Album Review: Tabhair ar als an Oíche Aréir / Bring Me Back Last Night
Seoirse Ó Dochartaigh’s latest offering, Tabhair ar als an Oíche Aréir / Bring Me Back Last Night, is a Celtic folk gem that feels like stepping into a cozy pub on the west coast of Ireland—minus the spilled pints and rowdy singalongs (well, mostly). Released under Errigal Records, this album wraps you in layers of traditional sounds with a modern twist. With its mix of heartfelt ballads and toe-tapping tunes, it's one of those albums that sticks to your soul like butter on warm soda bread.
Let’s dive into two standout tracks that really got stuck in my head:
First up, "Méiltí Cheann Dubhrann". This tune is pure magic. The uilleann pipes from Steáfan Ó hAnnagáin weave through the melody like mist over Donegal hills, while Seoirse’s lead vocals bring just enough grit and warmth to make you feel like he’s sitting right beside you, telling his story. It’s not overly flashy—just honest storytelling paired with haunting instrumentation. I found myself rewinding this track more times than I care to admit because there’s something about the way the flute joins in halfway through that gives me goosebumps every time.
Then there’s "An Rábaire / The Dashing Blade", which kicks things up a notch. If “Méiltí” feels like a quiet chat by the fire, this one’s the lively ceilidh happening next door. Mark Griffiths’ bass guitar lays down a groove so solid you can practically see people stomping their feet, while Luke Daniels’ accordion adds that unmistakable Celtic flair. By the time Nig Aonghusa chimes in with harmony vocals, you'll be fighting the urge to grab someone for an impromptu dance—even if you don’t know any steps beyond awkwardly flailing your arms.
The whole album has a rich, earthy vibe thanks to Saskia Tomkins’ cello adding depth and Mike Cosgrave’s piano tying everything together beautifully. And let’s not forget Ben Clark and Guy Fletcher on drums—they keep the rhythm tight without overshadowing the delicate interplay between instruments. Honestly, the musicianship here is top-notch, but what makes it special is how unpretentious it all feels.
Listening to this record reminds me of why I fell in love with folk music in the first place—it’s raw, real, and rooted in tradition without being stuck in the past. Sure, some might say it’s "safe," but sometimes safe is exactly what we need when life gets chaotic. Plus, who wouldn’t want to escape into these melodies after a long day?
Final thought: If albums were food, Tabhair ar als an Oíche Aréir would be a hearty bowl of stew—you might not remember every single ingredient, but you’ll definitely walk away feeling full and content. Just don’t blame me if you start dreaming in Gaelic afterward!
