Rumours are circulating that he’ll be pitching up at a Grafton St. near you a few days later to bang out a few tunes with his mate Bono (which later comes to pass), but right now it’s time for another Glen Hansard festive tradition. The flame-haired Frames man returns to his home from home of Vicar St., as he has done for many years, regardless of where he’s been in the globe in the surrounding months. It’s a very Irish kind of homecoming. Recently, of course, he’s had something of a late ‘gap year’ in New York, where he concocted his first ever solo album, the well-received Rhythm & Repose. Working from that sturdy new material backwards into the depths of his extensive catalogue, bringing out old friends and musical allies, it’s a real history of Hansard in sound. Indeed, when a member of the audience is revealed to be a teacher at Glen’s old school (by way of her shouting out in the brief quiet between songs) and she launches into quite a lengthy speech about how terrific the Ballymun artist was to return to Holy Spirit BNS recently and perform with the choir, it’s in danger of becoming a gig for believers only. Thankfully Hansard in full flight is a real master in the art of conversion. It’s easy to put your faith in him when he’s on this kind of form. And what a pool of musical gems he now has at his disposal. But for this writer’s money, it’s actually the early stuff of the set (read: the latest stuff) that entrances most this evening.
It’s a purposely tentative, seductive opening, as the building ‘You Will Become’ greets an expectant audience and ‘Philander’ smoulders. The 12-strong band add depth and richness, as strings, keys and brass conjure up a stately air. Better yet is ‘Talking With The Wolves’, which sounds like In Rainbows-era Radiohead and unlike anything he’s done before. The musical highlight of the night. ‘Bird Of Sorrow’ is also strong, ending with the star doing his trademark passionately-shouty bit. It’s a trick he rolls out time and again on famous Frame numbers, while his Van Morrison cover is accompanied by a story about how he would listen religiously to The Man with his late pal Mic Christopher. A time to remember absent friends. And then a few still with us join him onstage. Around the 11 mark, we’re witnessing a full Frames reunion, as ‘Revelate’ sends the audience into raptures. You could leave now content, but no-one does. And the show continues on well into the night, with cameos from Glen’s niece and the always wonderful Lisa Hannigan. By the late, late end, hours into the show, there’s a gang on stage as ‘Heyday’ plays. In more ways than one, a memorable Midnight Mass.
Rumours are circulating that he’ll be pitching up at a Grafton St. near you a few days later to bang out a few tunes with his mate Bono (which later comes to pass), but right now it’s time for another Glen Hansard festive tradition. The flame-haired Frames man returns to his home from home of Vicar St., as he has done for many years, regardless of where he’s been in the globe in the surrounding months. It’s a very Irish kind of homecoming. Recently, of course, he’s had something of a late ‘gap year’ in New York, where he concocted his first ever solo album, the well-received Rhythm & Repose. Working from that sturdy new material backwards into the depths of his extensive catalogue, bringing out old friends and musical allies, it’s a real history of Hansard in sound. Indeed, when a member of the audience is revealed to be a teacher at Glen’s old school (by way of her shouting out in the brief quiet between songs) and she launches into quite a lengthy speech about how terrific the Ballymun artist was to return to Holy Spirit BNS recently and perform with the choir, it’s in danger of becoming a gig for believers only. Thankfully Hansard in full flight is a real master in the art of conversion. It’s easy to put your faith in him when he’s on this kind of form. And what a pool of musical gems he now has at his disposal. But for this writer’s money, it’s actually the early stuff of the set (read: the latest stuff) that entrances most this evening.
It’s a purposely tentative, seductive opening, as the building ‘You Will Become’ greets an expectant audience and ‘Philander’ smoulders. The 12-strong band add depth and richness, as strings, keys and brass conjure up a stately air. Better yet is ‘Talking With The Wolves’, which sounds like In Rainbows-era Radiohead and unlike anything he’s done before. The musical highlight of the night. ‘Bird Of Sorrow’ is also strong, ending with the star doing his trademark passionately-shouty bit. It’s a trick he rolls out time and again on famous Frame numbers, while his Van Morrison cover is accompanied by a story about how he would listen religiously to The Man with his late pal Mic Christopher. A time to remember absent friends. And then a few still with us join him onstage. Around the 11 mark, we’re witnessing a full Frames reunion, as ‘Revelate’ sends the audience into raptures. You could leave now content, but no-one does. And the show continues on well into the night, with cameos from Glen’s niece and the always wonderful Lisa Hannigan. By the late, late end, hours into the show, there’s a gang on stage as ‘Heyday’ plays. In more ways than one, a memorable Midnight Mass.