.

 

9. Mountains of Mourne

Another Percy French classic. Although set to a genuine traditional Irish tune, we were conscious of the chart-topping hit by Don McLean of the same song when we added it to our repertoire. Our version, hopefully, is a more Irish rendering of the song.

 

10. The Pinch of Snuff

This reel comes from the great Doherty family of fiddlers from Co. Donegal. John Doherty was a remarkable musician who could play with ease in any key, even in a key with four or five sharps or flats, while most of his contemporaries rarely ventured outside the basic keys of  G & D. The Pinch of Snuff – one of John’s reels – changes key three times! This used to be our official finale, but usually we went on playing till they threw us out!

 

11. Brochan Lom

Wattery Porridge! This piece of Scottish mouth music was always popular at our gigs. I think it was from the singing of that great Scottish duo Robin Hall & Jimmy McGreggor that we took it. Always a good song for a short encore.

     

12. Summertime

Another encore piece. We began doing this on tour in Germany in 1986 quite by accident. I had broken a guitar string during a wonderful concert in Herten Castle and Peadar stepped in with his version of Summertime. Appropriately, it was a beautiful summer’s day and the audience spontaneously started clicking fingers in perfect time to the music. The atmosphere in the Cellar Club was equally magical, but no sunshine this time, only tobacco smoke!

 

Bonus tracks

(Recorded during the official launching of the above album in Nov 1987)

 

13. The Moving Cloud

This is an opus number from the catalogue of Donegal fiddling maestro, Neilly Boyle of the Rosses.  Neilly recorded many 78s while living in America in the 1930s and The Moving Cloud reel may well have been one of them. It became popular again in the Rosses mainly through Peadar’s spirited treatment.

 

14. Mo Chailín Bán

Peadar and I were teachers in the Irish College at Ranafast (in the Rosses) for many years.

This song – My Fair-haired Girl – was often performed there and our version became a

much requested song on Raidió na Gaeltachta for whom it was recorded. It has never been

released on a commercial disc before.

 

The Verdant Braes of Skreen

1

As I roved out one evening fair

By the verdant braes of Skreen

I set my back to a hawthorn tree

To view the sun in the west country

The dew on the forest green

2

A lad I spied near our burn-side

And a maiden by his knee

And he was as dark as the berry brown red

And she all wae and worn to see

All wae and worn to see

3

“Come sit ye down on the grass” he said

“On the dewy grass so green

For the wee birds all have come and gone

Since I my true love have seen,

Since I my true love have seen”

4

“Oh, I’ll not sit on the grass” she said

“And be no love of thyne

For I hear you love a Connacht maid

And your heart’s no longer mine” she said

“Your heart’s no longer mine”

5

“Oh, I’ll not heed what an old man says

For his days are well nigh done

And I’ll not heed what a young man says

For he’s fair for many’s a one” she said

He’s fair for many’s a one”

6

But I will climb yon high, high tree

And I’ll rob that wild bird’s nest

And back I’ll bring whatever I do find

To the arms that I love best” she said

“To the arms that I love best”

7

As I roved out one evening fair

By the verdant braes of Skreen

I set my back to a hawthorn tree

To view the sun in the west country

The dew on the forest green

 

 

The Waxies’  Dargle

1

Says my oul’ one to your oul’ one

“Will you come to the Waxies Dargle?”
Says your oul’ one to my oul’ one

“Sure I haven’t got a farthing.”
We went down to Monto town to ask Young Phil McArdle
But he wouldn’t give me a half a crown for to the Waxies Dargle

(Chorus)
What will ye have? Will you have a pint?
I’ll have a pint with you sir
And if one of ye doesn’t order soon
We’ll be thrown out of the boozer.
2

Says my oul’ one to your oul’ one

“Will you come to the Galway Races?”
Says your oul’ one to my oul’ one

“With the price o me old man’s braces”
I went down to Capel Street to the Jew-man moneylender
But he wouldn’t give me a couple o bob on me oul man’s red suspenders.

 

 

Biddy Mc Gee

 

When I was young and in me prime

I counted Biddy Mc Gee

A fine big strapping’ lump of women

And she stood about three foot three

Her father was a mean oul’ bugger

He had plenty o’ gold and land

But he reard up dog rough the dirty, wee, miserable, rottin, oul lugger

When I asked him for his daughter’s hand

 

It was then I decided for my sake

That the two of us should elope

So I borrowed a ladder from Mickey o’ Brien

And 20 yards o’ good, strong, strapping rope

I stuck the ladder up to Biddy’s Boudoir

That’s French for a woman’s bedroom

But the ladder broke and the whole 20 store

Fell down me on me buckin head!

 

So I threw her into the ass and cart

And for the clergy we set out

And I found Fr. Nagle down in Jackie’s pub

With his head in a bucket  o’ stout.

Well he looks at me with his bleary oul’ eyes

And looks Biddy up and down

Isn’t a pity me son, I’m dying o’ the drought.

Will you buy me a bottle o’ stout?

“I’ll only charge you half a crown”

 

“Well do you take this fine big, strapping, lump of a woman?

To be your lawful wedded wife?

Will you feed her on cabbage and bacon and spuds?

For the rest of her natural life?

And when the icy winds blow round her legs

Will you guard her from the chill?

(Will you buy me another bottle o’ stout?

I’m dying o’ the drought)

“Be Jasus, father I will”

 

Now we’ve been married for 20 long years

And I don’t regret one day

And that was last Wednesday fortnight

She told me she was in the family way

I threw her into the ass and cart

And she landed like a sack

And I brought her back to her oul’ father

And I said “listen here, you dirty, rotten, miserable oul son of a bloody… so and so

You can have you daughter back!!

 

 Come Back Paddy Reilly 

 

O The Garden of Eden has vanished they say,

But I know the lie of it still;

Just turn to the left at the bridge of Finea,

And stop when half-way to Coothill.

‘Tis there I will find it; I know sure enough.

When fortune has come to my call.

Oh! the grass it is green around Ballyjamesduff.

And the blue sky is over it all;

And tones that are tender, and tones that are gruff

Are whispering over the sea,

“Come back Paddy Reilly, to Ballyjamesduff,

“Come home, Paddy Reilly, to me”.

 

My mother once told me that when I was born,

The day that I first saw the light,

I looked down the street on that very first morn,

And gave a great crow of delight.

Now most new born babies appear in a huff,

And start with a sorrowful squall

But I knew I was born in Ballyjamesduff,

And that’s why I smiled on them all.

The baby’s a man, now he’s toil-worn and tough,

Still, whispers come over the sea,

“Come back, Paddy Reilly, to Ballyjamesduff,

“Come home, Paddy Reilly, to me”.

3.

I’ve loved the young women of every’ land­-

That always came easy to me,

Just barrin’ the belles of the Black-a-moor brand,

And the chocolate shapes of Feegee.

But that sort of love is a moonshiny stuff,

And never will addle me brain.

For the bells will be ringin’ in Ballyjamesduff,

For me and me Rosie Kikain!

And all through their glamour, their gas, and their_, guff.

A whisper comes over the sea,

“Come back, Paddy Reilly, to Ballyjamesduff,

Come home, Paddy Reilly to me.”

Dirty old Town

(Ewan Mc Coll)

 

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

 

The Mountains of Mourne

 

Oh, Mary, this London’s a wonderful sight,

Wid the people here workin’ by day and by night:

They don’t sow potatoes, nor barley, nor wheat,

But there’s gangs o’ them diggin’ for gold in the street­

At least, when I axed them, that’s what I was told:

So I just took a hand at this diggin’ for gold.

But for all that I found there, I might as well be

Where the Mountains o’ Mourne sweep down to the sea..

 

I believe that, when writin’, a wish you expressed

As to how the fine ladies in London were dressed.

Well, if you’ll believe me, when axed to a ball,

They don’t wear a top to their dresses at all!

Oh, I’ve seen them meself, and you could not, in thrath,

Say, if they were bound for a ball or a bath-

­Don’t be startin’ them fashions now, Mary Machree,

Where the Mountains o’ Mourne sweep down to the sea.

 

You remember young Peter O’Loughlin, of course-­

Well, here he is now at the head o’ the Force.

I met him to-day, I was crossin’ the Strand,

And he stopped the whole street wid wan wave of his hand.

And there we stood talking of days that are gone

While the whole population of London looked on;

But for all these great powers, he’s wishful like me,

To be back where dark Mourns sweeps down to the sea.

 

There’s beautiful girls here-oh, never mind!­

With beautiful shapes Nature never designed.

And lovely complexions, all roses and crams

But O’Loughlin remarked wid regard to them same:

“That if at those roses you venture to sip,

The colour might all come away on your lip,”

So I’ll wait for the wild rose that’s waitin’ for me­-

Where the Mountains of Mourne sweep down to the sea.

 

Brochán Lom

 

Ó! Brochán lom, tana lom, brochán tana súgháin

Brochán lom, tana lom, brochán tana súgháin

Brochán lom, tana lom, brochán tana súgháin

Brochán lom ‘sé tana lom ‘sé brochán tana súgháin

 

Curfá:-

 

Brochán tana, tana, tana, brochán tana súgháin (x3)

Brochán lom ‘sé tana lom ‘sé brochán tana súgháin

 

Thoisigh Béití ‘scríobadh leite leis an chleite gandail (x3)

Thit an cleite thud an leite ‘s thoighigh Beití a’ damhsa

 

Mo Chailín Bán

1

Ar an bhaile seo tá cailín deas,    ‘

‘Sí cúis mo bhróin ‘s mo chrá;

‘S níl leigheas ann dom ach leigheas an bháis,

Muran féidir liom í a fháil

Is brónach déarach tá mo chroí

Nuair atá mé i bhfad óm’ ghrá;

‘Sí grá mo chroí, ‘sí péarla an domhain

Mo rún, mo chailín bán.

2

Tá a súil níos gile ná an ghrian

Ag soilsiú ins an spéir;

‘Gus is deirge a grua ná an fíon

I ngloiní geala ‘s glé.

Tá a béal níos milse ná an mhil,

‘S a cúilín mín is lán;

‘Sí grá mo chroí, ‘sí péarla an domhain,

Mo rún, mo chailín bán.

3

Tá beagán Gaeilge ag mo ghrá,

Ár dteanga álainn féin;

‘S is binne liomsa guth na mná

Ná ceolta binn na n-éan.

Ag éisteacht lena canúint bhreá

Ó chaithfinn bliain iomlán

‘S ag déanamh comhrá dheas go brách

Lem’ rún, lem’ chailín bán.

4

Cé gur annamh liom-sa a labhraíonn sí

Fós feicim í le háil,

Le dóchas mór go mbeadh sí ‘gam

Mar chéile is mar ghrá.

Níl aici orm ach dímheas fuar,

A líonas mo chroí le crá;

‘Sí fós go deo mo ghrá gan ghó,

Mo rún, mo chailín bán.