Paddy Canny, P.J. Hayes, Bridie Lafferty & Peadar O’Loughlin
An Historic Recording of Irish Traditional Music from County Clare
and East Galway
Shanachie
76001; 34 minutes; 2001
Every musical genre has
its own iconography in which certain singers, musicians and bands ascend to a
revered status and the same applies to particular recordings. In the now huge
panoply of Irish traditional releases, some albums have withstood the test of
time and still serve as essential reference points for contemporary musicians.
Examples generally held to fall into this category include the debuts by
Planxty (‘The Black Album’) and The Bothy Band (1975), Molloy/Brady/Peoples,
Leo Rowsome’s Rí na bPiobairí (‘The King of the Pipers’) and Johnny
Doran’s The Bunch of Keys. Another which is often so cited was the
oddly-titled All-Ireland Champions - Violin which originally appeared in
Ireland in 1959 on the Shamrock label, ‘oddly-titled’ since only Paddy Canny
was an All-Ireland Senior title winner in his own right, though P.J. Hayes had
led the Tulla Céilí Band to success in 1957 (and would repeat the victory in
1960).
Unlike the other albums
cited above which have all been relatively easy to obtain since their release
(and all remastered on CD), the quasi-mythological status of All-Ireland
Champions - Violin has been enhanced simply because it has been impossible
to obtain since the mid-1970s, although home-produced cassette copies have
circulated. One alleged reason for its previous unavailability is that the
copyright holder refused to grant permission to interested labels. 
So, its eventual
reissue in remastered CD format by Shanachie offers the opportunity to reassess
this album and determine whether, more than forty years on, it still has the
power to enthuse, inform and delight.
Firstly, there are four
significant changes to note. The most immediate of these is the alteration to
the title to An Historic Recording of Irish Traditional Music from County
Clare and East Galway. Though more accurate than the original, the presence
of ‘East Galway’ has raised some eyebrows since this recording has always been
assumed to a be pure drop of predominantly East Clare music thanks to the
presence of Canny and Hayes. However, as P.J.’s son, Martin, reminds us in his
introduction to the liner notes, “Even the geographic definition of a regional
style is often blurred, as is the case with east Clare and southeast Galway
where the styles are very similar.” Indeed, P.J.’s birthplace of Maghera is but
a short distance from the county border with Galway. So, while technically this
is a recording of two musicians from East Clare, one from West Clare (Peadar
O’Loughlin) and one from Dublin (Bridie Lafferty), it would be pernickety to
argue that this does not represent a recording of a sample of the local
repertoire.
The second change lies
in the reorganisation of the album’s running order. The author of the bulk of
the liner notes, Don Meade, simply states that “This Shanachie reissue was
digitally remastered with some alteration of the original sequencing” without
explaining why this was done. The only plausible reason is that the producer,
Daniel Michael Collins, felt that the original running order lacked variety
since side A of the original vinyl LP featured all four musicians while side B
consisted entirely of fiddle duets by Canny and Hayes. Additionally, the
original made no attempt to vary the content by interspersing tune types, so
all the reels and jigs were bundled together on each side. Now it is very easy
for listeners to get precious about the running order of their favourite albums
since habituation breeds expectation. However, it always struck me as perverse
that All Ireland Champions - Violin adopted this hugely artificial
running order in the first place and no reflection of the manner in which the
musicians were accustomed to play. Since the album was clearly recorded on the
cheap in just a few hours and vinyl albums were still a relative novelty in
Ireland it is quite possible that little thought was given to the record’s
organisation. Whatever the case, there’s little doubt that the musicians were
not involved in the choice of the album’s final tracks or order since Peadar
O’Loughlin has recalled that he and Paddy Canny recorded a number of
fiddle-and-flute duets, only one of which (Kitty Gone a-Milking/Music
in the Glen) actually appeared on the album. According to the liner notes,
“Peadar O’Loughlin believes that the remaining tracks were intended for another
recording” which, of course, never appeared nor does anyone admit to knowing
the whereabouts of the master tapes.
The third piece of
tinkering is a little more subtle, though immediately apparent, if the listener
is aware, in that very first track of the original version, Kitty Gone
a-Milking. As was then fashionable, Bridie Lafferty used to lead off each
set of tunes with a pair of repeated chords (the characteristic thump-thump
establishing the tune’s rhythm). How this practice emerged is open to question
- some have suggested it was actually a device introduced by RTÉ radio
producers. If it existed before 1950 it was certainly not widespread, although
the pianist with the Moate Céilí Band, Billy Donnelly, often introduced their
recordings with a few vamped chords. Whatever the case, by the time of All-Ireland
Champions - Violin, the practice had become de rigeur, especially
among céilí bands, membership of which was common to all four participants.
However, for some reason, Daniel Michael Collins has decided to clip these two
chord intros from every track where Bridie Lafferty had originally employed
them. Now this is a straightforward rewriting of history akin to Stalin’s
fondness for amending photographs to eradicate alleged revisionists. As Bridie
played in that way it is debasing her memory to suggest that she did not. In
this way the Shanachie reissue cannot possibly claim to be “An Historic
Recording” but is, in reality, a distorted version of that history and, in the
case of Kitty Gone a-Milking, a clumsy one too!
Finally, the cover of
the liner notes and its centre pages include photographs of the participants,
though its a pity that Shanachie’s photo researcher has not delved especially
deeply since the photos of the four musicians on the cover are actually
extracted from photographs in the centre. It is also disappointing that no
attempt has been made to list the members of the Tulla Céilí Band photograph
from which the individual shots of Canny, Hayes and O’Loughlin have been drawn
nor even dated any of the photographs at all. It would not have involved too
much effort to have identified, for instance, Seán Reid (second from right,
back row), accordionist Paddy Mac Namara (second right, front row) or the
cheeky-faced pianist George Byrt. All are familiar faces.
Disappointingly too,
the proof-reader was obviously confused by the caption to another photograph,
calling Aggie Whyte, who is sometimes spelt as White, ‘Aggie Wyite’!
Moving on to the album
itself, the new opener Rolling in the Barrel/In the Tap Room/The
Earl’s Chair introduces the distinctive sound of Paddy Canny’s fiddle and
the equally understated piano playing of Bridie Lafferty. To my ears there has
always been a slightly harsh edge to Paddy’s playing and this becomes
problematic on the second track, the reels Bunker Hill/The Bush Hill
where not only do Canny, Hayes and O’Loughlin seem to be out of tune with each
other, but Peadar appears to be slightly behind the melody, while Bridie’s
piano wanders off course on The Bush Hill. In fact, to be frank, it sounds
blooming terrible, perhaps indicating that not all four members were familiar
with the tune.
In contrast, Seán
Ryan’s Jig which follows (actually two jigs written by Ryan) sounds wonderfully
relaxed as Paddy and P.Joe weave their fiddles together to the simplest of
piano accompaniments, though that slight discordance emerges in the subsequent
duet, Egan’s/Lafferty’s.
Track 5 takes us to Kitty
Gone a-Milking/Music in the Glen, the previously mentioned only
surviving duet between Paddy and Peadar and more’s the pity, since there’s a
puckishness to their playing that deserves further airing. The following jig, Doctor
O’Neill, has a dated feel, possibly through the quality of the sound
recording - Bridie’s piano sounds muffled - but more, I think due to the tempo
which, though bouncy, is a little slower than today’s fashion. The liner notes
describe this as “the very first jig in O’Neill’s Dance Music of Ireland”
which is not the case as it appears as number six, an easy point to check.
Next comes The
Morning Dew/Reavy’s which fully illustrates the impact of Michael
Coleman’s recording of the first tune on the two Clare fiddlers as they clearly
replicate some f the Sligo fiddlers ornamentations. The second tune, which its
composer, Ed Reavy, called The Hunter’s House, is one of the most
recorded in the traditional music catalogue, though the version here was almost
certainly the first to appear on vinyl and is in many ways still the definitive
reading and played with almost effortless guile.
Two reels first
recorded by the Aughrim Slopes Céilí Band follow - Grogan’s Favourite/Galway
Rambler - and both are played with a substantial lack of elaboration,
almost mirroring the originals. In contrast, Canny and Hayes almost go wild on
a striking rendition of the jig Trip to Athlone, followed by an equally
vivacious Pipe on the Hob.
Dunphy’s Hornpipe/Chief O’Neill’s Favourite are
the only hornpipes here and the first is probably the worst tune on the entire
album. There’s a lackadaisical quality to the playing and the rendition of Chief
O’Neill’s Favourite would hardly have been likely to have stimulated
dancers into action. (Interestingly, Dunphy’s also appears on Paddy
Canny’s Traditional Music from the Legendary East Clare Fiddler album,
though played there with far more zest.) In contrast, feet would have been
flying to track 11, the jigs Carraroe/Portroe while the closing
track, the reels, Lucy Campbell/The Boys of Ballisodare returns
us to Coleman-land.
In conclusion, it
cannot be denied that, over all, this was a groundbreaking record and features
some inspired playing, especially the duets between Paddy Canny and P.J. Hayes.
The addition of Peadar O’Loughlin is not always so successful, but the reason
for that is completely understandable, bearing in mind how long his two seniors
had been playing together. More importantly, this album was recorded in a very
short space of time and sometimes it shows. Some tunes, especially the
hornpipes and Bunker Hill/The Bush Hill sound like first takes
and almost certainly were, considering the frugal studio time available.
Is it a classic? Well,
despite its shortcomings, the answer still has to be affirmative. This was the
first time that the ‘lonesome’ sound of the East Clare fiddlers appeared on
record and, apart from the Feakle fiddler Vincent Griffin’s 1977 album, it
rarely happened again until the emergence of Martin Hayes (albeit with his own
stylistic elaborations). Additionally, this is now the only chance to hear one
of the great piano accompanists, Bridie Lafferty, whose plain, unadorned style
is echoed today by players such as Eugene Kelly and Pete Quinn.
This review by Geoff Wallis was originally written for Musical Traditions
- www.mustrad.org.uk.
Some amendments to that original review have been
made in the light of a detailed and often cogent response penned by Barry
Taylor (which can also be found on the Musical Traditions website).
For more information
about Shanachie Records visit www.shanachie.com.