
The Haar – Where Old Ghosts Meet
Self Released – 29 April 2022
In 2019 at Costa del Folk Ibiza, I interviewed Cormac Byrne and Adam Summerhayes about their, then, newly released album, Stone Soup. The production of that album had taken the unusual approach of simply recording whatever Adam, on fiddle, and Cormac, on a variety of percussion, played as they improvised. Stone Soup might have been a one-off but the reception it received encouraged further adventures. Firstly, Adam teamed up with accordionist Murray Grainger as The Ciderhouse Rebellion. Then, Cormac and Adam met Irish vocalist Molly Donnery in a Connemara pub and, with the inclusion of Murray, The Haar was born.
They released their eponymous album in 2020 (reviewed here), and Where Old Ghosts Meet is the follow-up. It presents us with a further eight traditional Irish songs each getting The Haar’s unmistakable treatment. The elements that make it unmistakable extend far beyond the band’s unusual approach to recording. Indeed, Molly’s voice makes the most stunning initial impression. Adam’s recollection of their Connemara meeting is of her imposing an awed silence on the crowded pub. A silence achieved, not through vocal volume but rather with a gentle, whispery voice. A voice that encourages ever more attentive listening as you strive to catch every nuance of her impeccable delivery.
For Where Old Ghosts Meet, they’ve taken the bold step of applying their skillset to a suite of some of the most iconic songs in the Irish traditional and ‘almost traditional’ repertoire. For songs that are so widely known, it’s hard to envisage radically different treatments that would add anything worthwhile. But, clearly, I don’t have the creative imagination of The Haar and, whilst not every song on the album has received a full makeover, without exception, The Haar’s arrangements have brought out fresh insights and breathed new life into the songs.
Carrickfergus, a song from the mid-1800s, opens the album, initially with just a slow, three-beat, deeply resonating rhythm from Cormac’s bodhrán, rapidly joined by a single sustained note from Adam’s fiddle. Gradually both rhythm and fiddle develop variations, and it’s almost 40 seconds into the track before Molly’s vocal begins, immediately raising goosebumps for me. The fiddle improvises around the song’s melody whilst Murray’s accordion adds chords, rising and falling to give texture and depth to the arrangement. The emotional heart of the lyrics builds as the singer recalls family and friends now passed. Molly’s voice rises, no longer gentle and whispery but forceful and with an edge. It’s a testament to Murray’s skill at the mixing desk that as the song builds through several crescendos, all the individual components of the arrangement have their own well-defined space, the bass notes from the bodhrán as clear as the most emphatic lines of Molly’s vocals. As an opening track, Carrickfergus perfectly establishes the mood of the album. Whilst it is long, at seven and a half minutes, it’s by no means the longest track. The Haar’s recording method places few limits on the length, and only one track comes in at less than five minutes.
Unlike Carrickfergus, several songs on the album differ markedly from the familiar versions one’s likely to hear in any Irish singalong session, Whiskey In The Jar being one of the most notable. It follows, more or less, the usual tale but gone are the rousing choruses, and the emphasis is put firmly on the man being betrayed by the girl, here named Molly, a betrayal that will inevitably lead to his death. So, yes, it’s a far darker tale than the one the song usually puts across, and the accompaniment naturally reflects this. It opens with an ominous motif from the bodhrán, amplified by short, sharp bow strokes across the fiddle strings and discordant tones from the accordion. When the vocal starts, it’s Molly, the singer, telling the story not from the point of view of Molly, the betrayer, but from that of the man. Initially, the voice is loud and clear, but as the story unfolds and the man’s fate becomes clearer, the voice is less and less confident, becoming little more than a whisper in places. A dark, dire and desperate tale of betrayal is the band’s description of the song, and their interpretation delivers that with some force.
The band are prepared to be almost equally iconoclastic in their treatment of The Wild Rover. There’s no change to the familiar lyrics, though the song is taken far more slowly than in most versions. However, they’ve added a final verse of their own in which the landlady happily sells wine and whiskey to the returning rover but then murders him, stealing the remainder of his money. No happy reunion with his parents for him.
On one level, this seems to be a core message of the album, don’t look to folk songs if you want a happy ending. But, at the same time, there’s humour in what The Haar produce and the method by which they produce it. The concept of recording a quintessentially unrepeatable performance puts a smile on my face, and I suspect that goes for the band as well. Above all, though, listening to The Haar is an opportunity to hear four musicians, each at the pinnacle of their respective fields, cooperating in a musical adventure that succeeds on the strength of the trust they put in each other. While their reinterpretations may surprise some, there is so much to appreciate and so much pleasure to be had for anyone prepared to listen. If part of their motivation was to encourage us to look again at what we thought we knew about these songs, then for me, at least, they succeeded.
Adam, Cormac and Murray, already established hands at this level of improvisation, continue to show a degree of mutual understanding that is uncanny, producing ever-changing soundscapes precisely fitting the songs’ moods. Molly’s singing on this second album shows how she has rapidly adapted to the demands of improvisation. Accepting the restrictions imposed by the lyrics, she expertly textures her vocals with variations in volume, timbre, and phrasing, beautifully complementing the instrumental improvisation. Where Old Ghosts Meet gives us almost an hour of entertainment, it’s a stunning multi-layered, nuanced album that reveals more with each play.
Where Old Ghosts Meet is released on 29 April 2022.
Pre-Order via Bandcamp: https://thehaar.bandcamp.com/