History Shanne Bradley? (the song not the person)

[RevRob]

Does anybody have any information or history on the tune "Shanne Bradley"? I must have listened to this song hundreds of times and it still gives me chills. Brilliantly performed. I was just curious why the song got it's name from MacGowan's former band member, whom actually performed in that session, basic origins of the song... Stuff like that. Thanks.

[philipchevron]

Does anybody have any information or history on the tune "Shanne Bradley"? I must have listened to this song hundreds of times and it still gives me chills. Brilliantly performed. I was just curious why the song got it's name from MacGowan's former band member, whom actually performed in that session, basic origins of the song... Stuff like that. Thanks.

We recorded it twice, first at Abbey Road and then at RAK, both 1987. The Abbey Road recording, available on the 5-CD Box Set, was a fairly conventional one, with myself (guitar), James (accordion), Terry (cittern), Darryl (Bass), Andrew (drums) and Jem (does he play banjo on this?) all shielded away behind sound baffles to aid separation. The RAK version took a different approach, with Steve Lillywhite placing us all in a circle aroubd the mikes to encourage sound spillage, though the subsequent overdubs - harp, tin whistle etc, are all recorded in the conventional way. Sorry I can't be more specific about all the instruments, it was a long time ago. The RAk recording is the one on the b side of Fairytale of New York and on the various versions of the If I Should Fall From Grace With God CD.

The piece is so titled in the tradition of the Irish harper and composer Turlough O'Carolan, who frequently wrote pieces (usually called a "Planxty", but not always) in praise of or in honour of a favoured patron, friend or lover. The tune itself is certainly inspired by O'Carolan's work, first heard to its astonishingly contemporary-sounding effect on Sean O'Riada's albums on Gael Linn from the late 50s through the mid-60s, before his orchestra, Ceoltóirí Cualainn (sp), mutated into The Chieftains.

Seán O'Riada's work was an enormous influence on Celtic-Rock band Horslips, in particular their keyboard player/flautist Jim Lockhart, and this was the route that took me back to both O'Carolan and O'Riada. Interestingly enough, bith O'Riada and Lockhart were essentially jazz musicians who addressed Irish music with that particular skill set. O'Riada was an extraordinary revelation to me - I had never heard Irish music played like that before or since. Just listen to "The Rights Of Man" and get transported. O'Riada also had one of Ireland's greatest ever singers, Sean O'Sé, in his line up, a man who is, fortunately, still with us.

I have digressed somewhat from the topic but perhaps not - I know that Shane (who of course wrote "Shanne Bradley") is at least as big an O'Riada nut as myself.

Sean O'Riada's son Peadar, a great musician in his own right, supplied the Carolanesque/O'Riadaesque string arrangement for the end of "London You're A Lady" on the Peace And Love album.

[RevRob]

First off, I really appreciate you taking the time to uncover the great origins of a great tune. But most importantly thank you for opening up another avenue of Irish music for myself and others to explore. Were there ever discussions or explorations into recording an exclusively instrumental Pogues album, possibly after the departure of MacGowan in the 90s? I realize the market may not be drooling for this type of album, but for rhythm and harmony nuts such as myself it would have been quite a treat. I have finally found peace within myself that there very possibly will not be any further Pogues material to be recorded, but any leads you may have to any current or obscure past bands with the Irish-Jazz (per say) foundation would be greatly appreciated. Taking noting away from bands such as The Tossers, Murphys, Popes, Flogging Molly etc, I sorely miss the fine acoustic driven melodies that the Pogues gave me growing up.

[philipchevron]

First off, I really appreciate you taking the time to uncover the great origins of a great tune. But most importantly thank you for opening up another avenue of Irish music for myself and others to explore. Were there ever discussions or explorations into recording an exclusively instrumental Pogues album, possibly after the departure of MacGowan in the 90s? I realize the market may not be drooling for this type of album, but for rhythm and harmony nuts such as myself it would have been quite a treat. I have finally found peace within myself that there very possibly will not be any further Pogues material to be recorded, but any leads you may have to any current or obscure past bands with the Irish-Jazz (per say) foundation would be greatly appreciated. Taking noting away from bands such as The Tossers, Murphys, Popes, Flogging Molly etc, I sorely miss the fine acoustic driven melodies that the Pogues gave me growing up.

A Pogues instrumental album would, at any time, but most especially after we split with Shane, have been pregnant with "meanings" we had never intended. I guarantee that, whatever the quality of the album on its own merits, every single review would have been headed "Pogues lose their voice". In any event, I don't think we were ever less than happy with the ratio of vocal tracks to instrumentals set out on our albums from the beginning. Jeff Roesgen, the guy who wrote the Rum, Sodomy and the Lash book makes a great point, in relation to "A Pistol For Paddy Garcia": "......it revealed a new dimension of the band: one that could convey landscape and emotion without Shane's lyrics."

[Clash Cadillac]

The piece is so titled in the tradition of the Irish harper and composer Turlough O'Carolan, who frequently wrote pieces (usually called a "Planxty", but not always) in praise of or in honour of a favoured patron, friend or lover. The tune itself is certainly inspired by O'Carolan's work, first heard to its astonishingly contemporary-sounding effect on Sean O'Riada's albums on Gael Linn from the late 50s through the mid-60s, before his orchestra, Ceoltóirí Cualainn (sp), mutated into The Chieftains.

Seán O'Riada's work was an enormous influence on Celtic-Rock band Horslips, in particular their keyboard player/flautist Jim Lockhart, and this was the route that took me back to both O'Carolan and O'Riada. Interestingly enough, bith O'Riada and Lockhart were essentially jazz musicians who addressed Irish music with that particular skill set. O'Riada was an extraordinary revelation to me - I had never heard Irish music played like that before or since. Just listen to "The Rights Of Man" and get transported. O'Riada also had one of Ireland's greatest ever singers, Sean O'Sé, in his line up, a man who is, fortunately, still with us.

I have found both O'Carolan and O'Riada in Doc Harry's "library". Harry filled in a little more history of these musicians for me and one of the legends has it that O'Carolan was so talented that he once listened to a complex instrumental performed by another musician (I forget which instrument) for the first time, then sat down and played it right back on the harp with modifications to enhance the complexity. I look forward to "investigating" further.

[philipchevron]

The piece is so titled in the tradition of the Irish harper and composer Turlough O'Carolan, who frequently wrote pieces (usually called a "Planxty", but not always) in praise of or in honour of a favoured patron, friend or lover. The tune itself is certainly inspired by O'Carolan's work, first heard to its astonishingly contemporary-sounding effect on Sean O'Riada's albums on Gael Linn from the late 50s through the mid-60s, before his orchestra, Ceoltóirí Cualainn (sp), mutated into The Chieftains.

Seán O'Riada's work was an enormous influence on Celtic-Rock band Horslips, in particular their keyboard player/flautist Jim Lockhart, and this was the route that took me back to both O'Carolan and O'Riada. Interestingly enough, bith O'Riada and Lockhart were essentially jazz musicians who addressed Irish music with that particular skill set. O'Riada was an extraordinary revelation to me - I had never heard Irish music played like that before or since. Just listen to "The Rights Of Man" and get transported. O'Riada also had one of Ireland's greatest ever singers, Sean O'Sé, in his line up, a man who is, fortunately, still with us.

I have found both O'Carolan and O'Riada in Doc Harry's "library". Harry filled in a little more history of these musicians for me and one of the legends has it that O'Carolan was so talented that he once listened to a complex instrumental performed by another musician (I forget which instrument) for the first time, then sat down and played it right back on the harp with modifications to enhance the complexity. I look forward to "investigating" further.

It is very possible O'Carolan did this and just as possible that Mozart, about whom a variation on this urban legend is also told, did the same. But my theory is the story has its origins in some ancient feud between Mozartologists and Carolanites and, indeed, there is some substance in the notion - they were, seemingly, near-contemporaries in every other respect - that had Carolan been born on Mainland Europe and not one of its satellite islands, his greatness may have been loudly proclaimed a long time ago. My opinion, for what its worth, is that though Carolan's late work, especially his heartbreaking "Farewell To Music", is certainly comparable to Mozart's late music, there is little evidence that O'Carolan, over the course of a whole career, was quite in the same class, great though he was. What he did have in common with Mozart, however, was that wonderful facility with his tune-writing that made the tunes appear to write themselves as they went along without ever sounding hackneyed or generic.

The third Horslips album, Dancehall Sweethearts (RCA, 1974) was a partially successful attempt to see O'Carolan's life and work through direct contrast with his modern equivalent - a rock band touring the highways and byways of its native Ireland. Horslips played on the fact that they were literally the only Irish rock band who could then play the Ballrooms of Romance circuit more associated with the Irish Showbands, to zone in on aspects of loneliness, solitude and going mad with the drink. In many ways one of Horslips strongest albums, it is compromised by an occasional lapse where the central concept is buried or just plain overlooked. But given the resonance the album and its concept has with the Miami Showband Massacre around that time, it can be a chilling and haunting piece even now. Horslips also played with Carolan's blindness (most of the itinerant or nomadic musical bards were blind, and music was a conventional escape route from the economic harshness of a world in which your disability could otherwise lead to starvation) to explore ideas about enhanced spiritual sight being given to those from whom physical sight has been robbed.

[dsweeney]

" Shanne Bradley " is , for me, quite simply the most beautiful of all Shane's instrumentals. Simple but brilliant melody rooted firmly in the traditional. I first had it on the box-set and loved it but I have now come around to preferring the "official " release of it. The harp on it transports me to another century. Pure Irish Poguetry and the most under -rated of all their tracks. If this was played on Irish radio it would be a huge hit, it's just that nobody knows of it. This is the " timeless " music that Shane spoke of before having chart hits bacame part of the process. Fast becoming one of my favourite Pogue song. Like the O' Carolan info as well. I think I'm right in saying his " Give me your hand " or " Tabhair dom do lamh " is the instrumental middle section of " The broad majestic Shannon".

[pogues24]

I love Shanne Bradley, simple, yet beautiful and it remains one of The Pogues many jewels in their crown.