Over the years I've built up a modest repertoire of tunes. These scraps of melodies dance in some cluttered corner of my brain waiting to be unpacked and set free The unpacking usually takes place among musicianers in one sacred place or another. On great nights, there is the holy incense of a turf fire, and a spiritual lubrication might sit nearby for the gob. For conversation will invariably occupy the open meadows between the tunes. In exceptional circumstances sandwiches might arrive and dancing could take place, sometimes on the back of upturned doors, tables or Liscannor flag floors. During this seance, news will arrive to the table of comrades near and far.
here is a little unpacking.
Published on 5th March 2019
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