My wife and I were very fortunate to honeymoon in Ireland. The lush country landscapes felt hyper real, giving the feel of a living painting. The cityscapes were fantastic too, particularly Galway, which was laid back and had both the bay and some greenery meeting alongside man made structures. It was also here where we were able to experience some of the music offerings of Ireland. The pubs that contained live music and the buskers that occupied the streets offered two unique experiences. The setting truly highlighted the need to be aware of one’s surroundings, lest you miss a wonderful moment.
Back at home many of us are caught up in the daily grind of work, the need to quickly get from place to place, and schedules filled with little time to stop and observe. By deliberately setting time aside to explore what Ireland had on display, we allowed ourselves to open our eyes to our surroundings and our ears to the sounds of the city. Before the sun had set, musicians as singular entities and in small groups began making their way to the sides of the stone Galway roads.
There was a variance in skill on the streets of the city, but every musician was gaining experience in the ways of garnering a crowd and honing their live chops, a task that should be respected. Our current destination was to a pub that played traditional Irish music. It was located just outside the tourist area, its existence being made known to us by a friendly local. As we walked our attention was caught by the sound of cajón, that could have been mistaken for the tonal array of a drum set. The players that accompanied the percussionist were a fiddler, bassist, and guitarist. The latter stood in front of a microphone, and when he opened his mouth the melody he sung was akin to a rough sea shanty. His voice had grit and attitude, and the song being played by the band enhanced the atmosphere around him. We stayed for the duration of the tune and made our way further down the road.
Off the street and into the watering hole, we entered the first floor of a green and yellow pub named The Crane Bar. As the door closed behind us we followed the sound of fiddle playing and tin whistles upstairs. We were greeted by a full house, with a bit of standing room left. After a little conversation with a young man with a guitar bag slung across his back we were clued into the scene before us. The Crane Bar had an open invitation to the local college musicians. The performance area was lined with student performers (and possibly a professor, or two) who wrapped around an upside down “L” shaped stage behind a short railing. Here and there a scholar would make their way from bar to stage and join in on a traditional piece. We even witnessed one man playing across from the pupils on his tin whistle as he sat on a bar stool. The site of the undergraduates building their skills, and participating in the music of their homeland was a site not to be forgotten. It was a clear lesson in the binding power of music, and its ability to welcome different cultures to participate within it.
The night started to wind down and my wife and I began our journey back to our hotel, retracing the steps we took to arrive at The Crane Bar. Off in the distance we heard a horn section calling us. When we arrived we were met by a small crowd of fifty. Inside the semicircle, whose corners touched the city’s shops, the same four buskers we saw earlier had now expanded into a much larger band. They were joined by a four piece horn section, a second guitarist, and a new singer (with a guitar) who had taken over lead vocals. The Animals “House of the Rising Sun” poured, undeniably from the band’s explosive wake. They had captured the crowd, and we were glad to be their prisoners. As they summoned us to kneel with them for the song’s finale, the gathering awaited the crescendo. The singer belted “Well there is a house in New Orleans,” causing the band and the congregation to surge upwards, the lyrics pulsed through our minds and bodies. It was unforgettable, it was sheer talent, it was what a live experience is supposed to achieve, it was as if we were part of a timeless film.