1997

Andy Irvine

Governor Hindmarsh

Reviewed by Murray Bramwell

Dressed in a Redbacks t-shirt and looking a little weary from day one of the Fourth Test, Andy Irvine fronts an enthusiastic crowd for his Saturday night set at the Governor Hindmarsh. No stranger to Australia, or the music scene here, he is on the summer festival circuit and winds up with the Canberra gathering at Easter.

Irvine remains one of Irish music’s true believers. Youthful devotee of Woody Guthrie, pupil of Rambling Jack Elliott, foundation member of Planxty, he has impeccable radical/trad credentials. He is also a charming performer and a gifted musician.

With his familiar tousled black hair and beard Irvine is relaxed but purposeful as he brandishes a variety of custom built instruments which he describes as ‘guitar-bodied derivations of the Greek bouzouki.’ And with these eight string wonders and a series of winsome open-tunings he performs a mixed repertoire of emigration ballads from Co. Antrim, a medley entitled Lintheads featuring textile worker songs  from Belfast and North Carolina, and a genial song from days on the road with his former band Sweeney’s Men- My Heart’s Tonight in Ireland. Highlights of the first half are a song dedicated to the patriot James Connolly and a lovely long and winding ballad, The Highwayman.

For the second half it is a re-working of Woody Guthrie’s Pastures of Plenty –The Old Dusty Road, a Cecil Sharp find- Two Sisters, and a splendid version of Alistair Hulett’s tender elegy to Wittenoom asbestosis victims, He Fades Away.

For many Andy Irvine is fondly remembered  for his 1976 duo album with Paul Brady and he performs two requests. The first is The Plains of Kildare, a spirited song of Stewball and his epic run against the Monaghan grey mare, performed,  as ever, with Irvine’s gently burred vocal and chiming guitar style. And, to follow, for the second time at the Gov in two months, the provo anthem Arthur McBride. Paul Brady also sang it in duet with Paul Kelly recently. Let’s say the score between Brady and Irvine is one-all.

Andy Irvine has long incorporated Bulgarian and Romanian folk forms in his music and his own song, Baneasa’s Green Glade is a haunting tune which he follows with a horo,  a sort of Romanian jig, in breakneck 13/16 time. Closing with his steadfastly Wobbly song, Never Tire of the Road,  the singer returns for a well-chosen encore. First, a vivid narrative based on Mawson’s Antarctic journal which Irvine wrote after a previous visit to Adelaide, and, to conclude, and befitting a genial evening of musicianship and wit, an unaccompanied song of good cheer, Ballyhooly. With a set as thoughtful and accomplished as this one, let us hope it will be a while yet before Andy Irvine tires of the road.

The Adelaide Review, No.161, February, 1997, p.32.