Between 1958 and 1981 the London-based Topic label
issued over seventy LPs of traditional Irish music, commencing with Street
Songs and Fiddle Tunes of Ireland by Margaret Barrie (sic) and Michael
Gorman and culminating with In the Tradition by Boys of the Lough. It
was an extraordinary achievement for a label which had originated as an
activity of the Workers’ Music Association in the 1940s, devoted to fostering
“an appreciation of ideologically sound, egalitarian music” (its very first
release was the 78rpm I’m the Man Who Waters the Workers’ Beer coupled
with The Internationale). Gerry Sharp, who’d been working for the WMA,
took over in the 1950s and oversaw the development of a substantial traditional
music catalogue, focussing upon, predominantly, the music of England, Scotland,
Ireland and Wales (although there were also releases covering such exotica as
Albanian music). After Gerry’s death in 1973 Tony Engle assumed the directorial
reins and is still at the helm more than thirty years later.
Many of Topic’s Irish releases were produced by Bill Leader
(who later set up his own eponymous label) and some involved Reg Hall who
remains actively involved in Topic’s activities, compiling issues of remastered
78s such as Round the House and Mind the Dresser and
the Michael Gorman retrospective, The Sligo Champion.
Surprisingly few of those seventy albums have reappeared in CD format. Leo Rowsome’s
two vinyl albums reappeared on one disc as Classics of Irish Piping and
the Séamus Ennis recording of Pádraig O’Keeffe, Denis Murphy and Julia Clifford
saw the light once more as Kerry Fiddles, though nowadays its released
under licence by Ossian (a label which licensed several other albums, the
majority of which were only released in cassette format). Some releases (such
as John Doherty’s Bundle and Go) remain licensed, but the overwhelming
majority are unavailable to those unwilling to scour the second-hand shops or
bid in the increasingly frenzied auctions on eBay (collecting all of Topic’s
vinyl output seems to have become a new consumer sport).
So those of us who missed some, many or all of those classic
Irish releases were extremely grateful when the Globestyle label, an offshoot
of Ted Carroll’s re-issue specialists, Ace Records, decided to compile a
massive Topic-based retrospective of traditional music in the early 1990s and
employed Ron Kavana to undertake the work.
The first release, Treasure of My Heart, appeared in
1993 and offered a tantalising glimpse of what was to come, being, as Ron’s
liner notes emphatically asserted, “an across-the-board compilation chosen from
the entire Topic catalogue, and is the widest selection of quality Irish music
ever made available in one collection”, adding that there were eight more discs
to follow. The few pictures in that liner also suggested just how broad that
range might be, for they included not only shots of Leo Rowsome and Frank
Harte, but scans of the album covers of After Dawning by Joe Holmes and
Len Graham, Grand Airs of Connemara and The Russell Family of Doolin,
County Clare. 
The disc itself proved to be no let down either, largely adopting a chronological approach, beginning with the piping of William Andrews, taking in some remastered 78s on the way, including musicians of the calibre of John Doherty, Josie McDermott and Willie Clancy, while tipping a wink to the new boys in a closing track by Four Men and a Dog. Most importantly, however, the Irish song tradition was emphatically well represented by the likes of John Reilly, Mary Ann Carolan, Sarah Makem and Joe Heaney. Most of those who purchased the CD certainly enjoyed what they found and could barely wait for the promised future releases.
Others, however, wondered whether Ron Kavana was actually the right person to be undertaking this enterprise. His opening notes referred to the RTÉ/BBC series, Bringing It All Back Home as “exemplary”, a controversial comment which was shortly followed by the astonishing claim that “the melodic basis of most Western pop music came from the traditional music of these islands and from Ireland in particular”. No, Ron, the melodic basis of most Western pop music derives from the blues and we should all, by now, know how that musical form evolved.
The first of the planned eight albums, I’m Leaving
Tipperary, appeared in 1994 and was drawn largely from five LPs issued by
Topic in 1978 and 1979 which compiled remastered 78s by Hugh Gillespie, John
McGettigan, Dan Sullivan’s Shamrock Band, Tom Ennis and James Morrison, and
John McGettigan.
Now,
obviously, it would be difficult to complain about either the quality of the
importance of the music on offer, but I’m Leaving Tipperary suggested a
deeper problem at the core of the Globestyle series. Topic had never issued
anything by Michael Coleman, J.J. Kimmel, Paddy Killoran or Louis. E. Quinn, so
while this collection might rightly claim the subtitle ‘Classic Irish Traditional
Music Recorded in America in the 20s and 30s’, it could hardly claim to be a
truly representative collection.
There was also the fundamental question of the accuracy of
Ron’s liner notes which were now promulgating such garbage as this:
“Such was the power of the church at the time that by the
dawn of the 20th century, traditional Irish music had almost
completely ceased to exist in most areas of Ireland.”
Apart from being distinctly untrue, this lapse into polemic
suggested that Mr Kavana might not be fully au fait with his subject.
Nevertheless, this was a hugely important release, even if it was pre-empted
and perhaps inspired by the far more representative collection of 78s released
the previous year by Rounder, From Galway to Dublin, compiled by Dick
Spottswood and Philippe Varlet.
Moving on, the next album in the Globestyle series, The
Gentleman Pipers, was entirely devoted to the instrument upon which Martin
Carthy, seeing Séamus Ennis play, vowed it was akin to watching “a man wrestle
with an octopus”. The album drew heavily from the original three volume Classics
of Irish Piping series, featuring Liam Walsh, William Andrews and Leo
Rowsome, adding selections recorded by Willie Clancy (from The Breeze from
Erin), the solo albums from Pat Mitchell and Felix Doran, Séamus Ennis’s The
Wandering Minstrel, a couple of tracks recorded by Michael O’Brien
extracted from 1980’s The Flags of Dublin (recorded with Paddy Glackin
and Mick Gavin) plus two from Seán McAloon from the Drops of Brandy LP. 
At the time of its release, The Gentleman Pipers
clearly indicated the seriousness of Globestyle’s efforts to revive interest in
Irish music, even if the misprints in the liner notes (“Finbar Fury”,
“uillean”) suggest that the proof-reader did not share Ron Kavana’s enthusiasm.
Of course, there had been earlier collection of uilleann piping, such as
Claddagh’s The Drones and the Chanters and Mulligan’s The Piper’s Rock, but Globestyle’s release
was the first to bring together archive recordings. For Kavana, however, there was one overwhelming omission and his
indication of this suggests that he was not entirely enamoured by the project’s
parameters. He notes that attempts to persuade the Irish Folklore Commission to
licence its recordings of Johnny Doran were ignored.
The fourth album to roll off the Globestyle production line,
The Rushy Mountain, was entirely devoted to the six albums which formed
a Topic mini-series in the mid-1970s – Music from Sliabh Luachra – although
one of these, by Billy Clifford, also covered Tipperary and, arguably, his own
music and that of his parents, Julia and John, was heavily influenced by their
time in London.
The
other featured musicians were Johnny O’Leary, Jackie Daly, Denis Murphy and the
great teacher, Pádraig O’Keeffe (mysteriously referred to as ‘Padraig O’Keefe’
throughout the package). In many ways it is perhaps the most engrossing release
in the whole series, not least because of the strength of musicianship on show
here, but because of the sheer vitality of the tunes played.
Ron’s notes bemoan the movement “further and further away
from regional styles and repertoires towards a kind of potpourri
standardisation”, adding that “almost every traditional flute player tends to
sound like Matt Molloy”. Yet, arguably, almost ten years after the release of The
Rushy Mountain increasing numbers of young musicians are turning for
inspiration towards the older musicians from those regions thought to be at
risk. It would be hard to argue, for instance, that the Donegal fiddle
tradition is currently under threat.
Next in line came perhaps the second weakest release in the
whole series, In the Smoke (the weakest will be eventually revealed!).
As I wrote in another review, this Globestyle compilation has always felt like
a partial disappointment in comparison to the original Topic album, Paddy
in the Smoke (and a slightly amended version of my comments
there now follows). Such feeling begins, of course, with the liner’s cover
photograph which proudly displays a rather oddly shaped pub called The
Favourite. Unfortunately (and I’m reliably informed that this still makes Ron
Kavana wake screaming some nights), this particular Favourite – a very dire pub
indeed – was a couple of further miles north on Hornsey Rise and had little
connection with Irish music. Perhaps to assuage Ron’s nightmares the pub closed
some years ago and the site now houses some very upmarket flats. 
In the Smoke repeats some of the tracks
from Paddy in the Smoke, but is bolstered by other Topic recordings from
the likes of John and Julia Clifford, plus their son Billy, as well as London
session stalwarts Margaret Barry and Michael Gorman, and the O’Halloran
brothers, Vince and Dessie (a review of the latter’s most recent release can be
found here). Also included are several recordings from the Topic
compilation The Lark in the Clear Air and it is at this point that the
crucial subtitle comes into play for neither John Doonan (from Newcastle) nor
The Wright Brothers (from Leicester) had very much to do with London or its
music scene. The same applies to harmonica player Noel Pepper and while Tommy
Healy had played regularly in London, I’m not sure the same could be said about
his duet partner Johnny Duffy (the tracks are taken from their Memories of
Sligo album). In contrast, the two Jimmy Power tracks come from his long
out-of-print album The Irish Fiddler (though not, sadly, his album with
Tony Ledwith for Leader, Music from The Favourite).
This isn’t to
suggest that In the Smoke should be prosecuted under the Trade
Descriptions Act, but it lacks much of the authenticity of Paddy in the
Smoke, despite offering substantial value for money. On the other hand,
Kavana provides astute liner notes and the brief biographies are well worth
reading.
In contrast, fewer
qualms could be laid at the door of album number six in the series, Hurry
the Jug, which concentrated on singing, lilting and storytelling, though
with the emphasis placed strongly on the first of these.
The album featured twelve singers, each of
whom was allocated two tracks, though there does not seem to be any logic in
the running order. Indeed there is perhaps an over-emphasis upon singers from
the Ulster province (no fewer than six) and very little sean-nós in evidence
(only Joe Heaney and Seán ‘ac Dhonncha). Also, there are some surprising
omissions, such as Dominic Behan and Sarah Anne O’Neill, though others (John
Lyons, Cathal McConnell and Frank Harte, for instance) were picked up in the
final volume of the series.
However, there is still plenty here to enjoy and there’s no
better way to begin an album than with a story from Tom Lenihan and, perhaps,
equally no better means of closing it than with a set of lilted reels from
Josie McDermott. Planxty lovers would also be well reminded of the source of
the band’s Raggle Taggle Gypsy, John Reilly.
Almost as a companion to its predecessor, the seventh album in
the series, Happy to Meet, Sorry to Part is a compendium of delights for
lovers of Ireland’s instrumental tradition, contriving to squeeze thirty tracks
into almost seventy minutes of material. Some of these featured the Clare
musicians Chris Droney, John Kelly, Bernard O’Sullivan and Tommy McMahon, whose
albums were included in the short-lasting collaboration between Topic and the
Free Reed label which resulted in six records of concertina music.
Others utilized material from less well-known Topic releases
by the likes of Vincent Griffin, Rose Murphy
,
Terry Teahan and Gene Kelly, as well as the hammer dulcimer virtuoso John Rea,
while, naturally, making sure that Séamus Tansey, John Doherty and the duo of
Séamus Horan and Packie Duignan were all well represented. Inevitably, there
was some overlap with other albums in the series, but it would be difficult to
envisage an album of Irish instrumental music which did not include the
uilleann pipes. If the album has a weakness, it probably lies in the revelation
that Topic actually recorded very few fiddlers other than Doherty, Griffin and
Horan and someone might have paid more attention to proofreading. One track, a
Doherty solo, is listed as being a duet between the fiddler and Tommy McMahon –
an intriguing concept – while another suggests that there is a tune called Gillian’s
Apples. However, these minor errors pale into insignificance when compared
to the misnamed monstrosity which would form the eighth album in the Globestyle
collection.
As its liner scan reveals, this bore the title The
Coolin’, leading cynics to question just exactly what was being “cooled”.
Musically, however, this compilation was, in many ways, the
most far-reaching and also, perhaps, the most satisfying. Nevertheless, it was the
first in the series to be deleted, suggesting that the CD-buying public was
not, at that time, entranced by the idea of possessing a collection of slow
airs and laments. More’s the pity, because The Coolin’ (apostrophised or
not) is a stunning anthology of some of the best slow playing you’ll ever hear.
Anyone
who purchased the album, however, was also short-changed by the exceptionally
brief liner notes which almost suggest that Mr. Kavana had run out of steam.
Take this paragraph as an example:
All the musicians featured on this collection are also to
be found on other CDs in this series of compilations from the Topic archives,
and it is there you must look for any biographical information as I feel that I
should write no more at this point other than to say that the music on this
disc will speak for itself to any but the most insensitive soul.
Well, that would be fine for anyone who had purchased other albums in the series, but, those who had bought the previous seven would not be able to find any reference to Festy Conlan (sic), Solus Lillis, Micheal MacAogain or Brian Bailie.
Nevertheless, it’s hard to argue with an album that includes John Doherty’s unsurpassable Paddy’s Rambles Through the Park or Felix Doran’s majestic reading of the actual tune The Coolin.
The concluding album in the series remains the most disappointing. Released in 1997, it claimed to compile “contemporary classics of traditional Irish music”. As previously mentioned, however, Topic ceased issuing Irish vinyl in 1981, so, in order to bolster the subtitle’s claim certain tracks by Patrick Street were licensed from Green Linnet and others, by Four Men and a Dog, came from Cross Border Media, plus two of Ron Kavana’s from his Home Fire album, issued by Topic’s subsidiary, Special Delivery. However, all of these were at least four years old at the time of the collection’s release, somewhat undermining any suggestion of contemporaneousness.
The remainder all date from the1960s and 1970s, and, in
1997, it would have been extremely difficult for anyone to argue that 
The
McPeake Family or The Irish County Four could ever possibly be regarded as
‘contemporary’ or, even more so, that the latter’s output might be considered
‘classic’.
In fact, this last album was very much a ragbag. Sure, there was Jackie Daly and Tony Mac Mahon, Len Graham and Joe Holmes, but, unlike the implicit concern of Ron Kavana’s liner notes, it was hardly a collection which suggested a brave new voyage into the 21st century.
Nevertheless, there’s no doubting the overall value of the Globestyle series nor the fact that its eleven hours of music represents probably the most comprehensive, if not always successful, attempt to recount the history of Irish traditional music during the 20th century. Ultimately, there is probably no better introduction to that music and we remain in debt to Ron, Globestyle and Topic.
All of these albums have now been deleted, but most remain worthy of your attention.
Geoff Wallis
7th June, 2004
Globestyle’s catalogue can be found at www.acerecords.co.uk.