MP3 O´Malley´s March - Celtic Fury

The Furious Five: O'Malley's March "The title is quite fitting. The Celtic part, I think, speaks for itself. And the Fury part... well, the music speaks for that.

14 MP3 Songs
WORLD: Celtic, ROCK: Folk Rock



Details:
Martin O'Malley- lead vocal, bodhran, guitar, whistle on "Streets of Baltimore"

Paul Levin - uillean pipes, wooden flute

Bob Baum - base guitar, backup vocals

Jamie Wilson - drums, cajon, djembe, vocals

Jared Denhard - celtic harp, trombone, whistle on "Leaving Home Once More"

Special Guest Musicians

Terry O'Neill, fiddle (Courtesy of the Great O'Neill)

Peter Fitzgerald, tenor banjo (courtesy of Mr. & Mrs. Fitzgerald)

Maureen McCusker, Lass Kickin' vocals

We've tried to capture the same full spectrum of traditional music and contemporary influence that you would hear at our live performances.

Jamie and Bob go to town with fat-back drumming and funky bass licks on a couple of re-worked pub favorites, Black Velvet Band and Barnyards of Delgarty; but you'll also hear traditional pieces. From O'Carolan's timeless melody, Young Catherine, to Paul's slow air on the wooden flute, The Golden Barley, and Jared's harp on Eamann An Chnoic, we'll storm into lively sets of jugs, reels, and polkas.

There are songs of rebellion about The Great O'Neill and Ned of the Hill and the young men who fought and died in 1920 in the Valley of Knochanure. There are also songs of emigration, ranging from the exile of Paddy's Green Shamrock Shore to the new world hope of The Streets of Baltimore, and finally to the modern-day regrets of Leaving Home Once More.

CITY PAPER Vol.21 No. 15 - 04/09/97 - 04/16/97 Lee Gardner,
Baltimore's Free Alternative Weekly "Celtic Fury, "This is not your auld da's Irish traditional,... The rollicking energy the band channels, ... could probably get pint glasses waving in just about any pub anywhere ... Wilson (on the drums) and Baum (on the bass) provide a modern pulse throughout, adding a strange "La Bamba"-like swing to the unlikely "Barnyards of Delgaty", and ... providing an almost fusionoid rhythmic riptide to a medley of reels... Jared Denhard's celtic harp and Paul Levin's pipes prove to be the musical backbone of the performances, especially with Levin's grace and bite on the airs, jigs and reels."


MUSIC MONTHLY April, 1997 / Issue #151 Vol. 14 #4, Kelly Connelly,
The Furious Five: O'Malley's March "The title is quite fitting. The Celtic part, I think, speaks for itself. And the Fury part... well, the music speaks for that. Each song... be it a slow, gentle air, a lively, get-up-and-dance number, or anything in between... is imbued with an undeniable passion that the word "fury" would suggest... Whether or not you like Irish music, you really don't know what you're missing if you haven't checked out O'Malley's March. They play regularly in the Baltimore / Washington area... of course, the proper setting in which to experience them is an Irish pub. But, if you can do without a pint of perfectly drawn Guiness, pick up Celtic Fury and do your best Irish jig in the privacy of your own home."


Mixed, Recorded, and Mastered by John Grant at Secret Sound Studios, Baltimore, Maryland, 1996 and 1997. Chief Bard, Jared Denhard

Produced by O'Malley's March with special thanks to our friends Tom & Kathy Scott.

© 1997 O'Malley's March. All rights reserved. Unauthorized reproduction or recording prohibited. All tracks arranged by O'Malley's March. The Great O'Neill, Streets of Baltimore, Leaving Home Once More, written by Martin O'Malley. The Golden Barley written by Paul Levin. All other songs and tunes traditional except for track No. 12, Ned of the Hill, written by Terry Woods & Ron Kavana, ©1991, Special Delivery Records. ©1992 Green Linnet, all rights reserved.


SOME LYRICS:


Streets of Baltimore
(Lyrics and music by Martin O'Malley)

To work the land from dawn to dusk
was Fatherâs highest goal.
And I sat myself to do the same
when the dear Lord took his soul.
But the land we worked was not our own
and the fruit of my two hands
was carted off to England
to suit the Landlordâs plans.
By the black year â47
the landlordâs game was plain
Starvation was the rent weâd pay
in a country filled with grain.
Mid sobs of hungry children
we left the shamrock shore
And traded desperation
for the home of Baltimore.

Chorus: Come up on the deck this morning
and give your hand to me.
And see the flag that flies above
this new land of the free.
Come up on the deck this morning
and dance upon the shore.
And walk with me to freedom
through the streets of Baltimore.


Our voyage was a hard one
on Atlanticâs icy waves.
Free passage on a coffin ship
the landlord used as slaves.
Trading every scrap we had
to keep the children well
paying for salvation
from that rolling wretched hell.
With every passing day it seemed
we buried friends at sea
and wondered if weâd stayed at home
how worse our plight could be.
With fever, rage at fore and aft
we finally reached the bay
and thanked the Lord that died for us
weâd lived until that day.

(chorus)

Well, from that day to this one
Iâve made it on my own
with a helping hand from Father Mac
and the mighty B&O.
A little house near St. Johnâs
and a grandchild on the way.
We often light a candle
as we think about that day.
For to leave our homes in Ireland
it left us numb with pain.
And the parents that we left behind
we never saw again.
If I live to be one hundred
on Americaâs brave shore.
I never will forget the day
we came to Baltimore.

(chorus)


® Martin O'Malley



Leaving Home Once More
(Lyrics and music by Martin O'Malley)


This strange uneasy feeling
that grips your heart today
as you double check for passports
and you hurry on your way.
And your body feels the week of sleep
your spirit wouldnât take
as you tumble towards the airport
through the memories of your wake.
And with every curving of the road
there are sites youâve never seen
but your visit now has slipped away
like those passing fields of green.
Youâre heading back across the sea
your families across the fold
but your heartâs confused as it can be
âcause it feels youâre leaving home.
Is it some ancient memory
or the fear of never more?
The immigrant whose blood you share
is leaving home once more.


Those evening walks in Galway
as the misty rain came down
and your shelter was that session
on the other side of town
The rides around Killarneyâs woods
a fire we found that day
the hallowed place of Fénian men
they could not lock away.
And through the open countryside
youâd wander and youâd roam
with that eerie feeling
that somehow you were home
Youâre heading back across the sea
your family is across the fold
But your hearts confused as it can be
âcause it feels youâre leaving home
Is it some ancient memory
or the fear of never more?
The immigrant whose blood you share
is leaving home once more.


Those last coins in your pocket
now have reached their destiny.
This bar at Shannon airport
is the last site here youâll see.
Itâs time now to return again
to your world of bills and debt
where your children's years go rushing by
and priorities are set.
The chocked up feeling in your throat
the tear you canât explain
as she gently takes you by the arm
and drags you to the plane.
Youâre heading back across the sea
your families across the fold
but your heartâs confused as it can be
âcause it feels youâre leaving home.
Is it some ancient memory
or the fear of never more?
The immigrant whose blood you share
is leaving home once more.

® Martin O'Malley