The Lankum performance felt more like a ritualistic cleansing than a typical concert.


Outside, brightly dressed people head to festive functions. Inside the often dimly lit north London venue, the focus is more on death and suffering.

To clarify, no audience members are physically harmed during Lankum’s performance of traditional Irish music, despite the intense and sometimes confrontational acoustics of the Dublin foursome. The songs they perform tell stories of murders, suicides, grief, and fear. They also touch on themes of rebellion at sea, as seen in their rendition of “The New York Trader,” and struggles on land, particularly in their powerful performance of “Rocky Road to Dublin.” The band’s setlist often includes songs that reflect on lives affected by addiction, alongside original compositions and experimental arrangements of folk tunes. This sold-out show, with a capacity of 3,000, is their largest to date and the culmination of a successful year following the release of their fourth album, False Lankum. The album briefly made them favorites for the Mercury Prize (which was ultimately won by Ezra Collective) and has received high praise on many “albums of the year” lists for 2023.

Traditional music has often revolved around pain and struggle. Lankum, a group consisting of multiple singers and instrumentalists, has gained recognition for their empathetic and passionate retellings of these age-old tales of hardship. Their name is derived from the traditional ballad False Lankum, a version of Child Ballad No 93 that depicts tragic events involving an infant. Despite their ancient origins, these stories continue to resonate with modern audiences due to their enduring relevance.

Take The Wild Rover, their mesmeric set opener, drawn from their 2019 album The Livelong Day. Thought to have its origins in the 17th century, the tune has travelled widely as a drinking song; it’s a chant with Celtic away fans. Sung by the hypnotic Radie Peat, with meaty harmonies from the rest of the band, the Lankum version foregrounds the bitter regret at having wasted on drink the riches that could have bought “10 acres”, a roof and warm clothing.

Ian Lynch on uilleann pipes.

Even sadder is Lankum original The Young People, a song introduced as being “about the frailty of human life”. Sung by guitarist Daragh Lynch, it starts with someone “swinging” (from a rope) and reminds us, with close harmonies and a pileup of instruments, that life is very short. There’s time, too, for expressions of solidarity with the Palestinian people tonight. Lynch pointedly asks the guffawing audience how it’s going, us having a new king.

Lankum’s goal is to draw attention to the fact that achieving a fair and equal world is still far from reach. To do so, they use a bombardment of sensory experiences. While other folk artists, like the Pogues, emphasized the rebelliousness of traditional Irish music, and bands like the Waterboys focused on the spiritual and mystical elements of Celtic culture, Lankum utilizes repetition, echoing effects, and hypnotic harmonies as their methods.

Cormac Mac Diarmada plays the fiddle while Ian Lynch, brother of Daragh, plays the uilleann pipes. However, in their hands, these instruments lose their cheerful sound and become powerful and unyielding. Peat also adds to the intense atmosphere with harmoniums and accordions, creating a deep and haunting resonance that can turn ominous. Lankum is often described as “doom folk” and they share similarities with the band Godspeed You! Black Emperor, who also use violins, evoke a sense of dread, and have progressive political views. For tonight’s performance, Lankum has brought in additional musicians to enhance their sound and create a more forceful impact on the audience: John Dermody on percussion and a large bass drum, Rachel Hynes on piano, and Fred Wordsworth from the band Caroline occasionally joins in on trumpet.

The sound is grand and captivating, starting with the mesmerizing conclusion of The Wild Rover and building up to the almost cheerful climax in Bear Creek. The stormy sea setting in The New York Trader (a story about a cruel captain’s unfortunate demise) is brought to life as a wild and immersive anti-shanty experience. DK Gavan’s rendition of The Rocky Road to Dublin includes a horror-inspired section with intense mechanical noises and haunting string instruments. A reel emerges from the chaos, but it feels absurd rather than celebratory. The finale features an interpolation of Sting’s anti-nuclear anthem in solidarity with striking miners, We Work the Black Seam, originally covered by the now disbanded folk vocal group Swan Arcade.

Radie Peat smiling, largely obscured by a bankd of harmoniums and accordion

Lankum provides a welcome break with their mesmerizing and atmospheric track, Lullaby, taken from their debut album Cold Old Fire (2014). It is mostly instrumental and pays tribute to the late Sinéad O’Connor, whom the band describes as an “absolute legend”. The band had the daunting task of performing after her at Shane MacGowan’s 60th birthday concert in 2018.

The entire venue becomes lively when they perform a rendition of The Pogues’ The Old Main Drag – a story about coming to London, engaging in prostitution at Piccadilly Circus, getting assaulted by law enforcement, and regretting the path your life has taken. The men sing it in unison, accompanied by Peat’s deep-toned harmonium; stripped of The Pogues’ morbid romanticism, it is somber, desolate, and exquisite.

The most remarkable song of the evening, however, and the highlight of Lankum’s album, is Go Dig My Grave. This piece marks the second instance of suicide by hanging during the night. Lankum is a group that excels in their collective singing, but Peat’s exceptional instrument has a polyphonic quality all its own.

The performance starts with only vocals, recounting the story of a woman whose partner refuses to marry her. As other instruments join in, the woman’s final note reveals her death was caused by love. However, the somber tune builds into a forceful beat accompanied by piercing high-pitched sounds, denouncing sexism. With incomprehensible murmurs layered over the rising music, the overall experience resembles an intense purification. In a year where O’Connor and MacGowan have both passed, it is reassuring to see that the unconventional Irish music scene is being carried on by courageous individuals.

Source: theguardian.com

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