Thanks Greg, didn't know they were quite so widespread. Obviously some early bodhranist (whatever) must have had a bike.

After following the intellectual cut and thrust of this absolutely riveting well-informed discussion on what must be one of the most primitive basic musical (?) sounds, I'd like to throw another hat in the ring.... or possibly spanner in the works.

What's the considered opinion on tuneable bodhrans? And by this, as I hasten to add, I mean any of the variety of adjustable tension systems now around, rather than on the more traditional methods such as water, body heat, fire, and in extreme cases, knives. Which is the best system? expanding band, screwed ring, etc? And if the instrument is not really old and traditional etc, then why are so many dead set against "modernising" it for ease and comfort, and if it is old etc, why don't the Folk Police jump up and down about it more?

PS, can I also refer you to the words for a bodhran solo which I penned the other day and which also appear somewhere else in this forum. Pretend you're Lonnie Donegan and talk in a slightly nasal amurricane accent through the Scots or Irish brogue.

TALKING BODHRAN FOLK BLUES

If you ain't looking for no trouble, Let me tell you how to do it. Don't get a bodhran, or you'll be right into it. Just thumping that thing, day and night. Ain't no way you can do it right. People'll grumble and carry on, Tell you it needs tuning - Offer you a knife. Always moaning, whinging. Tell you there ain't no point in practising. Ain't got no patience, some folks. Once I thought I'd like to play some music. So I spoke to a friend of mine - He built stuff. Tried fiddle, guitar, mandolin - Even tried banjo. Nothing worked. Fiddle needed accuracy - Guitar needed chords. Hell, Mandolin even needed strings. Banjo – Well, I figured if I played it loud enough, Nobody would notice I couldn't play a melody. I was wrong though. People noticed - Cast aspersions - Other things. Eggs, tomatoes - Half bricks – Hand grenades. So I asked around - Discovered – Drums. Asked my friend for something that would sound good if I hit it. He gave me his mother-in-law's phone number. I said no thanks - She was bigger than me. And the wrong key anyway. He said the next best thing was a bodhran. Tried it – liked it. So I spoke to a feller who had two. He gave me a great deal – Threw them both in. As a straight swap - For a pair of ear-plugs. Gave me a special stick to hit them with. Said just cut off the end to a suitable length. Said the axe-head was optional. So I took the bodhrans and I took the stick. And I went to a place I knew where bodhrans were welcome. The Celtic Tearooms. Well, I guess they didn't know any better. They damn soon learned though. But people said they liked it. Even people who played music said that. Before they left. Still, I persevered - Practised. Learned how to change rhythms. Learned how to set a beat. How to recognise a tempo. That's what they use to see how hot it is. Soon people were pointing me out in the street. Mind, they used to do that anyway. But now they were saying, "Hey, lookit the bodhran player. You can see how good he is with a bodhran. He can walk in step – With himself – Nearly." Still, I keep trying - Trying all the time. Day and night - Trying. Week in week out - Trying. Trying, trying, trying. Yep – Very. My good lady wife said if I didn't stop trying, Especially at my age – One of us had to go. But I knew I couldn't. And I knew that I needed her with me. "Cause of my undying love for her, even after all those years together. And the cooking – and washing – and cleaning. And if we split up, well, I just didn't know who - I'd be able to do it for. So I bought her a bodhran too. Must be contagious - Now she's practising. For hours on end – Duelling bodhrans. Thud thud thud. The neighbours have moved. The cat left home. Even the budgie sits with its' wings in its' ears. Mind you, it's got its' good points. Somewheres - Must have. Surely. Sometimes I wish I'd never heard of bodhrans. But what the hell. Just hit the thing. Makes me feel good. Gonna make the big time sometime. Somebody said I should cut me a record. Waste of time – Now I can't play either half. Joined a group. A guitar and a dulcimer and me. Nothing. Joined another group. Fiddle and a keyboard and me. Still nothing. Gonna try again. Third time lucky. Bagpipes and steam calliope and me. Somebody's got to shovel the coal. Great career move – So they tell me. Still rather be thumping away. Gonna keep thumping. Just them and me. Well, Me.