Michael Hynes and Denis Liddy
Waifs and Strays
Sitting with a friend in
Cruise’s in Ennis the other Monday night I tried to describe the participants
in the previous evening’s entertainment. “The accordionist had a moustache and
was challenged in the follicle department, “ I told my Clare-born friend. He
suggested Conor Keane, but I’d never seen Conor with an upper lip growth. “The
flute-player had grey hair and was about our age,” I mooted, “and he kept
playing a few runs and stopping.” My accomplice was none the wiser. “The
fiddler was well over six feet tall, very slim and had the sweetest tone I’ve heard
in a long time,” My compadre racked his brains unsuccessfully.
Unbeknownst to either of us,
back in the bedroom of my B&B was the photographic evidence which would
have solved the conundrum posed by my feeble descriptions (well, at least it
would have answered two of the questions), for, as I later discovered, on my
return to London, one simple riffle through the contents of the liner for Waifs
and Strays would have identified the fiddler and flute-player in question
as, respectively, Denis Liddy and Michael Hynes, though I’d still have been
none the wiser regarding the physiognomy of their accompanist, guitarist Rob
Sharer, and the identity of mysterious moustachioed accordionist remains
unsolved.
Such personal identity
parades would have been more readily solved had I followed my initial
inclination and attended the London launch of Waifs and Strays some
months earlier, rather than bowing to a friend’s desire to see a film so
memorable that I’ve already forgotten its title. Had I done so I would already
have obtained a copy of this stupendous recording and spent part of my time in
Clare attempting to track down Messrs Liddy and Hynes.
For, alongside the releases
of The
Tap Room Trio and O’Brien & Ó Raghallaigh’s Kitty Lie Over,
this is one of the absolutely essential, unequivocally gorgeous releases of
2003 and, as in the case of the other two albums, will be regarded as a
benchmark recording for many years to come.
The format of the album is
tantalisingly simple and consists of Liddy’s fiddle and Hynes’s flute
intertwining over fifteen delicious slices of music, sometimes playing solo,
usually to the accompaniment of Sharer’s guitar (often well to the back of the
mix) and occasional double bass. Reels predominate, constituting seven of those
fifteen tracks, but there is also space for hornpipes, single and double jigs,
a set of Sliabh Luachra polkas, a set of old-fashioned waltzes, a tune from
James Scott Skinner via Seán McGuire, while a live recording of the Caledonian
Set complete with the sound of dancing feet completes the album.
There’s a sweet delicacy to
much of their music, but it is never cloying to the ear while some of the tune
changes are both unexpected and adroitly handled. All told, Waifs and Strays
doesn’t just bring a breath of Clare, but a mighty inhalation of fresh air.
The liner notes contain
quite detailed biographies of Denis and Michael (plus a shorter one of Rob) and
informative notes on the tunes and their sources.
This is an original review by Geoff Wallis.
To learn more about Waifs and Strays visit www.liddy-hynes.com/.