I Cruachan nascono agli albori degli anni 90' in Irlanda su idea di Keith Fay, il leader, l'Alessandro del Piero della situazione, un vero innovatore del Folk Metal, e probabilmente l'inventore del Celtic Metal, uno dei suoi sottogeneri, combo di musica celtica (lo stesso Keith Fay è cantante e suonatore, assieme agli altri elementi della band, di vari strumenti folk come flauti, bouzouki, bodhràn e mandolini) ed Heavy/Death metal.
Il disco d'esordio, Tuatha Na Gael (1995) è sicuramente molto positivo e ben accolto dalla critica ma le influenze celtiche, sono scarse e spesso soffocate dal Black Metal (salvo in alcuni episodi, come la canzone Brian Boru, da brividi!!!) e per questo motivo non riesco ad apprezzare pienamente questo album. Il lavoro che invece mi entusiasma di più è "Folk-Lore", il terzo prodotto degli irlandesi, dove le atmosfere si fanno più leggere, evocative e rilassanti, anche per merito del nuovo acquisto della band, ovvero la cantante Karen Gilligan, che fornisce un po' di dolcezza alle composizioni. "Folk-lore" presenta comunque anche molte sezioni metalliche, nelle quali i riff vanno dal Black ad un puro Heavy, che avrebbe potuto suonare un Tommy Iommy leggermente incazzato.
I bardi irlandesi iniziano il loro lavoro cantando una delle più grandi stragi dell'irlanda: il Bloody Sunday (Domenica di sangue per chi non mastica l'inglese). Nel tragico giorno del 30 gennaio 1972, in una manifestazione pacifica persero la vita 13 civili, attaccati dall'esercito britannico. Molti testimoni che non presero parte agli incidenti, compresi alcuni giornalisti, affermarono che i manifestanti colpiti erano disarmati. Al giorno d'oggi si devono ancora prendere seri provvedimenti giudiziari per archiviare il caso, compiendo quindi la giusta giustizia (cosa assai astratta la giustizia purtroppo). A differenza di molti colleghi folkettari-metallari, i Cruachan si dimostrano quindi non solamente legati alle solite, insulse, pallose e banali tematiche (w la guerra, le spade, il sangue, la gloria nei secoli la birra e i nostri mitici ed eroici antenati) ma si rendono anche fautori di veri e propri brani di denuncia sociale.
Il disco continua, con tracce mai noiose scontate e banali ma molto varie ed interessanti. Tra le canzoni migliori segnalo i due rifacimenti di canzoni tradizionali irlandesi: The Rocky Road To Dublin e Spancil Hill. I due pezzi anche se reinterpretati in chiave metal, riescono a mantenere la carica, l'allegria e l'irrefrenabile voglia di muovere il culo che riescono a dare le fenomenali ballate irlandesi agli ascoltatori (se volete ascoltarvi un altro rifacimento di tradizione irlandese in stile Cruachan, consiglio a tutti Some Say The Devil Is Dead, presente nell'album "Pagan"). I veri capolavori del disco sono però altri brani, come la commovente Susie Moran, la rilassante, evocativa e allo stesso tempo energica Death Of A Gael e soprattutto la straordinaria Ride On. L'esordio del pezzo è affidato al flauto. Dopo un breve assolo si sovrappongo alla melodia di base un gradevole arpeggio acustico, un triste violino, la batteria dell'ottimo Joe Farrel, e il canto di Karen Gillan. L'apice emotivo del brano e di tutto l'album si ha con l'eccellente coro, duetto tra la voce femminile e quella maschile:
Ride on, see you, I could never go with you
No matter how I wanted to.
Riassumendo si può dire tranquillamente che "Folk-Lore" è uno dei dischi più freschi, originali, coinvolgenti e meglio riusciti del movimento Folk-Metal, e può quindi tranquillamente essere apprezzato da tutti, anche da ascoltari che non amano particolarmente il genere. Consiglio quindi di acquistare il cd, oppure scaricarlo dal mulo, o se proprio proprio cercare qualcosa sul tubo (se mio nonno potesse leggere una frase del genere credo penserebbe subito di rinchiudermi in qualche manicomio).
Con questo mi sembra di aver detto tutto, vi ringrazio del tempo che mi avete dedicato e a dio piacendo arrivederci a domani.
Elenco tracce e testi
01 Bloody Sunday (04:15)
[Music & Words: KF]
Remember well the 30th of January,
The feeling of dread that was in the air.
The people marched for their right to equality,
They only wanted to be treated fair.
Shots were fired my a mindless military,
The people ran they were unarmed
Across the world we will read of Derry
And those who died by oppressive hands.
13 people lost their lives that Sunday,
Women, children and innocent men.
Many wounded lay crying in agony,
The knights of Malta attended them.
And so began the government cover up.
And so began the lies and deceit.
Soldiers statement would be changed and torn up,
No reports would come from men on the street.
As the years went by the people began to talk,
The hidden crimes were now being told.
Innocent protestors - shot in back,
Left to die in the winter cold.
The bullets used had all been tampered,
Maximum injury would come from them.
This tyranny will not go un-noticed,
Our day will come again.
03 Death of a Gael (05:38)
[Music & Words: KF]
A warrior so proud of the woman by his side,
His faithful heart would take no other bride,
For three years they lived,
midst the forests of the land,
Strong and proud was the love
of this woman and man
Like the sky high above,
no beginning and no end,
The woman that he loves,
his life and best friend.
Until that day in December
when the snowstorms did start,
Stalked the Norseman with his bow,
put an arrow through his heart.
Hear the cry, the cry of the winter wind,
Blowing across the land,
stealing his life from him,
From the earth, and into the otherworld,
the land of Tír Na n-Óg,
is the place where he must go.
"Woman come to my side,
let your arms shield my pain,
For I know will not spend
another day with you again."
They say she will not move
from the place where he did die,
Once so strong and so proud,
She cannot talk but cry.
04 The Rocky Road to Dublin (03:07)
(Arrangement: KF Words: Unknown)
In the merry month of June,
from me home I started,
Left the girls of Tuam nearly broken-hearted,
Saluted father dear, kissed me darlin' mother,
Drank a pint of beer
My grief and tears to smother.
Then off to reap the corn
and leave where I was born,
Cut a stout black-thorn to banish ghosts and goblins,
A brand new pair of brogues
I rattled o'er the bogs,
Frightened all the dogs
on the rocky road to Dublin.
CHORUS:
One two three four five,
hunt the hare and turn her,
Down the rocky road and all the way to Dublin,
Whack fol lal de da!
In Mullingar that night I rested limbs so weary,
Started by daylight next morning light and airy,
Took a drop of the pure
To keep me heart from sinking,
That's the Paddy's cure,
When'er he's on for drinking,
To see the lasses smile, laughing all the while,
At me curious style
would set your heart a bubbling,
They asked if I was hired, the wages I required,
Till I was nearly tired
of the rocky road to Dublin.
Chorus.
In Dublin next arrived, I thought it such a pity,
To be so soon deprived a view of that fine city,
Then I took a stroll - all among the quality,
Me bundle it was stole in a neat locality:
Something crossed me mind,
then I looked behind,
No bundle could I find upon me stick a wobblin',
Inquiring for the rogue,
they said me Connaught brogue,
Wasn't much in vogue
on the rocky road to Dublin
Chorus.
From there I got away me spirits never failing,
Landed on the quay as the ship was sailing,
Captain at me roared, said that no room had he,
When I jumped aboard, a cabin found for Paddy,
Down among the pigs I played some funny rigs,
Danced some hearty jigs,
the water round me bubblin',
When off to Holyhead I wished meself was dead,
Or better far instead,
the rocky road to Dublin
The boys of Liverpool, when we safely landed,
Called meself a fool, I could no longer stand it,
Blood began to boil, temper I was losin',
Poor old Eierann's isle they began abusin',
"Hurrah me soul" says I, shillelagh I let fly,
Galway boys were by, saw I was a hobble in,
then with a loud hurrah, They joined in the affray,
We quickly cleared the way
for the rocky road to Dublin
Chorus.
06 Spancill Hill (06:00)
[Arrangement: KF Words: Tradional]
Last night as I lay dreaming
of pleasant days gone by,
Me mind been bent on rambling,
to Ireland I did fly,
I stepped on board a vision
and followed with a will
Till next I came to anchor
at the cross near Spancill Hill.
Delighted by the novelty,
enchanted with the scene,
Where in me early boyhood - often I had been,
I thought I heard a murmur
and I think I hear it still
It's the little stream of water
that flows down Spancill Hill.
To amuse a passing fancy
I lay down on the ground,
And all my school companions
they shortly gathered round
When we were home returning
we danced with bright goodwill,
To Martin Moynahan's music
at the cross at Spancill Hill.
It was on the 24th of June,
the day before the fair
When Ireland's sons and daughters
and all assembled there,
The young, the old, the brave, the bold
came their duty to fulfil,
At the little church in Clooney,
a mile from Spancill Hill.
I went to see me neighbours
to see what they might say,
The old ones they were dead and gone,
the young ones turning grey,
I met the tailor Quigley, he was bold as ever still,
sure he used to make my britches
when I lived at Spancill Hill.
I paid a flying visit to me first and only love,
She's as fair as any lilly and gentle as a dove,
She threw her arms around me
crying "Johnny I love you still",
She was a farmer's daughter,
the pride of Spancill Hill.
Well I dreamt I hugged and kissed her
as in the days of yore
She said "Johnny you're only joking"
as many the times before,
The cock crew in the morning,
he crew both loud and shrill
And I awoke in California,
many miles from Spancill Hill.
08 Ride On (04:41)
[Arrangement: KF,JF Words: Tradional]
True, you ride the finest horse I've ever seen,
Standing sixteen, one or two,
with eyes wide and green,
And you ride the horse so well,
hands light to the touch,
I could never go with you
no matter how I wanted to.
[CHORUS:]
Ride on, see you,
I could never go with you
No matter how I wanted to.
When you ride into the night
without a trace behind,
Run your claw along my gut, one last time.
I turn to face an empty space
where you used to lie,
And look for a spark that lights the night
through a teardrop in my eye.
[CHORUS]
09 Susie Moran (04:11)
[Music & Words: KF]
Life for you it was not easy,
And at times was so unfair.
In a time when works was scarce,
Many burdens were yours to bear.
You bore the brunt of grief,
When Patrick left the earth.
Such a tragedy to happen,
To a child 4 months since birth.
When Husband Jack did lay,
Fore years in a hospital bed,
You were by his side relentlessly,
To help him through this dread.
You had no time for science,
Technology was not your friend.
You lived your life in black and white,
Until the very end.
You've gone now to that other place,
Your work on earth is done.
Jack is waiting there for you,
In his arms he holds your son.
We know it may be long,
Before we hear your voice again.
You will always be remembered,
Never forgotten - Susie Moran.
11 To Invoke the Horned God (06:02)
He holds a twisted torc in his hand,
the forests are his ruling land.
Great god Cernunnos, return to Earth again,
come at my call and show thyself to men,
sheperd of goats, upon the wild hills way,
lead thy lost flock from darkness unto day
the Horned God is our nature deity,
yet modern man would from his presence flee.
Forgotten are the ways of sleep and night,
men seek for them, whose eyes have lost the light,
open the door, the door that hath no key,
the door of dreams, wereby men come to thee
Sheperd of goats, O answer unto me!
The summerlands is where we shall meet thee.
To invoke thee...
The Horned God.
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