More (Mostly) Folk Music
The Abbey Tavern Singers

The Abbey Tavern Singers   •   Traditional Ballads

image image image
  • Traditional Ballads
    • 1970 - Abbey Tavern ATP-102 LP (IRL)
  • Side One
    1. The Mermaid — John Byrne, Anne Byrne, Mary Sheehan & Michael Kennedy
    2. If I were a Blackbird — Mary Sheehan
    3. Mary of Dungloe — John Byrne, Anne Byrne, Pat O'Connell & Michael Kennedy
    4. Siúl, a Rún — Heather Hodgins
    5. Roddy McCorley — John Byrne
    6. The Spinning Wheel — Anne Byrne
    7. The West's Awake — Brendán Ó'Duill
  • Side Two
    1. Rattlin' Bog — Michael Kennedy
    2. The Croppy Boy — Anne Byrne
    3. The Ould Triangle — Pat O'Connell
    4. Maidin i mBeara (Danny Boy) — Áine McCann
    5. Captain Farrell — Pat O'Connell
    6. Slieve Gallon Braes — Mary Sheehan
    7. Boolavogue — Brendán Ó'Duill

  • Musicians
    • Áine McCann, Anne Byrne, Brendán Ó'Duill, Heather Hodgins, John Byrne, Mary Sheehan, Michael Kennedy, Micheál MacAogáin, Pat O'Connell, Rosemary O'Connor & Seán Keane
  • Credits
    • This record is an Abbey Tavern Production
    • Cover photograph by Patrick O'Dea, Irish Tourist Board
    • Script by Wendy Fay
    • Recorded by Trend Studios, Dublin
    • Designed & Printed at the Central Remedial Clinic, Dublin

Sleeve Notes

Nestling against the ancient ruins of Howth Abbey, amid picturesque scenery of mountain and sea, with the lovely fishing harbour and jewel-like islands of Lambay and Ireland's Eye below, is The Abbey Tavern, an ideal spot in which to spend an evening in the genuine atmosphere of old Ireland.

The Tavern itself is well-known for its high-class fare. To it people make gastronomic pilgrimages for its sea food suppers. The note is of welcome — the warm céad míle fáilte of the Irish hearth, whose inimitable something has been captured and held there for your enjoyment.

There are no neon signs, no chromium, no insistent blaze of lights nor blare of music. Instead, as you sit in your sugan chair, beside the open turf fire with its pot hanging on the crane — and its pot oven seated complacently on the hearth, you will be reminded of the yesterdays of Irish home life — the joys, the sadnesses, the strife and the deep content by the homely things about you — the spinning-wheels, the griddle hanging on the wall, the creels used for carrying the turf and the collar from the quiet donkey who used to bring it from the bog.

As your spirit rests, calmed by the peaceful surroundings, the musicians will play and sing to you of the days that are far off They will make your heart lilt with the rhythms of the dance and the folk singers will beguile you with songs that are gay and songs that are sad and with stirring ballads of a past that is already fading into heroic legend.

And as they sing their songs, the magic that is Ireland will beckon you away from the stresses of daily life to the land where the heart is always young and the dream and the reality forever intertwined.