- Music
- 08 Nov 04
Nostalgic yes, but never burdened by maudlin sentimentality, Kíla sing of an Ireland proud of her tradition and of a heritage bereft of tackiness so commonly found in Temple Bar.
It is an unfortunate truth of modern day Ireland that one has become increasingly cynical of our Irishness (or should that be Oirishness?) We have in effect commodified our identity. We seem to be selling everything. In the pursuit of this elusive payout we are losing our language, our history, our traditions and our soul.
If modern Ireland has become a nanny state of brown envelopes, back handers, crooked politicians and escalating crime then Kíla provide a welcome piece of escapism. Nostalgic yes, but never burdened by maudlin sentimentality, Kíla sing of an Ireland proud of her tradition and of a heritage bereft of tackiness so commonly found in Temple Bar.
Driving the pulse, skin of bodhran meets skin of hand. Stage left the guilty party Rónán Ó Snodaigh stomps barefoot, wagging his backside contentedly, his head creaked back with sweat dripping from furrowed brow. Resembling the banshee, ethereal violin wails at the deft caress of Dee Armstrong’s hand. Modern bass lines punctuate the sonic experimentation. Emulating the music of old but gesturing a way to the future Kíla kick-start a progressive style of Trad.
Think Massive Attack without the multitude of computers and pompous backdrops. Think hardcore house with a dash of humility and a large dose of humanity. Think of the ’60s vibe communicated via an assured idealistic view of the world. Think trad music brought kicking and screaming into the 21st century.
Despite the primitive and raw sound there appears to be a real familial spirit to the group and appropriately tonight there is no macho chest beating or showy antics. Absorbed and in to their music Kíla never become distant or remote and thus the audience always feel part of the proceedings. Tonight the audience of Vicar St. showed their appreciation by dancing, and not the ‘sweaty drunken-wildebeest hump’ so often witnessed in Q bar, but dancing just for the hell of it, just for fun.
Multi instrumentalists and highly skilled ones at that, the experimentation was a joy to witness. As if just jamming, Kíla let their guard down allowing a truly humbling look into one of Ireland’s greatest exports. Kíla’s new live album (appropriately called Live In Dublin) was launched tonight, thus older songs were interspersed with new ones but the pace remains, as always, relentless.
As the words Tóg é go Bog é reverberated around Vicar St. and later lingered in the rafters, the gospel according to Kíla was clearly driven home. In Hawaii the word Kíla means majestic. Any of the pilgrims present tonight could do nothing but agree.