So....
An individual saunters into a bar...
Three or four other random souls drift in through the different entrances...
A focus or cusp of attention forms around a table at one end of the bar, but nobody approaches it...
A haze of expectation coalesces in the smoke from the open log fire, and unrelated individals drift towards the warmth of the crackling blaze...
One person opens a fiddle case, this is not a leader, just the earliest member to move...
Suddenly a critical mass has been reached, almost as one, the remaining members of the throng open cases, fish whistles out of coat pockets or bones from a tin...
They move en-masse to be seated on the stools and benches which litter the floor. The scraping of a fiddle bow against strings reverberates from the rafters as somebody tunes up...
A chord strikes an anacrusis as the music magically forms...
And Then...
The prat who thinks he can play a bodhran strikes up!
Quack!
GtD.