Last week I was lucky enough to see Planxty at Vicar Street, Dublin, as a guest of Andy Irvine's. I just published a report on my website (http://www.folk4all.net ), but here's a copy anyway. ----------------------------------------------------- Now that I sit down to write my impressions of that wonderful evening I realise my limitation - I am no reviewer. I cannot listen dispassionately, take notes, analyse what I heard, compare with other times or artists. So, if you were hoping for a well-thought-out critique of Planxty's reunion concerts, tough luck. Others do it much better. What I can do however, is to give my impressions, feelings and thoughts - my reaction to this musical feast.
Vanessa and I flew into Dublin that afternoon; we landed around 3pm and by 4pm we were ensconced in our hotel, 10mins away from the venue by taxi and with 3 hours to go before the bar at Vicar Street opened. What an excellent opportunity for a rest and a snooze, especially as I'd only slept 4-5 hours the night before (time of life or excitement, take your pick). After an hour of staring at the ceiling unable to relax, we decided that was no good, so slowly we got our act together and arrived at Vicar Street so early, that the list of comp tickets was not yet with the box office, so we kicked our heels for a bit in the lovely evening watching the passers by. The excitement around was palpable. We knew we were coming to something special, when the taxi driver that picked us at the airport exclaimed how lucky we were to be seeing Planxty. And the one that brought us from the hotel. And the doorman at the hotel. A little lady approached us in hopes of a spare ticket (all sold out) and the touts were openly offering them at 80 Euros for standing places...
I'd given my surname at the box office meanwhile. After a bit, the door opened "George, isn't it?". Fame in Dublin? No, with a surname like mine I learned long ago that such familiarity is born of necessity, and does not mean that the person addressing me knows my life history or can distinguish me from Adam. But most important, the tickets were there, together with two bands "for the artists' party afterwards". We walked into the bar with a swagger. Our first pint of the black stuff hardly touched the sides. As we ordered the second we realised that one could take drinks into the auditorium (this was clearly NOT like England). So we did, and walked into the main hall. A lovely venue - tables with stools instead of rows of seats, plus balcony, plus very nifty "standing" positions. Every table heaved with drinks, but everyone was most civilised.
Right on time, the warm-up act walked onto the stage - Albert Niland, singer songwriter, accompanying himself on various guitars. Though I wasn't moved by his first song, he'd clearly done that sort of thing before. And the crowd were most warm and supportive. His second and third songs would cause me to buy his CD though. And he finished with an odd choice - Kate Bush's Wuthering Heights - but I am really glad he did, because his version was nothing short of brilliant. I'd pay to see him again, so look out for the name: ALBERT NILAND.
Then, with hardly 2 minutes break, Planxty walked on. The decibels in the room multiplied - this was not an audience, but a family welcoming back prodigal sons. The noise wasn't a roar, but a massive opening of hearts. This was not a concert, it was an occasion. Right there and then I felt like a Christian at a pagan ceremony - I could sense vibes in the room that I could not feel; yet I wanted to feel them! Oh well, sit back George and enjoy the music.
They kicked off with the Royal Spa set of reels and I could hear a fifth instrument: 6, 7 - 800 voices "humming" along. The Good Ship Kangaroo followed (6, 7 - 800 voices singing the chorus, plus one by now, mine). Then Andy sang Tonight My Heart is in Ireland, and I felt so inadequate, I could have cried; I was just so jealous of everyone else's Irishness, because I wanted to feel the music at the level they were feeling it. I tell you though, I did my bloody best!
I was not keeping proper notes, so I can't give you the full detailed setlist, but I do remember Christy's pouring his heart out in the ballad of Little Musgrave (he forgot the worms on the second verse and had to restart it as they were recording the concert for a likely DVD to come out soon; but that did not detract from my enjoyment in the least. This was not a floorspot losing the lines, this was a perfectionist for whom 99% was not good enough). Then he played the most wonderful bass bodhran on the Clare jig (on double bodhrans with Donal.). No bashing out of frenetic rhythm, but the bodhran emitting NOTES. If I could play it like that, I'd gladly face the wrath of the diehard detractors in some of the English folkclubs...
Andy sang As I Roved Out, and then came Si Bheag, Si Mhor (apologies if I'm spelling it wrong! I asked my neighbour). Then the Death of S???? Wallace; and Arthur Mc Bride; and Only our rivers run free; and the Blacksmith; and the West Coast of Clare; and the Raggle Taggle Gypsy, the Cliffs of Duneen....and some I forgot to jot down. Meanwhile, every time Liam started up on the pipes (WHEN did he pump up the bellows? I never caught him preparing, and I had been warned of his slickness) the room would erupt with more of that Irishness that I was lacking again. Me, I just had the hair on my arms stand up.
I had never seen Planxty live in the old days. But I can believe the critics' report that said they are better now than they have ever been. There was a comfort and ease in the delivery and even the patter in between that practice alone cannot achieve. These were brothers reuniting, and we were peeping through a keyhole at the process. When they came up for an encore and did 3-4-5 numbers (Christy: "we haven't done this for a long time, it's our encore, we'll do as many as we want") we just didn't want it to end.
No, "Empty Handed" was not played - and quite right too. It would have been out of place in such a celebration of Planxty's history. By the end of the evening I was ready to swap my passport!
Then drinks in the bar, where we met Declan Murphy from the group The 4 Of Us (big in Germany, unknown here - but talented in a big way) and finally had a chance to say "thank you" to Andy and hand over a copy of my impending 4th album. And Andy once more was so gracious and generous that I left Vicar Street that night wishing I'd met him many years ago, so I could rightly call him an old friend.