A lot of people are talking about Paddy Glackin's new album. It's also getting enthusiastic and deserved air play. Traditional followers have been looking forward to its release for some time. The LP is certainly among Gael Linn's finest releases.
But the person at the centre of it all is keeping a low profile. Paddy Glackin is an ordinary fella, so to speak, not a professional musician either. Fact, he works full time in the recording end of Comhaltas Ceoltoiri Eireann. He's one of the country's most renowned fiddlers, but it doesn't show in his apparently straightforward personality, which suggests more dedication than dash.
"I didn't try to do anything spectacular, more what came naturally to me, although there's things like double tracking on it.
"I got great satisfaction out of the tracks I did with Mick Sullivan. I felt we were creating something new without interfering with the music at all. But we didn't set any particular new goal. You see, I'm a very conservative person when it comes to music."
That comment is made with emphasis. It's worth examining. Paddy elaborates: "I'm not entirely happy with some younger people's interpretation of tunes, the sort of trendy approach. That's OK. But if you listen to Sean Keane or Tommy Peoples, they use that sort of thing, but it's how they apply it and where, that counts. People at the moment are onto a group trip. It's a way of playing music that fiddling has been forced into."
But can't the experience of listening to half a dozen musicians putting everything they've got into their playing turn new people on to the music?
Paddy insists: "There's a better outlet for traditional music in solo performance. It's essentially a solo art. Groups are only incidental to traditional music."
A founder member of the Bothy Band, Paddy left shortly afterwards, though he's quick to make clear there was no falling out. "The Bothy Band lifestyle didn't suit me, and mine didn't suit them. When they were willing to take the chance of going professional, it was time for me to get out, because I wasn't into that sort of thing at the time. I'd rather only play the odd gig."
So he's more at home now in his casual association with Ceoltoiri Laigheann, a group that carries on the tradition without being startlingly innovatory.
Paddy: "It's a completely different set-up to the Bothy Band. We don't play often and have only the odd rehearsal. When we do a gig it's more of an outing. With the Bothy Band it was pressure. There's ten people in Ceoltoiri Laigheann at the moment, but I think they're all necessary. It doesn't worry us anyway. It's a great outfit. I get a great kick on stage and there's no tension there."
That loose approach to group playing is consistent with another aspect of Glackin's outlook. Paddy: "The group thing only enlarges the audience, the actual spade work is done around the country. When you go deeper into the music you start copping-on to individuals and more interesting and intricate things."
Just the same the craft of musicianship hasn't been purely a homely, undistorted handing down of tradition from father or mother to son or daughter, as many people have been accustomed to believe. Hierarchical values have also been present. The contradiction between that and a people's music is self evident. But 'championships' seem to have formed part and parcel of the traditional scene right down the line - and Paddy's Comhaltas have been among the guilty parties. Paddy admits: "Yes, Comhaltas has been responsible to an extent for that approach."
And then he seems to evade the issue: "It's people themselves who actually think like that. Anyway, the competition thing is changing here in Comhaltas from next year."
Probably discussing the subject involves some sort of inner conflict for Paddy. The irony is that his playing is a product of that system to an extent at least. But still he agrees that it can be a killer of individuality, with young people copying techniques from the winners.
"If I'm a judge, I have to judge it on technique, so therefore you're not judging traditional music, but something cold. But an even more important way that individuality in playing is being lost is the fact that kids at the moment are just playing what they hear on the radio.
"Even around the clubs, music has become standardised. People are playing the same bloody tunes all the time, and it's because of the groups again. Take a tune like 'The Green Groves Of Erin'. You know very well when you hear it that 'The Flowers Of Red Hill' is going to follow (as on the Bothy album). This is even in casual sessions and right around the country. And it's because there isn't the supply of tunes. Half of O'Neill's collection hasn't been drawn on yet. And what remains is as rich as what has been played. I think also, that if you feel for almost any tune it can be made to sound good."
And that shows in the finer detail of Paddy's playing on the album, subtle, sensitive and idiosyncratic by turn.
"It involves a lot more than just working from note to note, you have to establish some sort of foundation for your playing and develop from that. That's where Jackie Daly and Seamus Creagh are great. John Doherty is the man I look up to and the Donegal style in general. But Dublin musicians who adopt a regional style aren't necessarily any the less unique. The most individual musician, in terms of development, I think, is Tommy Potts, a Dubliner."
Meanwhile, Glackin will be standing in for Sean Keane on the Chieftains latest tour, a fact which will ensure wider exposure for him than he's been accustomed to.
It'll be interesting to see if the trip changes his conservative attitudes at all.
Somehow I doubt it.