back from Ireland

16–22 August 2019

A train ride from Killarney to Dublin, then a ferry (the Ulysses no less) to Holyhead and an overnight coach to London, just in time for Breaking Convention 2019, the interdisciplinary psychedelics conference. Lots of interesting stuff going on there, as expected! Musically, we were entertained by the great Paddy Steer on Friday night, and the ridiculous Henge on Saturday night. Unfortunately I had to leave Sunday, so missed the Irish psych band Tau who Mike C had told me to look out for. However, on Saturday eve, after the lectures ended but before Henge played, I was sitting out on the lawn with Luke D and he asked to have a go on my saz. I got it out, and after he'd had his fill, he handed it back and I started semi-consciously noodling. This turned into me playing "Cuncti Simus Concarentes" a medieval Catalan Marianist song I'd picked up as part of my current obsession with the Cantigas da Santa Maria. I noticed a long-haired, bespectacled young man sitting close, listening intently. And then he surprised me by starting to sing the words. It turned out he knew nothing of the song's context, but had learned it from a Kalenda Maya album:
 

This turned out to be Rory from Tau, who'd met Mike at the Hill of Uisneach on the summer solstice (synchronised with the start of my current Marianist musical enthusiasm). He got a pennywhistle out of his bag, and after a key change we were able to play the tune together, followed by a variant of "King of the Fairies" and then just a simple jam. A few curious concert-goers (including my old friend Andy Letcher) gathered to listen. So that was a lovely, synchronistic end to my BC weekend. I caught a little bit of Henge (utterly bonkers, as expected) and then had to run for the last coach to Canterbury.

The next evening I was hosting Jennifer Bennett and Oli Parfitt (both former members of Circulus) playing an extraordinary concert in a secret woodland location: Oli on mini-Moog and Jenny on viola da gamba, flute and violin, playing a mix of early music and original songs. One seamless set — gorgeous! Support was provided by her friend Ian Perry, a singer-songwriter she brought along from Glastonbury. He joined them at the end for a stunning cover of Leonard Cohen's "1000 Kisses"

A few days later I dropped by Bramley's to catch Luke playing the weekly open mic. He included a very clever new song called "Nobody Knows I'm Banned From Here", which manages to rhyme "wild garlic pesto" and "Unabomber Manifesto". On my way home, I passed the Old Beverlie, a pub not known for live music, and heard some lively boogie/blues wafting out the open door (it was a warm evening). Through the window I spotted Luke Smith at the piano, so went in to listen. His dad Dave was on the drums, Peter Cook was on sax and harmonica legend Brendan Power was there too. They were really cooking, and I was looking forward to a bit more of the same, but they were about ready to pack up. Suddenly Luke announced that he was going to play Matching Mole's "O Caroline" just for me. And he did, beautifully, with Dave the Drummer lightly percussing along. Another perfect Canterbury moment.