(2018) From the allegedly deep “Farewell to Erin’s Musical Priest” instrumental, to “John Riley’s” tribute to unappreciated history, the stories these tracks tell are not entirely candid. Nevertheless, each in its own way comes from something very real. Even the collision of songs in our Liverpool set gives a sly nod to a traditional Irish session, with chairs filled by aging revolutionaries, work-worn immigrants, lonely veterans, and a few young idealists. This sampling of people comes together to play a scattering of melodies from a smattering of centuries—and it becomes something greater. The music speaks to them, because it speaks of them.
In performing it, musicians tell also a larger tale, filled with chapters of love, war, heroes, and villains. More than stories of people, Irish folk music is the story of a people. We strive to leave a fresh mark, but we acknowledge that in the end, we are custodians of a tradition which finds in us neither its beginning nor its end.
To this end, we wished for a flawless album, and we’ve worked hard at realizing that dream. But it’s probably better that we didn’t get our wish: this album is our story as well, and if it were perfect, it would not be true.
So listen to us play each song, each song a part of a people’s musical literature, each musician reflected by the literature and performance. Although the recording, now part of the tradition, won’t change, what it means to you most certainly can. Take our story, and retell it in your own way. Base it on your own true story.