Christy Moore, Glen Hansard : The Auld Triangle (Hail St Patrick 4)

Jingle Jangle.

Hungry Feelings.

Jingle Jangle.

The longing for Home.

Jingle Jangle.

The longing for love.

Jingle Jangle.

Brendan Behan.

Dominic Behan.

Dublin Men

Mountjoy.

A Song for Ireland.

And the auld triangle, went jingle jangle
All along the banks of the Royal Canal
All along the banks of the Royal Canal

Amazing that Glen hasn’t featured on The Jukebox before.

As you can see he’s a charismatic performer who has no problem working a crowd and getting every last drop of feeling from a well worn song.

Check out his covers of songs by Bob Dylan and Van Morrison which are notable for the ‘let’s give it the full lash lads!’ approach he brings to hallowed classics.

Christy Moore is more than an icon of Irish Folk Music he’s a national treasure.

Over the decades Christy has developed tremendous song craft bringing acute emotional intelligence and dramatic intensity to lyric and melody.

His version of The Auld Triangle has the echo of the prison corridors and is haunted with hungry feeling.

And the auld triangle, went jingle jangle
All along the banks of the Royal Canal

All along the banks of the Royal Canal

When it comes to haunting voices I know of no combination of writer and actor to equal Samuel Beckett and Jack MacGowran.

Beckett’s prose has such wonderful rhythmic pace and poise which MacGowran performs with luminous feeling.

Jingle Jangle.

Hungry Feelings.

Jingle Jangle.

Jingle Jangle.

Blog Break :

Thankfully I’m well and safely hunkered down in rural seclusion. This gives me the opportunity for deep listening and reading without, immediately, thinking about turning those experiences into a Jukebox Post.

So, for a while, there will be no new Posts here.

But! There are 388 Posts here for you to explore.

Everything from Amazing Rhythm Aces to Frank Zappa.

Please take a ramble round The Jukebox Archive.

Stay Well.

Mary Black, Luke Kelly : A Song for Ireland (Hail St Patrick 3)

Tall Towers.

Falcon Nests.

Twisted Rocks.

Summer Sunsets.

Mary Black.

Soul Singing.

A Song for Ireland.

Drinking in the Pub all day.

Fiddler play your Reel.

Stand on the beach at Dingle.

Atlantic Bass and Galway Salmon.

Living on the Western Shore.

Luke Kelly.

The Voice of The People.

A Song for Ireland.

Ireland has been blessed with some extraordinary Singers.

Mary and Luke sing with natural authority.

Singing songs all their lives.

Silver songs of Freedom.

Songs for Ireland.

Louis MacNeice’s long autobiographical Poem, ‘Autumn Journal’ has had a prominent place on my shelves for more than 50 years now (I was a precocious Poetry devotee).

Today I feature two exquisite shorter poems which demonstrate his technical accomplishment and plangent imagination.

… I am not yet born; provide me
With water to dandle me, grass to grow for me, trees to talk

to me, sky to sing to me, birds and a white light
in the back of my mind to guide me.

And ain’t it the truth ….

It’s no go the merrygoround, it’s no go the rickshaw,
All we want is a limousine and a ticket for the peepshow.
Their knickers are made of crepe-de-chine, their shoes are made of python,
Their halls are lined with tiger rugs and their walls with head of bison.

If you are Irish or know someone who is Irish or of Irish heritage (and that’s all of you!) please share these Hail St Patrick Posts as widely as possible.

Paul Brady, Arty McGlynn, Matt Molloy : Crazy Dreams (Hail St Patrick 2)

Traditional Irish music demands far more than mere instrumental virtuosity from its practitioners.

What is demanded is cultural and spiritual engagement with the spirit of the music combined with deep listening to fellow musicians.

No better men to prove the point than Paul Brady and Arty McGlynn.

Paul Brady has featured here several times before as befits a master musician, songwriter, singer and performer.

Arty McGlynn, who sadly died recently, will be less well known to those who are not Irish music aficionados.

Arty, who I saw grace the stage many tines with Van Morrison, was by universal acclaim the premier guitarist in the traditional music world.

He seemed always able to find exactly the right parts to play both as a soloist and as a supportive accompanist.

Anyone playing with Arty was in the very best of company.

The clip below is from a 1976 TV Show and showcases Paul Brady’s great song Crazy Dreams before it had that title and before it was recorded with a rhapsodic full band electric arrangement.

Magnificent as that version remains I always wished the acoustic version below had been officially issued.

It doesn’t get any better !

Now let’s let Arty delight us with scintillating solo a Guitar.

To add to our revelries let’s now introduce master musicians Matt Molloy and John Carty

Sometimes a session opens up glorious musical vistas undreamed of before the first note was launched into the innocent air.

If you ever find yourself at such a session find yourself a good seat and settle in for the evening and let the magic do its work.

Now for some Poetry.

Bernard O’Donoghue has been a distinguished academic at Oxford University for many decades.

Yet, as his poems attest, imaginatively and emotionally he has always drawn nurture and inspiration from his Irish roots.

O’ Donahue’s poems are deeply felt and fully realised.

An architecture of the spirit.

There is an affecting spareness and reticence in tone which may owe much to his immersion in classical and medieval poetry.

The old thin ache you thought that you’d forgotten-
More smoke, admittedly than flame;
Less tears than rain. And the whole business
Neither here nor there, and therefore home.”

This Post Dedicated to the music and memory of Arty McGlynn.

Ar dheis Dé go raibh a anam (May his soul be seated on God’s right hand)

Dolores Keane, Maura O’Connell : Teddy O’Neill (Hail St Patrick 1)

Well here in the South Downs March did indeed come in like a Lion.

A very angry Lion.

Storm force 11 tree felling, roof lifting, banshee howling winds.

Field flooding, roof rattling, better build your Ark now! torrential rain.

Still, we hunkered down, turned the Hi Fi high and the lights down low and emerged blinking into the revelation of a sunny day.

And, here at The Jukebox March always ushers in another celebration of Ireland’s stupendous contribution to art and culture.

So, without further ado let’s call up the majestic voice of Dolores Keane and surrender to her Emotional Force 12 version of, ‘Teddy O’Neill’.

The pain in my heart was too deep to conceal …

You would think after hearing Dolores sing in such an imperious manner that no other singer would dare to take on Teddy O’Neill.

But, true artists, and Maura O’Connell is a true artist, know that the best compliment you can pay a giant presence in your own field is to admire, reflect and then do otherwise.

Listen to Maura’s miraculous glowing vocal, here with Folk Legends De Dannan.

There is a dying ember tenderness that deeply stirs the heart.

All dark and silent … no piper … no reel …

Ah, Teddy, Teddy, to have stirred such dreams.

Such Dreams.

Our opening tip of the hat to Ireland’s poetic treasury is from Michael Hartnett who previously featured here with his mystic, ‘Necklace of Wrens’.

When the wren landed on Michael his grandmother soberly told him that this was a sign he was going to be a Poet.

When it comes to Poetry many are called but very few are chosen.

Michael Hartnett heard and responded full heartedly to his call and the rich harvest of his works demonstrate that he was indeed chosen.

Inchicore Haiku was a return to the English Language after many years of writing solely in Irish.

He was a great Poet in both languages.

Sanctifying grace.

Sanctifying grace.

The gift of Ireland to History.

Ry Cooder, Keith Richard (never forgetting Ike & Tina) : It’s Gonna Work Out Fine

Sometimes the simplest questions are the hardest to answer.

Who do you say that I am?

When will the war be over?

Is he a good man?

How deep is the Ocean?

Do you love me?

Where are last year’s snows?

Where is your treasure?

Will everything be all right – in the end?

Ry Cooder a certified Jukebox favourite for the consistent brilliance of his guitar playing and his unerring taste in songs.

If it’s all right with Ry it’s all right with me!

Tim Drummond, Jim Keltner and David Lindsey lock in and you can be sure it’s gonna work out fine.

Ry hits and sustains that sweet tone and endless glowing landscapes open up before us.

I’m wagering Ry first heard the song via the barn burning 1961 version by Ike & Tina Turner.

That enough steam heat for ya?

There’s a tangled story behind the authorship and production as was so often the case in the Wild West like music business of those days.

The main songwriter was certainly Rose Marie McCoy.

Sylvia Robinson and Mickey Baker were in the studio (indeed they had recorded their own version in 1960) urging on Ike and The Ikettes.

Tina, being a force of nature, needed no urging on just letting loose!

A million or more record buyers agreed.

Manfred Mann, the man and the group, knew R & B history and knew how to marshall instrumental and vocal forces to delight the pop pickers of 1964.

Paul Jones vocals always oozed charm especially when surrounded by the shimmering warmth of Manfred’s keyboards.

The groups debut LP is one of the true highlights of the British Beat Era.

If you haven’t got it order it today!

Now Keith Richard started out as your dangerous older brother before becoming your what’s he done now the scoundrel uncle and now he’s everyone’s I’ll tell you a story of my young days you just won’t believe grandad.

All the while he’s cranked out the riffs that are permanent fixtures in Rock ‘n’ Roll hearts.

Ain’t an R&B, Blues, Soul or Country song from the golden era that ol’ Keith don’t know and can’t figure out a crunchy guitar part for.

So when he hooked up with old friend/flame Ronnie Spector it was not surprising they hit on Work Out Fine as a vehicle to highlight their shared history while having a right royal rollicking time!

Keith’s got the licks and Ronnie’s got the pipes.

Darlin’ …….

Will the labourer have his rest?

Who will comfort the mourning?

Who will feed the hungry?

Has the salt lost its savour?

How many roads must a man walk down?

What will I do to so things will work out fine?

Notes :

This Post for Don Ostertag, true friend of The Jukebox and teller of the best tales about the theatre and music worlds you’re ever gonna hear. Check out his Off Stage Blog on WordPress.

Other versions of Work Out you might enjoy are by The Spencer Davis group featuring Steve Winwood and a very soulful instrumental by Duke Levine.

If this is your first visit to The Immortal Jukebox you are very welcome here.  Explore the 300 plus Posts in the archive! Visit often.

Keith Jarrett : Somewhere Over The Rainbow (The Blue Hour)

Stars withdrawing from the night sky.

Buffeting winds blowing the heart open.

Old Winchester Hill.

The Blue Hour.

Iron Age Forts.

Bronze Age Barrows.

Ghostly legions marching by.

Corn Buntings and Lapwings.

Skylarks and Linnets.

Yellow Hammers.

Stone – curlews.

A glimmer of sunlight greeting the ghosts, the birds and me.

Butterfly flutterings.

Marbled White.

Meadow Brown.

Chalkhill Blue.

The Blue Hour.

Dreams that you dare to dream.

Clouds far behind.

Birds fly over the rainbow.

Once and forever in a lullaby.

Once and forever.

Keith Jarrett.

A meditative musician.

A perpetual pathfinder.

Rediscovering, reimagining, recreating, the almost, almost, forgotten land of the untroubled heart.

Soaring with Bluebird and Skylark.

The Song of The Blue Hour.

Hold it in your Heart.

John Fogerty (Creedence), Bruce Springsteen & Bob Seger : Who’ll Stop The Rain?

Sometimes when it rains it really pours.

Really Pours.

Drumming all night long.

Slashing through the sky all day long.

Falling, falling, on the school yards and the grave yards.

Falling, falling on the lost and the lonely.

Sometimes it really, really pours.

Falling on the outcasts and the refugees.

Falling relentlessly on Hank Williams as he walks purposefully down the lost highway.

Longer than the memory of man the rain has been falling down.

Mysterious and Merciless.

Falling down.

Falling down.

On Pharaoh and Caesar.

On the Saints and the Sinners.

Who’ll stop the rain?

Who’ll stop the rain?

A mysterious and alluring fable lasting barely 150 seconds which you will never sound the depths of even if you have 150 years for the task.

John Fogerty as the dark eyed seer alerting the tribe round the campfire to the signs and rhythms all around them if they would but attend to them.

His vocal and guitar is lit with ancient lore brought fatalistically to the present.

Lashed to the mast of John Fogerty’s obsessive imagination brother Tom, Stu Cook and Doug Clifford sail on into the unknown immensity ahead.

Bruce Springsteen from his youth recognised the primal power of John Fogerty’s songs with Creedence.

He also was struck by their mythic charge and insights into American history and contemporary society.

And they always had a dynamite riff!

The Boss also had that shiver looking out on, standing under, the still falling rain.

He knew there was a darkness that no one can evade.

Learning his trade and reflecting on his own and his nation’s experiences he understood that songs, if written and performed with craft and commitment, could provide shelter from the storm.

Who’ll stop the rain?

Good men through the ages though they know the rain will always fall still look to find the returning sun.

Bards and medicine men meet in colloquy reminding themselves of the insights of their vocations.

Aeons of songwriting and performing lore are distilled in this miraculous recording by John Fogerty and Bob Seger.

Impossible to say which voice is more aged in the wood.

Together they stand, shoulder to shoulder, as the hard rain tumbles from the sky.

Their is balm in the fellow feeling they show each other and us all as they sing.

Who’ll stop the rain?

Long as I remember …

The rain will never stop as long as the world turns.

All we can do is offer each other shelter and believe, no matter how sodden we become, in the reviving warmth of the sure to return sun.