Raising a glass to a wee bit of diddly eye

So, over the last twenty-two years or so, Irish and Celtic roots music have been an important part of my life. I remember the early days of watching “Riverdance”, and listening to The Corrs and Loreena McKennitt with my husband while we both got ready for work in the morning. It seemed that a modernized version of Celtic culture had become petty trendy at the time. While it wasn’t unusual for me to pick up new music at bookstores or online, I never imagined it would turn into standing in line at merchandise tables to buy CDs from newly discovered bands at Irish festivals, but it did, and I  have even followed certain festival favorites to other venues and events.

When I had an opportunity to attend the Kansas City Irish Festival over this past weekend, it was to see a few of those bands again, and one for probably the last time.

The world of Irish and Celtic roots music can best be described in the same way geologists describe layers of rock—in terms of strata.

Without question, there is a top layer of Irish music that is fairly well-known to most everyone. Bands like U2, iconic performers like Van Morrison, and the Chieftains often come to mind, and maybe very close beneath that layer are Snow Patrol and The Cranberries. Recent newcomers, the Script, Three Door Cinema Club and Kodaline remind us hardcore Irish music fans that just as the country we so dearly love and feel connected to is constantly evolving, its music scene is as well.

Rock and pop bands from Ireland bring something to the table that is familiar, and easy to tap into from almost any vantage point, but unless you dig in, or happen to be culturally engaged with it, the other strata of Irish and Celtic roots music might be easy to miss. And that would be a shame.

On our most recent trip to Ireland, we sat down in our hotel’s restaurant after spending the day recovering from travel, and I remember my husband asking what was up in town that night. Our server, who was probably in her early twenties, told us that one of the local pubs was likely to have a band performing some “diddly eye” music.

“Diddly eye” isn’t exactly a complimentary description of traditional Irish music, but it certainly follows the natural current of the young finding the old tedious and quaint. As the old, a couple of pints over an hour or so of traditional music seemed a good way to settle into our trip—but we were “too cool” to admit that to our server.

I have no doubt that diddly eye music is pervasive enough in the tourist spots of Ireland to warrant the figurative eye roll the term depicts. But the truth is, those of us who dig into traditional Irish music—or “trad” seek so much more than an evening’s entertainment. I would argue that we are seeking to deepen our connection to a culture, spirit, and land to which we either have an ancestral, or spiritual claim. We need to be transported to the musical space that connects us to local ceilis of the past, or to the long lost voices of the land before anyone else’s culture invaded.

We need that connection so much, that we seek it out at home as well.

My first introduction to the combination of contemporary and traditional Irish music was the band founded by the Corrs family. The blend of accessible pop, traditional fiddle, melodic vocals, and booming drums informed me that something preciously ancient could easily marry something new, and both might be made even be the better for it.

Soon after that, I was listening to my local National Public Radio station, when I heard a local Celtic rock band talking about the release of their new album “Pass It Down”. I quickly fell in love with the sentimental ballad “Love of the Century”. After hearing them talk about, and play their music, I wanted to see them perform live. On a rainy Kansas City night, we ended up at an Elders Hoolie in the parking lot of the Record Bar.

There was an unbelievable energy and joy in that tent. Let’s just say that my husband and I got swept away by a couple of exuberant folks in the crowd, and before we could say “no thank you”, we were locked arms with these strangers, and doing our best to keep up.

In the years that followed, they were the foundation of the Celtic music scene in Kansas City, and they were the reason to attend Irish Fest in Kansas City, and Weston, Missouri. Over the years, I discovered new Celtic bands with which to connect. In many of those cases, the music was more modern, and sometimes more youthfully packaged. I grew to like the contemporary side of the Celtic tradition the Elders had drawn  me to so much, that I often skipped their set.

I was amazed at how far these bands traveled to play our festival. Bands from Scotland, Ireland, Nova Scotia—all wanting to be a part of the Irish Fest tapestry, both in Kansas City, and all over the world. The lines often blurred, because Celtic roots are like those of an ancient oak. They stretch out in all different directions, and pick up something new as they grow. From Irish trad, to Appalachian bluegrass, Celtic Rock, and so many niches in between, the genre can barely be defined, because it has become so joyfully inclusive. Sometimes, you may not even realize you’re hearing Celtic roots music.

The Celts may only claim seven nations, but their true reach is infinite in all directions. It reaches lands far and wide, and ears and hearts near and far.

Like a dutiful parishioner, I knew that I “should” see The Elders at the Kansas City Irish Fest one last time—for old time’s sake, because it was the right thing to do, because I “owed ‘em” that.

One last song!

For two hours, they reminded me of a truth that their music had originally taught me—you are always welcome to your roots. You are always welcome to your spiritual home—especially in the world of Celtic music, because the Celtic spirit, and all of the music informed by it just aren’t things from which you ever truly stray.

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