Christy Moore played the Royal Festival Hall last night with Declan Sinnott in support of new album Listen. He came on without a word or even a glance and started with a quiet lullaby of a song I didn't recognise. Almost sheepishly - like a piano-man in a bar, aware he's required to play but not wanting to intrude on the conversation.
I think his reticence is twofold; on the one hand he's a naturally humble, unassuming, sensitive soul, while on the other hand the music is delicate, intricate, even naked. As such he needs to start slowly giving it 4 or 5 songs to feel comfortable and to gauge the (inevitably adoring) audience. At one point last night he stopped between songs, asked whether we were having fun and then ( "Deccy and me are having a whale of a time up here" )- signalled his satisfaction that everything was ok and there was nothing to worry about. How could anyone not love this man (ok, perhaps anyone except a brash impatient teenager who's blithely unaware he's yet to learn).
So he sang lullabies, ditties, and airs, jaunty fictional satires and reinvented rock songs, and mixed it all with hilarious anecdotes about friends and mishaps (explaining why they didn't go off stage before accepting the encore - because they'd done that the previous night and gotten lost backstage! instead they ambled around in a circle on stage and then went straight back to their seats). It's always seemed like a gauche cliche before, but the two hour show flew by to such an extent I thought when they finished it was merely half time.
The highlight for me was the fantastically ancient "The Well Below the Valley", which he credited hearing and learning from John Reilly, and played unaccompanied except for a driving, pulsing primitive bodhran. And new song "Listen", an evocative lullaby which promises good things from the new album (£14 in the foyer... umm... no thanks, I'll try Amazon).
He played all the famous songs, "Beeswing", "Two Swans", "North and South"... including a particularly quiet, haunting "Ride On" (the curse of the hit strikes again) which the audience had long been clamouring for.
It wasn't really what I was expecting. Having previously only heard the records, mainly live records, I was expecting him to be commanding and assured. The contrast with the smooth arrogance of Richard Thompson is total. Both have a life-defining love of traditional music and, though Thompson is perhaps more of a voyager, Moore is a lot more likeable and generous spirit. Rather than playing a fairly well established repetoire I expected him to wander widely wherever the mood took him. Instead, he played most of the same tracks as the famous Live at Point 2006 album ... but mixed in a number of extremely delicate, inventive songs both old and new ... often so intimate it was almost embarassing to be eavesdropping. Whereas Morrison became transported and transcendent, once warmed up and relaxed Moore remained connected to his audience throughout, encouraging clapping and singing along, and dishing out witty jibes with the assured timing of a professional stand-up.
Of the many reasons to love him, another is the way he continually credited friends and peers with the writing and teaching of songs. "Chicago" from his brother Kevin Barry Moore (Luka Bloom to the rest of us). "The Ballad of Hattie Carroll" - Dylan (with an anecdote of Moore and Sinnott watching him from the wings, starstruck, at Glastonbury), and "The Magdalene Laundry" from Joni Mitchell... and obviously he's equally likely to natter about friends from back home as the famous people he's encountered. John Reilly, Ewan Macoll, Christy Hennessey, Richard Thompson...
My only technical point (a it's rare, minor feat in itself that he caught my attention to such an extent that I forgot about the technical) - I found captivating and clever his musical choice of Sinnott on electric guitar rather than a more predictable fiddle, say, or mandolin, or banjo. Even though the instrument performs the same function - musical counterpoint, highlighting, and improvisation, I think the incongruousness of the electric guitar playing traditional music catches and holds one's conscious attention more directly. In a subtle way, I think this means that your brain doesn't switch over to the auto-pilot that can occur where traditional songs and structures mechanically progress to their traditional conclusion. Even a song as sophisticated as "Ride On" is unavoidably soporific simply by it's familiar repetition, however framed and interspersed with a raw, shimmering electric guitar - you're a little less sure of what will happen next and this keeps you listening, making the experience more visceral.
Unqualified credit goes to "Deccy", not only for his sensitive, intelligent, entertaining playing, but also for his moral support and companionship given to one of the biggest-hearted and yet most-fragile, men alive.
I feel somehow.. honoured.. to have had the privilege to see two of Ireland's world class, historic and great musicians within a few months - Morrison, and Moore. They won't live forever, but I wish they could.
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