How are things in Glocca Morra? Is that little brook still leapin' there? I have absolutely no idea, I must admit. Mainly, because Glocca Morra does not exist. It's a fabrication; a figment of the imagination and a plasticized, sugar-coated, manifestation of all that is sick-making about Ireland and the Irish. Glocca Morra is, in fact, about as far from Ireland as it is possible to get without the use of a time machine or a strong hallucinogenic drug.
Despite all that, Ian Gallagher, on his perplexingly entitled album, My Ireland, still insists on asking us how things are in that fantastical place. I think it's appropriate, though, insomuch that it summarizes, quite neatly, the entire CD. I found it to be a sentimental fabrication of Ireland and the Irish as they never existed, and quite possibly (hopefully) the worst CD I will hear this year.
I am the last person that this CD should have been sent to for review. I'm a music lover (especially the traditional Irish variety); I like authentic Irish music that is well played and sung. This album has very few of those things. What, for example, is the 'Swing and Sway' medley doing here? It includes 'Boogie Woogie Bugle Boy', 'Take The A Train' and (wait for it) 'American Patrol'! OK, they are very listenable tunes - when in the right hands (Glenn Miller's preferably). But they have no place, as far as I can see, on a CD called My Ireland. Mr Gallagher does, of course, offer us his rendition of 'Danny Boy' (I'm not gonna be the one to tell him it was written by an Englishman!) and 'Sing Me An Old Irish Song'. But he doesn't do them well. The last, sustained note on the aforementioned Derry air is painfully flat, and he frequently strains to reach other elusive notes outside of his apparently limited range.
This is an old fashioned, sing-along show band type of CD that will, I have no doubt, find an audience. Ian Gallagher does have a show band background, and no doubt wows them in the dance halls in Jersey (US); and that is where this CD will likely be well received, and who were led to believe that this is what Irish music is like. But I am not wowed by this unashamedly schmaltzy serving of what, at best, is a mistaken attempt to cash in on the Irish interest overseas, and at worst, at insult to those of us who know the difference between authentic Irish Songs - OK, the Percy French is acceptable - but 'Red Roses for a Blue Lady' is sung with what could only have been a sore throat.
Equally puzzling are the inclusion of instrumental pieces that do have some Irish leanings. Ian Gallagher is not credited with playing any of the instruments, and so it becomes something of a mystery to know why they are there at all. I must admit that the track I enjoyed most was a solo fiddle rendition of 'The Dear Irish Boy'. Regrettably, it was over far too soon and there HE was again, warbling on about My Ireland.
Apparently, Ian Gallagher 'just can't live in Ireland any more'. I knew there was a pot of gold at the end of that Rainbow!
Find out about Ian Gallagher's memories of Roscommon and showband music at his web site.
