Growing old Gaelic-ly

Surprise: The classic Irish-American girls’ names—Erin and Shannon, for example—are never bestowed on babies in the Emerald Isle. (Over there, they’re place names only.)

Similarly, “the songs that people in America [once] regarded as Irish were songs that I didn’t know at all,” recalls Dáithí Sproule, guitarist for Irish band Altan. “Things like ‘Johnson’s Jaunting Car’ or whatever these songs were. When I first came to the States, people would ask me for such-and-such a song and I’d say, ‘I don’t know that,’ and they’d say, ‘What do you mean? You call yourself Irish and you don’t know these songs?’

“I’d say, ‘I don’t call myself Irish—I am Irish.’”

Sproule (whose first name is pronounced Dah-hee) has been living in the United States for 25 years, and is now an American citizen. Every other Altan member still claims citizenship in Ireland—and so the band is the reverse of so many Celtic-flavored groups (Flogging Molly, Young Dubliners, Black ‘47) that are fronted by a token Irish native or two.

Today, Sproule happily reports, American audiences are much better educated when it comes to Irish music. As a result, he hasn’t had too many recent requests for “Danny Boy” or “When Irish Eyes Are Smiling.”

Thinking locally, playing globally

There’s an unofficial standard of longevity among traditional Irish bands. Musicians come from musical families. They play tunes handed down over centuries. They age gracefully and tour for decades, continuing to enjoy steady rises in popularity.

“We were gradually progressing—there were never any major leaps,” is how Sproule modestly describes the trajectory of Altan.

The group, from northwestern Ireland, gives out a vague start date because several members were playing together in pubs years before they decided to make it official. In some ways, Altan was born of the 1981 marriage between vocalist/fiddler Mairéad Ní Mhaonaigh and flute player Frankie Kennedy.

Another major defining moment came more than a decade later, when Kennedy succumbed to a long battle with cancer and Altan’s surviving members chose to continue the band’s work. “[Kennedy] saw the growing public awareness of the band when he was on treatment, and he insisted that we kept playing even if he couldn’t always come along,” Ní Mhaonaigh (whose full name is pronounced Muh-Ray-Ed Nee Wee-Nee) told RootsWorld in a 1997 interview.

She added, “All the band members I’ve known all my life, playing music in a social way. In our band, because we’ve been through such a tragedy, it’s made us realize how trivial the little things are.”

That sense of perspective served the band well during their mid-‘90s shift to major label Virgin. And even with increasing notoriety—world tours included—Altan continued to play their own very personal fiddle tunes. These were songs rarely heard outside of Donegal, including Northern Irish flute pieces collected by Kennedy.

Pedigree (and complicated names) to burn

Altan boasts roots steeped deep in traditional music. Ní Mhaonaigh grew up speaking Gaelic as her first language, and her father is a well-known fiddle teacher; accordion player Dermot Byrne learned music at his father’s knee, and is—along with whistle player Ciarán Tourish—from Donegal; Ciarán Curran, from County Fermanagh, brought a family background of music to the bouzouki, a relatively new instrument in Irish playing.

But the musicians were hardly raised in a Celtic-centric vacuum. Guitarist Mark Kelly’s mother was a jazz singer; Sproule’s first influence was The Beatles. “You do make decisions, usually early on in your career. There are a few people who don’t have to make a decision—they just see the one option. But certainly, I played rock and blues guitar,” the guitarist says. “But … when you’re playing in public, you have to decide, ‘What am I going to include in my repertoire? Am I going to mix it up a bit?’ I suppose Altan, as a band, has stuck to a more traditional focus.”

That doesn’t mean they don’t trot out the rock grooves when they’re jamming at home. But in concert, Sproule explains, a strictly traditional set list “avoids the trap of dabbling.”

“I’m very suspicious of dabbling,” he admits. “I’d hate for Altan or myself to get up and try, say, a bluegrass tune, and just not do it very well.”

Consistency is key to Altan’s three decades of success, and why the group’s latest album, Local Ground, received critics’ raves. Ní Mhaonaigh’s ethereal voice soars above the complex strummings and rhythms as each number melds seamlessly into the next. Altan could play these tunes in their sleep—and yet the heart is still there, every time.

“The main reason [Altan] has done well has to be the personal relationships within the band,” Sproule surmises. (Ironically, that’s the very reason most bands give for throwing in the towel.) “No doubt, the general atmosphere within the Irish music community is a supportive one, and not very competitive.”