The ties that bind tradition and people are writ large across this album from singer and flute player Ríoghnach Connolly and her family. This Armagh clan bring a rich tapestry of influences to this sprawling collection of over 70 minutes of music, much of it rarely heard outside of its own locale.
No less than four generations of singers are gathered here, including an old recording of Ríoghnach’s great-great aunt Rosie Hurl (singing Old Ardboe) and her recently departed father, Tarlac Ua Conghalaigh. His warm, textured voice delivers a robust reading of Séamus Mac Murfaidh, bringing a powerful close to what is a wilfully diverse and open-hearted collection.
Aoibheann Devlin’s wirestrung harp, a copy of the Downhill harp preserved in the Guinness Storehouse, imbues Seabhac na hÉirne by Ruairí Dall Ó Catháin with an aptly aged quality, and her fiddle playing on Errigal Braes adds further to the sense of a fireside session captured in full motion.
Unsurprisingly, Ríoghnach’s own flute playing wraps itself around some finely chosen tunes, and her vocal treatment of Roddy McCorley and Cailín as Contae Lú weave a delicate web through complex stories.
Beauty & the Beast review: On the way home, younger audience members re-enact scenes. There’s no higher recommendation
Matt Cooper: I’m an only child. I’ve always been conscious of not having brothers or sisters
A Dublin scam: After more than 10 years in New York, nothing like this had ever happened to me
Patrick Freyne: I am becoming a demotivational speaker – let’s all have an averagely productive December
Taking their band name from the mermaid of Lough Neagh, the album title doffs its cap to things not apparent or unseen.
Thankfully Lí Bán are shedding a light on music and song too long confined – but now finally unleashed with verve.
