The penultimate gig of their Irish tour saw the deadly duo enter quietly stage left, and with the minimum of fuss, launch into two hours plus of some of the best music I have ever heard. Their approach is deconstructionist, infusing the tunes with a curious admixture of rock rhythms, original phrasing and more, never once letting go of the notion that this is the people’s art.

Music that lives on the edge, it constantly challenges both player and listener. Tunes like ‘The Old Clare Reel’ are given a new coat, but ever aware that the old one has been draped over a chair. It is music that is full of soul, from the slow airs where every breath is inhaled with delicacy, to the wilder, more passionate stuff which sees Hayes’ curly mane being shaken in sync with the life force that is the duo’s music.

Cahill’s guitar and mandolin playing is crucial to the equation, each note and tune being forged out of something that is beyond telepathy. The hushed auditorium became a collective front room for those there assembled. No notes were taken by your humble scribe – the occasion was too intimate for that. But I will savour the memory of each note as if they were nuggets of pure gold nonetheless.

Music like this, my friends, is beyond criticism, and belongs to a higher order altogether.