Why Irish music, anyway?It seems like such a simple, straightforward question. Four little words, surely a few words to answer and move on, not a topic of length and debate. To those of us who have found ourselves entrenched within the Irish traditional music scene, it's not a matter why we pursue the tunes to such great lengths. We just do. It is what it is and we love it. Trying to explain it to an outsider with any degree of success is like trying to explain color to someone who sees in black and white. It is only explainable to a certain degree until one side or the other just has to nod, smile, and say they understand, before continuing on with their lives as normal. Irish traditional musicians see and hear something incredibly special and enticing within the music, the community, the instruments, the craic; something that is difficult to view from the outside.
So why Irish music, anyway?
As an outsider entering the tradition, it is even more difficult, I believe, to explain why we become constant listeners, why we become constant players, why we become obsessed with this foreign music. Someone who was raised in the scene might have a simpler answer to "Why Irish music, anyway?" It is what they have heard since en womb and often played since they were old enough to sit upright by themselves. It is as much a part of their life as taking the evening meal together is in some families. As an outsider that question becomes a daunting shadow; family and friends outside the obsession don't always understand your lifestyle. They question your choices and your mental stability. They don't accept a simple, straightforward answer, even if there was one to give.
Why Irish music, anyway?
I am thankful I was able to meet a (relatively new) friend up in Ennis last weekend and then again in Tulla this weekend. We are both in the same boat as we were not raised in the Irish music tradition, but have entered it from the outsider's point of view. We both have traveled extensively to find tunes and build relationships with others that fulfill this longing for the music. We have both spent hours in a week listening, practicing, playing with others, picking apart techniques and styles of famed players, trying to replicate their sound in order to become more fully ingrained in this tradition. And we are not alone. I have friends that have moved halfway around the world to be close to good tunes, friends who have selected cities to live in based on whether or not there was a session close by, friends who listen to little else but the diddling fingers of their favorite Irish traditional musician at the time. Many of these did not grow up in a family of Irish musicians, but have come to it of their own accord, for one reason or another.
Anyway. Why Irish music?
Since our meeting in July, my friend and I have extensive discussions and created many theories regarding a variety of things Irish. She is traveling now with her husband and her father and mother in-law. They were kind enough to let me join them for a few days during the Tulla Trad Festival. Our make-up was as follows: two deeply entrenched Irish musicians, one interested and learning the fiddle, one who appreciates hanging in pubs drinking tasty liquids and friendly conversation, and one who doesn't mind tagging along for a bit to these (seeming to her, I'm certain) ridiculous activities. The balance of our group made for some interesting discussion and debates about music, playing, learning, and living within a traditional music society. It was not far into the weekend when the question was raised:
Why this obsession with Irish music, anyway?
Such a question has so many layers and angles, but during our exchange, we hit on an interesting comparison, I believe brought to light by my friend's father-in-law.
We play Irish music because we do not skydive.Yes, I am sure there are Irish traditional musicians out there that do skydive, but let me delve into a bit deeper. As a regular session-goer, there are several things you can do at any given session.
1) Enjoy the music: sit back, listen, relax, and have a drink (beer, whiskey, and tea are the culturally accepted choices),
2) Bring your instrument and join in when someone else starts a tune you know,
3) Learn tunes on the fly within the safety of large numbers (NOT recommend for small, intimate sessions, when someone is playing a solo or duet, for a chance to "noodle" through a tune, an excuse to accompany or harmonize because you don't know the tune, or if you play an instrument in which there is no dynamic control!),
4) Start a set.
Of these options, words I've heard often associated with the fourth are:
Maybe once I've warmed up.
I'm a bit rusty, maybe next week.
When I think of a good tune.
No.
It can be terrifying as a new player, or someone new to a particular session, to be asked to start a tune. In the world of an outsider entering the Irish music world, it may be akin to skydiving. You know you want to do it. You've seen others do it, and do it to degrees of highest success. You understand there's an excitement that can come from leading a set on your own. But you also understand the pure terror those little words, "would you like to start a set?" can bring to your head and fingers.
Given the stress of this step on the way into traditional music, jumping into the world of starting sets can be a serious problem for many players. All eyes and ears are on you. The possibility that you will mess up a transition, switch B parts for another tune, not get the attention of the group when you are ready to change, or completely stop at the most inappropriate time causing a train wreck and a disastrous cacophony of sound, is extremely high. But once you've been in this world for a little bit, you know that starting sets at sessions pushes you further along your work toward becoming an Irish musician. Perhaps not the pinnacle of existence in this world, but certainly a leap toward the level of becoming a full participant in a session. It marks movement from follower to leader, from bystander to contributor. Starting a set takes an act of courage, knowledge, practice, and a bit of faith. You can train and prepare in your own time for the moment, but when the instant arrives to jump, you have to trust in yourself and allow the space to fall. As with many activities, it is the first time that is the most intimidating. Once you've jumped out of that plane, it gets a bit easier each moment you come up to that open door again. And upon a safe landing, the satisfaction of your accomplishment makes it worth every moment in trepidation.
Skydiving has never enticed me to jump. Irish traditional music entices me to train for the next dive every day.
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