Back in the day it was so tough trying to get so called “modern Irish” to listen and accept that this music and culture is right up there with the best the world can offer. In essence they had the mother of all colonial hangovers.
All that we are is 'Moments' Everything we try to convey is through, moments, strung together into stories. Weather you're a fiddler/scientist/street cleaner/doctor/tinker/tailor/baker/mother/farther/son/daughter/etc. Moments; like drops of water on the crystal still surface of a misty morning lake, become form, 'then dies as it is born' such is the art of music. (Sheela na Gig?) A trilling line that is made of want, and desire of melody, can frame the humid blue night and make the very stars shimmer in the pure joy of being. The Universe wants to know itself, to find love and purpose in the clinking ghostly longing of atoms, that reveal the multicoloured core of life, the gliding whimsy of the Irish violin bow upon the strings, awakens the beauty in the darkest abyss.
To watch Martin play live is an incredible experience and privilege. A beautiful soul.
There is a whole story without a need for words there. Wonderful.
Never heard it played so soulfully and beautifully!
Solid well done 👏
Back in the day it was so tough trying to get so called “modern Irish” to listen and accept that this music and culture is right up there with the best the world can offer. In essence they had the mother of all colonial hangovers.
Well done Tommy ..you get it 🎸
When I hear music like this makes miss Ireland
Martin is an excellent musician, so powerful and soulful
Special musician
Very interesting guest.
All that we are is 'Moments' Everything we try to convey is through, moments, strung together into stories. Weather you're a fiddler/scientist/street cleaner/doctor/tinker/tailor/baker/mother/farther/son/daughter/etc. Moments; like drops of water on the crystal still surface of a misty morning lake, become form, 'then dies as it is born' such is the art of music. (Sheela na Gig?) A trilling line that is made of want, and desire of melody, can frame the humid blue night and make the very stars shimmer in the pure joy of being. The Universe wants to know itself, to find love and purpose in the clinking ghostly longing of atoms, that reveal the multicoloured core of life, the gliding whimsy of the Irish violin bow upon the strings, awakens the beauty in the darkest abyss.