Martin Bridgeman

You know me, I love music in all its forms, in all its beauty. One of the things I love most about it is the unexpected, joyful and uplifting twists and turns it can take in your heart and, if you’re lucky, you get them frequently. 

Another thing is the way that a time and place where you hear music that moves you is also embedded deep within. I have been lucky over the years to be in the many great venues in Kilkenny where the magic appeared, moved, shook, lodged. Sometimes you’re not prepared, you take a punt on a night of music and are rewarded. We’re lucky to have this as part of of the fabric of culture in the this city of ours. At other times you’re given advance notice.

So it was in the past 12 months when I came across Gaeltacht Kilkenny. 

I first heard about this group of musicians from one of their mentors, Seathrún Ó’Casaide. He’s a good friend and a man of inexhaustible enthusiasm for all things musical. He has an unimpeachable musical pedigree himself but he doesn’t make a thing about it. On this occasion, he was as enthusiastic as ever and mentioned that he had been working with a group of young musicians from around Kilkenny and said that they had booked the back room in Cleere’s for their launch gig. 

Seathrún and another fine Kilkenny based musician, Gráinne Ní Ailiin, had been rehearsing and mentoring the group and they had impressed people in the Parade Tower around the St. Patrick’s Day celebrations. The feedback was consistently excellent so I was happy to hear that plans had been hatched for the gig towards the end of April. 

A few posts on social media intrigued me. I noticed some of the surnames, people from the wide musical family in Kilkenny. I heard more about their makeup: young musicians from a variety of musical backgrounds in the county but with their own ideas about traditional music and the Irish language, composing tunes and writing songs about what it was to be that age. The more I heard, the more I was intrigued. 

Time marched on and I had a few days up north, with a few late nights thrown in for good measure. I remembered the gig and made a mental note to send my apologies and yet, there was still a part of me that said I needed to be there. 

We came home on the day of the gig. In to Cleere’s for a chat and a coffee with my son who was handling engineering duties. I wandered in to the back room and was met with a sea of children and parents, buzzing around. A sound check was in full swing. 

I was rooted to the spot. 

The energy was palpable. They were incredibly well rehearsed and polished and that impressed the most on first listen. As they played, I also was able to see that there was also room for each musician to step up, the ebb and flow of the tunes or the songs was fine tuned to let things take their course, serving the tune or the song. There was room for each player and yet there was a clear sound emerging of a group. It’s hard to articulate but you know it when you hear it. I had recently a conversation with a musician about how hard it is to maintain a balance between being good on your chosen instrument, about how you need to find your own path and voice, but at the same time surrendering yourself to the collective. It’s a fine balance and virtuosity alone won’t get you there. You need to listen, be aware, to step up and step back, to focus on the piece.

I saw that in full flow on the stage and it floored me.

I was asked to say a few words on the night and I didn’t have to be asked twice. I hope I did them justice but one point I hoped I’d made well enough was that I felt we were at the start of something, that we’d note this down as a night when things had taken off for them all. Almost out of nowhere I brought in the analogy of the Cavern Club in Liverpool where The Beatles had made their proper city debut.  I know I was caught up in the moment but I still hold to that. This was a night to remember, to see what the buzz was about, to see the reward of the hard work and hours of obvious work. 

Time marched on. There was a composition mentioned, about the Kilkenny hurling team. It made sense. This group of players were mad in to their hurling too. Why not? 

It made its appearance on local radio and I was happy to help steer it through to the right people. Again, a buzz developed. More people asked who they were, wondered if they could be seen anywhere. Word reached RTÉ who were very interested in the sound, the buzz, the story of the song. As the fates decreed, Kilkenny had made their way to the All Ireland finals which was helpful…

More phone calls and emails later and a request came through to perform on the Up Of The Match show. A video was needed, some sense of the visual aspect of the band. Work commenced and culminated in Ballybur. Again, a sea of children, Kilkenny colours all over the house, families coming with siblings, food, arrangements, video and sound equipment all round. 

Throughout it all, the band members smiled, laughed and joked, were their ages and yet when it came time to perform, their concentration was immediate and their focus impressed me again. In the weeks leading up I had been out in the house  and had heard the sound of instruments being played with abandon, all styles, all fired up. It was a joy to be there. Once again I felt the moment, a testament to hard work. 

The night came, they played out live on television, no sign of nerves, rehearsals blended in to the live, their ease apparent, again a testament to hard work. The homecoming performance after the heartache was full on, spirited and a heartfelt tribute to the things Kilkenny people care about. Whether with a hurl or an instrument, once you’ve put in the hard work you’re welcomed. 

I’ve seen them perform on a number of occasions now and another memory has come back when I think about it. I was lucky enough to see The Bothy Band perform and one of my abiding memories was the ease that each player had with their instrument and also how they all blended to gather in to a force of natures when the tunes lifted. I see the same spirit here. The Bothy Band were steeped in to the tradition due to their families and upbringing but were listening to their own choices of other music too. They were able to blend this listening in to their handling of tunes from other generations, capable of looking in and looking out, bringing them to another places, full of respect but recognising the journey they had to take. I see in this group of young people.

I look forward to Friday, January 31st and hope you get to make it.

UPDATE (29/1/2020): It’s no surprise to have just heard that it is now a fully sold out concert. Our secret is out!