•
Rating: The Cruachan were born in the early 90s in Ireland based on an idea by Keith Fay, the leader, the Alessandro del Piero of the situation, a true innovator of Folk Metal, and probably the inventor of Celtic Metal, one of its subgenres, a combo of Celtic music (Keith Fay himself is a singer and player, along with other band members, of various folk instruments such as flutes, bouzouki, bodhràn, and mandolins) and Heavy/Death metal.
The debut album, Tuatha Na Gael (1995), is certainly very positive and well-received by critics, but the Celtic influences are scarce and often overshadowed by Black Metal (except in a few episodes, such as the chilling song Brian Boru!!!) and for this reason, I cannot fully appreciate this album. The work that excites me the most is "Folk-Lore," the third release by the Irish, where the atmospheres become lighter, more evocative, and relaxing, also thanks to the band's new addition, singer Karen Gilligan, who provides a touch of sweetness to the compositions. "Folk-lore" still features many metallic sections, where the riffs range from Black to pure Heavy, which could have been played by a slightly pissed off Tommy Iommy.
The Irish bards begin their work by singing about one of the greatest massacres in Ireland: Bloody Sunday. On the tragic day of January 30, 1972, during a peaceful demonstration, 13 civilians lost their lives, attacked by the British army. Many witnesses who did not take part in the incidents, including some journalists, stated that the protesters hit were unarmed. To this day, serious judicial measures still need to be taken to archive the case, thus carrying out proper justice (sadly, justice is a rather abstract thing unfortunately). Unlike many of their folk-metal counterparts, Cruachan show themselves to be not only tied to the usual, trivial, boring, and banal themes (hail war, swords, blood, glory through the ages, beer, and our mythical and heroic ancestors) but also become proponents of true pieces of social criticism.
The album continues with tracks that are never boring, predictable, or banal but very varied and interesting. Among the best songs, I highlight two reworkings of traditional Irish songs: The Rocky Road To Dublin and Spancil Hill. Even though these two pieces are reinterpreted in a metal key, they manage to maintain the energy, joy, and the irresistible urge to move your butt that phenomenal Irish ballads give to listeners (if you want to listen to another reworking of an Irish tradition in Cruachan style, I recommend Some Say The Devil Is Dead, present in the album "Pagan"). However, the real masterpieces of the album are other tracks, such as the moving Susie Moran, the relaxing, evocative, and at the same time energetic Death Of A Gael, and especially the extraordinary Ride On. The piece starts with a flute. After a short solo, a pleasant acoustic arpeggio, a sad violin, the excellent Joe Farrel's drums, and Karen Gillan's singing are layered over the basic melody. The emotional peak of the track and the entire album comes with the excellent chorus, a duet between the female and male voice:
Ride on, see you, I could never go with you
No matter how I wanted to.
In summary, it can be safely said that "Folk-Lore" is one of the freshest, most original, engaging, and best accomplished albums of the Folk-Metal movement, and can therefore be safely enjoyed by everyone, even by listeners who do not particularly love the genre. I therefore suggest buying the CD, or downloading it from eMule, or if really looking for something on YouTube (if my grandfather could read a sentence like this, he would surely think of locking me up in some asylum).
With this, I think I've said everything, thank you for the time you've dedicated to me, and God willing, I'll see you tomorrow.
Tracklist and Lyrics
01 Bloody Sunday (04:15)
[Music & Words: KF]
Remember well the 30th of January,
The feeling of dread that was in the air.
The people marched for their right to equality,
They only wanted to be treated fair.
Shots were fired my a mindless military,
The people ran they were unarmed
Across the world we will read of Derry
And those who died by oppressive hands.
13 people lost their lives that Sunday,
Women, children and innocent men.
Many wounded lay crying in agony,
The knights of Malta attended them.
And so began the government cover up.
And so began the lies and deceit.
Soldiers statement would be changed and torn up,
No reports would come from men on the street.
As the years went by the people began to talk,
The hidden crimes were now being told.
Innocent protestors - shot in back,
Left to die in the winter cold.
The bullets used had all been tampered,
Maximum injury would come from them.
This tyranny will not go un-noticed,
Our day will come again.
03 Death of a Gael (05:38)
[Music & Words: KF]
A warrior so proud of the woman by his side,
His faithful heart would take no other bride,
For three years they lived,
midst the forests of the land,
Strong and proud was the love
of this woman and man
Like the sky high above,
no beginning and no end,
The woman that he loves,
his life and best friend.
Until that day in December
when the snowstorms did start,
Stalked the Norseman with his bow,
put an arrow through his heart.
Hear the cry, the cry of the winter wind,
Blowing across the land,
stealing his life from him,
From the earth, and into the otherworld,
the land of Tír Na n-Óg,
is the place where he must go.
"Woman come to my side,
let your arms shield my pain,
For I know will not spend
another day with you again."
They say she will not move
from the place where he did die,
Once so strong and so proud,
She cannot talk but cry.
04 The Rocky Road to Dublin (03:07)
(Arrangement: KF Words: Unknown)
In the merry month of June,
from me home I started,
Left the girls of Tuam nearly broken-hearted,
Saluted father dear, kissed me darlin' mother,
Drank a pint of beer
My grief and tears to smother.
Then off to reap the corn
and leave where I was born,
Cut a stout black-thorn to banish ghosts and goblins,
A brand new pair of brogues
I rattled o'er the bogs,
Frightened all the dogs
on the rocky road to Dublin.
CHORUS:
One two three four five,
hunt the hare and turn her,
Down the rocky road and all the way to Dublin,
Whack fol lal de da!
In Mullingar that night I rested limbs so weary,
Started by daylight next morning light and airy,
Took a drop of the pure
To keep me heart from sinking,
That's the Paddy's cure,
When'er he's on for drinking,
To see the lasses smile, laughing all the while,
At me curious style
would set your heart a bubbling,
They asked if I was hired, the wages I required,
Till I was nearly tired
of the rocky road to Dublin.
Chorus.
In Dublin next arrived, I thought it such a pity,
To be so soon deprived a view of that fine city,
Then I took a stroll - all among the quality,
Me bundle it was stole in a neat locality:
Something crossed me mind,
then I looked behind,
No bundle could I find upon me stick a wobblin',
Inquiring for the rogue,
they said me Connaught brogue,
Wasn't much in vogue
on the rocky road to Dublin
Chorus.
From there I got away me spirits never failing,
Landed on the quay as the ship was sailing,
Captain at me roared, said that no room had he,
When I jumped aboard, a cabin found for Paddy,
Down among the pigs I played some funny rigs,
Danced some hearty jigs,
the water round me bubblin',
When off to Holyhead I wished meself was dead,
Or better far instead,
the rocky road to Dublin
The boys of Liverpool, when we safely landed,
Called meself a fool, I could no longer stand it,
Blood began to boil, temper I was losin',
Poor old Eierann's isle they began abusin',
"Hurrah me soul" says I, shillelagh I let fly,
Galway boys were by, saw I was a hobble in,
then with a loud hurrah, They joined in the affray,
We quickly cleared the way
for the rocky road to Dublin
Chorus.
06 Spancill Hill (06:00)
[Arrangement: KF Words: Tradional]
Last night as I lay dreaming
of pleasant days gone by,
Me mind been bent on rambling,
to Ireland I did fly,
I stepped on board a vision
and followed with a will
Till next I came to anchor
at the cross near Spancill Hill.
Delighted by the novelty,
enchanted with the scene,
Where in me early boyhood - often I had been,
I thought I heard a murmur
and I think I hear it still
It's the little stream of water
that flows down Spancill Hill.
To amuse a passing fancy
I lay down on the ground,
And all my school companions
they shortly gathered round
When we were home returning
we danced with bright goodwill,
To Martin Moynahan's music
at the cross at Spancill Hill.
It was on the 24th of June,
the day before the fair
When Ireland's sons and daughters
and all assembled there,
The young, the old, the brave, the bold
came their duty to fulfil,
At the little church in Clooney,
a mile from Spancill Hill.
I went to see me neighbours
to see what they might say,
The old ones they were dead and gone,
the young ones turning grey,
I met the tailor Quigley, he was bold as ever still,
sure he used to make my britches
when I lived at Spancill Hill.
I paid a flying visit to me first and only love,
She's as fair as any lilly and gentle as a dove,
She threw her arms around me
crying "Johnny I love you still",
She was a farmer's daughter,
the pride of Spancill Hill.
Well I dreamt I hugged and kissed her
as in the days of yore
She said "Johnny you're only joking"
as many the times before,
The cock crew in the morning,
he crew both loud and shrill
And I awoke in California,
many miles from Spancill Hill.
08 Ride On (04:41)
[Arrangement: KF,JF Words: Tradional]
True, you ride the finest horse I've ever seen,
Standing sixteen, one or two,
with eyes wide and green,
And you ride the horse so well,
hands light to the touch,
I could never go with you
no matter how I wanted to.
[CHORUS:]
Ride on, see you,
I could never go with you
No matter how I wanted to.
When you ride into the night
without a trace behind,
Run your claw along my gut, one last time.
I turn to face an empty space
where you used to lie,
And look for a spark that lights the night
through a teardrop in my eye.
[CHORUS]
09 Susie Moran (04:11)
[Music & Words: KF]
Life for you it was not easy,
And at times was so unfair.
In a time when works was scarce,
Many burdens were yours to bear.
You bore the brunt of grief,
When Patrick left the earth.
Such a tragedy to happen,
To a child 4 months since birth.
When Husband Jack did lay,
Fore years in a hospital bed,
You were by his side relentlessly,
To help him through this dread.
You had no time for science,
Technology was not your friend.
You lived your life in black and white,
Until the very end.
You've gone now to that other place,
Your work on earth is done.
Jack is waiting there for you,
In his arms he holds your son.
We know it may be long,
Before we hear your voice again.
You will always be remembered,
Never forgotten - Susie Moran.
11 To Invoke the Horned God (06:02)
He holds a twisted torc in his hand,
the forests are his ruling land.
Great god Cernunnos, return to Earth again,
come at my call and show thyself to men,
sheperd of goats, upon the wild hills way,
lead thy lost flock from darkness unto day
the Horned God is our nature deity,
yet modern man would from his presence flee.
Forgotten are the ways of sleep and night,
men seek for them, whose eyes have lost the light,
open the door, the door that hath no key,
the door of dreams, wereby men come to thee
Sheperd of goats, O answer unto me!
The summerlands is where we shall meet thee.
To invoke thee...
The Horned God.
Loading comments slowly
