Dundalk folk outfit The Mary Wallopers took the world by storm at a time when the world was mostly shut down. Formed out of a makeshift studio-pub, the band — originally a trio made up of the Hendy brothers, Andrew and Charles, and friend Sean McKenna — gained a following with their live-streamed performances, quickly building up a fanbase across the Irish sea.

Those fans came out to play with the now seven-piece band on Monday night, meeting them at the most unprecedented of venues: the sanctified Hollywood Troubadour — a stage which has hosted the likes of Billy Joel, The Doors, Tom Waits, Nina Simone and Bob Dylan.

But when I was met with an already buzzing room and a man in a GAA jersey ordering a Guinness from the bar, I knew I was in the right place. It might’ve been West Hollywood, but for one night it didn’t feel like it.

If you didn’t catch my tone there, it’s relief.

Opening act Sam Shackleton sauntered onstage as the crowd continued filtering in, slinging on an acoustic guitar decorated with the words ‘This machine spread freedom.’

Sam Shackleton supporting The Mary Wallopers at the Troubadour, L.A. Monday October 30. Copyright Riley Glaister-Ryder/hotpress.com

The saying might nod to Shackleton’s EP, Scottish Folk Ballads of Freedom, or it might just be the ethos behind the Glasgow native’s distinct sound — one which bridges the gap between tradition and modernity. From his originals to covers of Woody Guthrie and author-less Scottish ballads, Shackleton flicks between ancient Gaelic storytelling to a revival of ‘60s Americana, whilst gripping onto a voice entirely his own.

His opening set list kicked off with ‘The Overgate,’ a Scottish song, Shackleton admitted, nobody knows the writer of. His tongue rolled on a cover of one of his folk favourites, Woody Guthrie, as he moulded the Americana great’s ‘Buffalo Skinners’ into a similar story about a Scottish guy and a dream chased. His foot pounded the bass rhythm on a kick drum as his hands alternated dexterously between guitar and banjo.

Sam Shackleton supporting The Mary Wallopers at the Troubadour, L.A. Monday October 30. Copyright Riley Glaister-Ryder/hotpress.com

He slowed things down for the more melancholy, banjo-strummed ‘Lonesome River Song,’ a track written from a father to his son — striking a personal chord for Shackleton, who recently lost his own father. His vocals serrated with sharp, raspy cuts on some notes, yet remained in step with the musician’s innate sense of rhythm.

The lullaby led into a much different sort of track, another Guthrie cover, ‘All You Fascists Bound to Lose.’ Shackleton was having a good time, and it was infectious — as he instructed the crowd to sing along on the chorus, half-joking, “I will judge you on this one if you don’t.”

The crowd was more than willing to do so — as most crowds are, when it comes to things like anti-fascism.

His finale, ‘Scottish Cowboy,’ seamlessly merged the one-man-band that is Shackleton and his double-edged sound.

The Mary Wallopers at the Troubadour, L.A. Monday October 30. Copyright Riley Glaister-Ryder/hotpress.com

It was with zero surprise that The Mary Wallopers took to the stage with glasses in hand, buzzing at the cheers erupting from the now-compacted Troubadour floor. “What’s the fuckin’ craic?” Charles, the (only slightly) more raucous Hendy brother greeted the crowd with his trademark dry joy.

Any concert-goers unfamiliar with the Irish group’s sound were in for a surprise with their first tune, the newly released Irish Rock N Roll opener ‘Bould O’Donoghue.’ Starting off slow and sombre, Charles Hendy sang in a sweet brogue over sombre guitar.

Quicker than the wink of an eye, the band was at the helm, bursting with energetic sound and whiplash instrumentals. The song felt like an odious celebration for a show that had barely begun, lighting a flame that steadily grew over the next ninety or so minutes.

The Mary Wallopers at the Troubadour, L.A. Monday October 30. Copyright Riley Glaister-Ryder/hotpress.com

The Hendy brothers took a minute to acknowledge the elephant in the room, who was actually in the room this time around — guitarist/vocalist Sean McKenna, 1/3 of the original MW trio who didn’t make it to the band’s string of US dates earlier this year.

“Because,” Charles noted, “he doesn’t get along well with the police.”

“I don’t talk to those people,” McKenna quipped back, before taking the reins and introducing the next song. “It’s about a guy who used to go around holding hands and kissing girls and now just goes to the pub every night,” he said of the ‘Love Will Never Conquer Me,’ as he passed a sidelong look Charles' way.

“Who’s that?” Hendy jibed, to which McKenna sarcastically replied, “Oh, you wouldn’t know him.”

The Mary Wallopers at the Troubadour, L.A. Monday October 30. Copyright Riley Glaister-Ryder/hotpress.com

Once a trio in a makeshift studio/pub, The Mary Wallopers are now composed of a seven-piece band. Roisin Barret emulates a cool air on the bass, Seamas Hyland breathes life into the accordion, and Finian O’Connor’s piercing tin whistle cuts through the string ensemble. And one can’t forget the crashing drums at the command of Ken Mooney.

“He’s from a place called Dublin,” Charles let the room know, tacking on a few choice words — not the least, “A shithole.”

‘Rothsea-O,’ a track, according to Andrew Hendy, “About how we all got fleas,” saw the three vocalists indulge in a fine display of wisecracks and witticisms. They teased one another, and the crowd to be inclusive, improvising the lyrics of the song as they went along.

The Mary Wallopers at the Troubadour, L.A. Monday October 30. Copyright Riley Glaister-Ryder/hotpress.com

“Sean McKenna is a dirty lout,” Charles supplemented on one line, earning a pause for laughter from the crowd. When the song came to its final wisecrack line and the crowd applauded, Andrew chided in, “You’re not supposed to cheer for the fleas!”

“Let them, it’s an American thing,” said his brother.

Enough with the funny stuff, next up: a song about what happens to rich people when they die. “They go to hell,” Charles half-joked.

The band does justice to ‘Cod Liver Oil and The Orange Juice,’ originally by a similarly dry-humoured ‘60s folk revivalist Hamish Imlach. Poking fun at society, politics, and all the serious stuff with a charismatic cheek, the cover held up across the sea, always a crowd favourite.

Jibes and jabs aside, listen beneath the witty words and captivating vocals and you’ll hear expertly intertwined sonics, with a sense of rhythm and harmony rooted in Irish trad folk. The music isn’t in jeopardy with The Mary Wallopers, whose each instrument is a speedy vehicle keeping in perfect, parallel pace with the other.

The Mary Wallopers at the Troubadour, L.A. Monday October 30. Copyright Riley Glaister-Ryder/hotpress.com

Poignant even when parodic, the ‘Turfman From Ardee,’ haunted at the start, with Andrew’s downturned banjo and a piercing whistle setting the tone of the tense melody. The wall of sound grew in density as each member of the band filed in like well-rehearsed troops, from Charles’ bodhrán to Barret’s incessant bassline, until it all reached a glorifying sonic explosion.

McKenna stood alone with his guitar for ‘The Idler,’ as the others hung back. A folk song with contemporary relevance, the guitarist sang a wordy string of lines that give a voice to the downtrodden in the face of injustice.

“Don’t blame the idler who comes to this country, comes to this country seeking their home,” McKenna sang, “But blame the idler who forgets their history and says Ireland is full, look after our own.”

The Mary Wallopers at the Troubadour, L.A. Monday October 30. Copyright Riley Glaister-Ryder/hotpress.com

Next up for a solo stint, Andrew did an acapella rendition of the nineteenth century folk ballad ‘Do Me Justice,’ a tune about how the Irish were unfairly represented by British media. He breathlessly gave new life to the track, shining a light upon its universal themes.

With all the comparisons drawn to The Dubliners, it’s no surprise that The Mary Wallopers included the band’s playfully pinching ‘Building Up And Tearing England Down’ on their new album and their setlist since. With its light-hearted guitar melody, an American listener could almost bypass the melancholy story Charles, alone on vocals, narrates. Almost.

‘The Blarney Stone’ was a giddy break, prompting more than a couple audience members to link arms and dance in circles, dancing which carried right over into ‘The Holy Ground.’

The Mary Wallopers at the Troubadour, L.A. Monday October 30. Copyright Riley Glaister-Ryder/hotpress.com

Charles took centre stage solo for ‘Wexford,’ a cover by the famous street singer Pecker Dunne about the prejudice directed at Irish Travellers. “He mightn’t have a voice anymore, but we do,” Charles introduced the tune, “so that’s why we sing this song.” The room fell silent, struck as the Hendy brothers moved the strings of the tune along, Charles’ vocals clear and cutting.

Returning to the kind of instant, explosive sound they kicked the gig off with, ‘Eileen Og’ nearly tore down the sanctified walls of the Troubadour. If there’s a band that would earn that honour, it would be this one.

“Last chance to dance,” Charles warned, before spearheading into ‘Frost is All Over.’ Uilleann pipes snaked sweetly through the upbeat melody of the tune, which had the room on its feet and one man jumping onstage for a jig, much to the band’s unfazed reaction.

The Mary Wallopers at the Troubadour, L.A. Monday October 30. Copyright Riley Glaister-Ryder/hotpress.com

With that, The Mary Wallopers disappeared from the stage, prompting cheers for “one more tune!” Despite drawing the curtain on the window upstairs, they returned soon enough, granting audience pleas and sending the night off with one last raucous number, ‘All For Me Grog.’

The Mary Wallopers at the Troubadour, L.A. Monday October 30. Copyright Riley Glaister-Ryder/hotpress.com

From their bedroom studio/pub where the band first gained a following with their livestreams, to the iconic Troubadour stage in Hollywood, The Mary Wallopers have travelled far in a short time.

Yet, despite it all, the elements at their core — having fun and telling the untold or unheard stories — remain fixed.

‘Wherever you go, there you are’ – a truth which takes on a heartening meaning when it comes to The Mary Wallopers.

Check out more photos from The Mary Wallopers’ headline show at The Troubadour, Los Angeles here.