Real bed time

She just decided. One night. That was it. No more cot thank you, I'm going to sleep in the big bed. Man. So like her parents with that determination and single-mindedness sometimes it's a bit scarey. But it is a very cute thing. And quite a step in fairness, the first one to moving away from being a baby to a little girl.

We've been to a couple of weddings recently, both in the centre of Brisbane, and both in lovely locations along the river. And I got pretty pissed at both of them so all very enjoyable altogether. For those that may remember it was Kate (who married Sam) and Robbo (who married Claude). All bar Sam were at our wedding. I guess we haven't put up a picture of us for a while, so in case yis forgot what we look like...... that pole really hurt.

So on to other things. When I don't have too much to say, I tend not to say anything for fear of talking crap or just plain and simple boring people. So the blog has been quiet of late. That said, most would know there are few occasions when I have little to say. I was sparked into reminiscing last week as I sat watching some wonderful musicians plying their trade in the Queensland Irish Club nearby (in the city). I got to thinking, while surveying the predominantly over 50 crowd, how did I come to love this flute'n'fiddle stuff? And how come, after 10 years of listening, do I now, again, like to hear the "song" embedded firmly in the midst of the powerful, goosebump and whoop inducing "tunes"?

(Note - song = music with words, tune = instrumental)

A not so short description of my personal trad (traditional Irish music) journey follows, so zone out those who couldn't care less about my indulgence. Growing up, there was the occasional ceili band bit of vinyl lying around which my Dad had managed to either fall upon in his teaching time, or were given by his son who did all his Christmas shopping in a record store and who thought that since the Kilfenora ceili band were from Clare (near enough his Ennis childhood home), played diddly-eye, they were an easy gift selection. Now don't get me wrong, the Kilfenora ceili band were (are?) a wonderful group of musicians, but to me back then, it all sounded like loud bagpipes in a large pot of vegetable stew. So David Soul (aka starsky) and "Don't give up on us baby " remained my number 1 choice as I went to the record player. Did you know that the b-side was an inspirational "Black bean soup" which never made it big strangely enough?

I digress.

The mid 90's saw me in Prague of all places being exposed to trad in the Irish bars occasionally and then a little more closely through the Barleyshakes who adopted a friend of ours while we were there and thus I "rubbed shoulders" with the muso's. At this point songs with words were still all that mattered to me. It was a slow but very certain ascension to the love of the tune. I think it cemented during that trip to Milltown Malby with Kieran for the Willie Clancy week. The word craic was made for occasions such as that. As was Guinness for breakfast and sessions in the dressingroom of a local GAA football club at 3 in the morning. Defining times.

I reckon the fact that over Kierans flat on Capler lived one Alan Doherty, now with the Lord of the Rings soundtrack on his resume, who plays flute like a man possessed and obsessed. Weekend after weekend, the trad would kick in after midnight. 2 choices for Kieran. Complain or join in. Kieran and I drank a lot together back then.

After that, we were hooked on the tunes. Songs became a necessary evil to break our foot stomping momentum. The Bothy Band were the natural hook (though the break songs were just bloody awful, I mean seriously, who sings a song with the lines 'Do you love an apple, do you love a pear.....'?). However they had tunes that we often said were like speed metal trad. The genius of Michael McGoldrick and then Lunasa followed and wrapped it up. No songs. Just tunes lads thanks.

Been a bit of a fan since, as our wedding demonstrated with Lunasa's Kevin Crawford playing through the emotional maelstrom. Being over here can make it hard at times just to stay connected to it all but Lunasa and Grada coming to play this year went a long way. Then last Thursday came along. I kept forgetting the date having read it some time ago in the Irish Echo, and it was only at 4 in the afternoon I remembered that Sharon Shannon, maestro McGoldrick, Dezi Donnelly and Jim Murray were playing that evening. I was knackered and the temptation to go to bed and watch a CSI Miami rerun was tempting. But I got off my lazy arse got in the car and got into the city (in 10 minutes so not really that major a journey).

These 4 musicians are legends in their own right, as individuals. And its not too often that a combo of individuals can produce a band sound but Jaysus holy Mary, these guys do it with ease and obviously have a ball doing it. I was introduced to McGoldrick beforehand, shook the mans hand, thankfully didn't do any damage despite my enthusiasm. "Howarye Mick" I think I said. Then Dezi Donelly asks me "is the Guinness is any good here". Ah jaysus lads, I can't be giving advice to a fiddle virtuoso. Even if it was a Finance question, am sure he'd still know better. Think I said it was drinkable.

Back to the reason for this detour. After 10 years skipping or avoiding the boring ole tune breaks as I'd call them, songs are well and truly back on my radar after hearing a couple of fantastic renditions of well known songs on this bands new Renegade album. I actually skipped tunes to listen to them.

And McGoldrick sings one of them the talented f$cker.