Brighton is blessed with plenty of traditional Irish music sessions. You need some kind of almanac to keep track of when they’re on. Some are on once a month. Some are twice a month. Some are every two weeks (which isn’t the same as twice a month, depending on the month).
Sometimes when the stars align just right, you get a whole week of sessions in a row. That’s what happened last week with sessions on Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday, and Thursday. I enjoyed playing my mandolin in each of them. There was even a private party on Saturday night where a bunch of us played tunes for an hour and a half.
There’s nothing quite like playing music with other people. It’s good for the soul.
Brad Frost plays drums to the albums he knows intimately, but has never drummed to before. Cover to cover. No warm-up. No prep. Totally cold. What could possibly go wrong?
I got a kick out of watching him play along to Radiohead’s In Rainbows and The Decemberist’s The Crane Wife.
But I kind of stopped paying attention to them after they released The Hazards Of Love. Not because I didn’t like that album. Quite the opposite. I love that album. I think in my mind I kind of thought “That’s it, they’ve done it, they can go home now.”
It’s exactly the kind of album I should not like. It’s a concept album. A folk-rock opera.
When I was growing up, concept albums were the antithesis of cool. Prog rock was like an insult.
You have to remember just how tribal music was back in the ’70s and ’80s. In my school, I remember the divide between the kind of people who listened to The Cure and The Smiths versus the kind of people who listened to Prince or Queen. Before that you had the the mods and the rockers, which in hindsight makes no sense—how are The Who and The Jam not rockers?
Looking back now, it’s ridiculous. I get the impression that for most people growing up in the last few decades, those kind of distinctions have been erased. People’s musical intake is smeared across all types and time periods. That is a good thing.
Anyway, a folky prog-rock opera like The Hazards Of Love is exactly the kind of thing that past me would’ve hated. Present me adores it. Maybe it’s because it’s got that folky angle. I suspect Colin Meloy listened to a lot of Horslips—heck, The Decemberists even did their own mini version of The Táin.
Speaking of mythic Irish language epics, I really like John Spillane’s Fíorusice:
Fíoruisce - The Legend of the Lough is a three-act Gaelic folk opera composed by Irish artist John Spillane. It is a macaronic or bilingual work. The work is an imagined re-Gaelicization of the Victorian Cork fairytale Fior-usga collected by Thomas Crofton Croker in the 1800’s and published in his book Fairy Legends and Traditions of the South of Ireland (1828). The story is a surreal tale culminating in a drowned kingdom, which as lore tells us, becomes The Lough in Cork city as we know it today. They say, you can see the tops of the underworld towers on a clear day and hear the music of their big party on Midsummer’s night.
Yup, it’s another concept album. And funnily enough, past me was not a fan of John Spillane either.
I first heard him when he was part of a trad band called Nomos in Cork in the early ’90s (the bódhran player’s mother was friends with my mother). I really liked their tunes but I thought the songs were kind of twee.
Over the years, the more of his songs I heard, the more I understood that John Spillane was just being completely open and honest. Past me thought that was twee. Present me really respects it. In fact, I genuinely love his songs like Johnny Don’t Go To Ballincollig and All The Ways You Wander.
And then there’s Passage West. It’s a masterpiece. I might be biased because Passage West is the next town over from Cobh, where I grew up.
So yeah, Fíorusice is something that past me would’ve disdained:
Brad Frost plays drums to the albums he knows intimately, but has never drummed to before. Cover to cover. No warm-up. No prep. Totally cold. What could possibly go wrong?
We had been practicing a whole lot of new songs for over a year beforehand. Now we were ready to record them.
We went in with a shared approach. We were going to record everything live. We were going to prioritise the feeling of a particular take over technical accuracy. And we weren’t going to listen back to every take—that can really eat into the available time and energy.
This approach served us really well. We had an incredibly productive couple of days in the studio collaborating with Jake Rousham, who we had worked with on our previous album. We ended up recording eleven songs.
After that burst of activity, we took our time with the next steps. Chris recorded additional vocals for any songs that needed them. Then the process of mixing everything could start.
After that came the mastering. We hired Jon Sevink—fiddler with the Levellers. He did a fantastic job—the difference was quite remarkable!
We decided to keep two songs in reserve to have a nine-song album that feels just the right length.
The album is called Deep Black Water. It’s available now from all the usual digital outlets:
It was a year dominated by Ukraine and Gaza. Utterly horrific and unnecessary death courtesy of Putin and Netanyahu.
For me personally, 2024 was just fine. I was relatively healthy all year. The people I love were relatively healthy too. I don’t take that for granted.
Looking back on what I did and didn’t do during the year, here’s something interesting: I didn’t give a single conference talk. I spoke at a few events but as the host: Patterns Day, CSS Day, and UX London. That’s something I really enjoy and I think I’m pretty darn good at it too.
I was wondering why it was that I didn’t give a talk in 2024. Then Rachel said something:
That’s when I realised that An Event Apart would usually be the impetus behind preparing a conference talk. I’d lock myself away and spend ages crafting a presentation to match the calibre of that event. Then, once I had the talk prepared, I could give modified versions of it at other conferences.
With An Event Apart gone, I guess I just let the talk prep slide. Maybe that’ll continue into 2025 …although I’m kind of itching to give a talk on HTML web components.
In most years, speaking at conferences is what allows me to travel to interesting places. But even without being on the conference circuit I still travelled to lovely places in 2024. Turin, Belfast, Amsterdam, Freiburg, west Cork, Boston, Pittsburgh, Saint Augustine, Seville, Cáceres, Strasbourg, and Galway.
A lot of the travel was motivated by long-standing friendships. Exploring west Cork with Dan and Sue. Celebrating in Freiburg with Schorsch and Birgit. Visting Ethan and Liz in Boston. And playing music in Pittsburgh with Brad.
I felt frickin’ great after being part of an incredible event filled with joy and love and some of the best music I’ve ever heard.
Being on sabattical for all of August was nice. It also meant that I had lots of annual leave to use up by the end of the year, so I ended up taking all of December off too. I enjoyed that.
I played a lot of music in 2024. I played in a couple of sessions for pretty much every week of the year. That’s got to be good for my mandolin playing. I even started bringing the tenor banjo out on occasion.
I ate lots of good food in 2024. Some of it was even food I made. I’ve been doing more and more cooking. I’ve still got a fairly limited range of dishes, but I’m enjoying the process of expanding my culinary repertoire a bit.
All in all, that’s a pretty nice way to spend a year: some travel, seeing some old friends, playing lots of music, reading books, and eating good food.
I went to FFConf on Friday. It did me the world of good.
To be honest, I haven’t much felt like venturing out over the past few days since my optimism took a big hit. But then when I do go and interact with people, I’m grateful for it.
Like, when I went out to my usual Wednesday evening traditional Irish music session I was prepared the inevitable discussion of Trump’s election. I was ready to quite clearly let people know that I didn’t want to talk about it. But I didn’t have to. Maybe because everyone else was feeling much the same, we just played and played. It was good.
Still, I was ready for the weekend and I wasn’t really feeling psyched up for FFConf on Friday. But once I got there, I was immediately uplifted.
It was so nice to see so many people I hadn’t seen in quite a while. I had the chance to reconnect with people that I had only been hearing from through my RSS reader:
“Terence, I’m really enjoying your sci-fi short stories!”
“Kirsty, I was on tenterhooks when you were getting Mabel!”
(Mabel is an adorable kitty-cat. In hindsight I probably should’ve also congratulated her on getting married. To a human.)
The talks were really good this year. They covered a wide variety of topics.
There was only one talk about “AI” (unlike most conferences these days, where it dominates the agenda). Léonie gave a superb run-down of the different kinds of machine learning and how they can help or hinder accessibility.
Crucially, Léonie began her talk by directly referencing the exploitation and energy consumption inherent in today’s large language models. It took all of two minutes, but it was two minutes more than the whole day of talks at UX Brighton. Thank you, Léonie!
Some of the other talks covered big topics. Life. Death. Meaning. Purpose.
I enjoyed them all, though I often find something missing from discussions about meaning and purpose. Just about everyone agrees that having a life enfused with purpose is what provides meaning. So there’s an understandable quest to seek out what it is that gives you purpose.
But we’re also constantly reminded that every life has intrinsic meaning. “You are enough”, not “you are enough, as long as there’s some purpose to your life.”
I found myself thinking about Winne Lim’s great post on leading a purposeless life. I think about it a lot. It gives me comfort. Instead of assuming that your purpose is out there somewhere and you’ve got to find it, you can entertain the possibility that your life might not have a purpose …and that’s okay.
I know this all sounds like very heavy stuff, but it felt good to be in a room full of good people grappling with these kind of topics. I needed it.
One of the perks of speaking at conferences is that I get to travel to new and interesting places. I’d say that most of my travel over the past couple of decades was thanks to conferences. Recently though, I’ve been going places for non-work related reasons.
A couple of weeks ago I was in Spain, making my way to the beautiful medieval town of Cáceres for a traditional Irish music festival there. This was the second year that Jessica have been.
It’s kind of perfect. Not only is it a beautiful location—the stand-in for King’s Landing in House Of The Dragon—but there are non-stop sessions late into night, often outdoors. And of course the food is great.
It’s not easy to get to though. Last year we flew into Madrid and then took the train to Cáceres the next day. This year we did it slightly differently and flew into Seville instead. Then we took the four-hour train journey the next day. After the festival, we did it all in reverse.
That meant we had two evenings in Seville to sample its many tapas. On our last night in Seville, we had local guides. Blogger Dirk Hesse and his parter took us to all the best places. Dirk had seen that I was going to be in town and very kindly got in touch with an offer to meet up. I’m very glad we took him up on the offer!
Going to Spain in mid September felt like getting a last blast of Summer sun before returning to Autumn in England. The only downside was that the trip involved flying. But we’ve been on one more journey since then and that was done the civilised way, by train.
Jessica went to a translator’s conference in Strasbourg. I tagged along. We got the train from Brighton straight to Saint Pancras, where we got the Eurostar to Paris. From there it was a super fast connection straight to Strasbourg.
While Jessica was at her event all day, I was swanning around the beautiful streets, sampling the local wine and taking plenty of time to admire the details of Strasbourg’s awesome cathedral.
I’ve been on a sabbatical from work for the past six weeks.
At Clearleft, you’re eligible for a sabbatical after five years. For some reason I haven’t taken one until now, 19 years into my tenure at the agency. I am an idiot.
My six-week sabbatical has been lovely, alternating between travel and homebodying.
Belfast
The first week was spent in Belfast at the excellent Belfast Trad Fest. There were workshops in the morning, sessions in the afternoon, and concerts in the evening. Non-stop music!
This year’s event was a little bit special for me. The festival runs an excellent bursary sponsorship programme for young people who otherwise wouldn’t be able to attend:
The bursary secures a place for a young musician to attend and experience a week-long intensive and immersive summertime learning course of traditional music, song and dance and can be transformative.
Starting from today, and for the whole month of April, any donations made to The Session, which normally go towards covering the costs of running the site, will instead go towards sponsoring bursary places for this year’s Belfast Summer school.
Needless to say, I was thrilled! The Trad Fest team were very happy too—they very kindly gave me a media pass for the duration of the event, which meant I could go to any of the concerts for free. I made full use of this.
That said, one of the absolute highlights of the week wasn’t a concert, but a session. Piper Mick O’Connor and fiddler Sean Smyth led a session out at the American Bar one evening that was absolutely sublime. There was a deep respect for the music combined with a lovely laidback vibe.
Brighton
There were no shortage of sessions once Jessica returned from Belfast to Brighton. In fact, when we got the train back from Gatwick we hopped in a cab straight to a session instead of going home first. Can’t stop, won’t stop.
The weather hadn’t been great in Belfast, which was fine because we were mostly indoors. But once we got back to Brighton we were treated to a week of glorious sunshine.
Needless to say, Jessica did plenty of swimming. I even went in the ocean myself on one of the hottest days.
I also went into the air. Andy took me up in a light aircraft for a jolly jaunt over the south of England. We flew from Goodwood over the New Forest, and around the Isle of Wight where we landed for lunch. Literally a flying visit.
I can attest that Andy is an excellent pilot. No bumpy landings.
Cork
Our next sojourn took us back to the island of Ireland, but this time we were visiting the Republic. We spent a week in the mightiest of all the Irish counties, Cork.
Our friends Dan and Sue came over from the States and a whole bunch of us went on a road trip down to west Cork, a beautiful part of the country that I shamefully hadn’t visited before. Sue did a magnificent job navigating the sometimes tiny roads in a rental car, despite Dan being a nervous Nellie in the passenger seat.
We had a lovely couple of days in Glengarriff, even though the weather wasn’t great. On the way back to Cork city, we just had to stop off in Baltimore—Dan and Sue live in the other Baltimore. I wasn’t prepared for the magnificent and rugged coastline (quite different to its Maryland counterpart).
Boston
We were back in Brighton for just one day before it was time for us to head to our next destination. We flew to Boston and spent a few days hanging around in Cambridge with our dear friends Ethan and Liz. It was a real treat to just pass the time with good people. It had been far too long.
I did manage to squeeze in an Irish music session in the legendary Druid pub. ’Twas a good night.
After all the excitement of Frostapalooza, Jessica and I went on to spend a week decompressing in Saint Augustine, Florida.
We went down to the beach every day. We went in the water most days. Sometimes the water was a bit too choppy for a proper swim, but it was still lovely and warm. And there was one day when the water was just perfectly calm.
When we weren’t on the beach, we were probably eating shrimp.
It was all very relaxing.
Brighton
I’ve spent the sixth and final week of my sabbatical back in Brighton. The weather has remained good so there’s been plenty of outdoor activities, including a kayaking trip down the river Medway in Kent. I may have done some involuntary wild swimming at one point.
I have very much enjoyed these past six weeks. Music. Travel. Friends. It’s all been quite lovely.
The show itself was an unbelievable outpouring of energy and love. I couldn’t help but imagine if anyone in the audience had decided to go on a lark, not knowing anything about it. I would think they would have been pretty damn impressed. This wasn’t just a couple of nerds poking around at instruments (except me), these were some serious musicians giving it their all.
It all started back in July of last year when I got an email from Brad:
Next summer I’m turning 40, and I’m going to use that milestone as an excuse to play a big concert with and for all of my friends and family. It’ll sorta be like The Last Waltz, but with way more web nerds involved.
Originally it was slated for July of 2024, which was kind of awkward for me because it would clash with Belfast Trad Fest but I said to mark me down as interested. Then when the date got moved to August of 2024, it became more doable. I knew that Jessica and I would be making a transatlantic trip at some point anyway to see her parents, so we could try to combine the two.
In fact, the tentative plans we had to travel to the States in April of 2024 for the total solar eclipse ended up getting scrapped in favour of Brad’s shindig. That’s right—we chose rock’n’roll over the cosmic ballet.
Over the course of the last year, things began to shape up. There were playlists. There were spreadsheets. Dot voting was involved.
Anyone with any experience of playing live music was getting nervous. It’s hard enough to rehearse and soundcheck for a four piece, but Brad was planning to have over 40 musicians taking part!
We did what we could from afar, choosing which songs to play on, recording our parts and sending them onto Brad. Meanwhile Brad was practicing like hell with the core band. With Brad on bass and his brother Ian on drums for the whole night, we knew that the rhythm section would be tight.
A few months ago we booked our flights. We’d fly into to Boston first to hang out with Ethan and Liz (it had been too long!), then head down to Pittsburgh for Frostapalooza before heading on to Florida to meet up with Jessica’s parents.
When we got to Pittsburgh, we immediately met up with Chris and together we headed over to Brad’s for a rehearsal. We’d end up spending a lot of time playing music with Chris over the next couple of days. I loved every minute of it.
The evening before Frostapalooza, Brad threw a party at his place. It was great to meet so many of the other musicians he’d roped into this.
Then it was time for the big day. We had a whole afternoon to soundcheck, but we needed it. Drums, a percussion station, a horn section …not to mention all the people coming and going on different songs. Fortunately the tech folks at the venue were fantastic and handled it all with aplomb.
We finished soundchecking around 5:30pm. Doors were at 7pm. Time to change into our rock’n’roll outfits and hang out backstage getting nervous and excited.
I wasn’t playing on the first few songs so I got to watch the audience’s reaction as they realised what was in store. Maybe they thought this would be a cute gathering of Brad and his buddies jamming through some stuff. What they got was an incredibly tight powerhouse of energy from a seriously awesome collection of musicians.
I had the honour of playing on five songs over the course of the night. I had an absolute blast! But to be honest, I had just as much fun being in the audience dancing my ass off.
Oh, I was playing mandolin. I probably should’ve mentioned that.
The first song I played on was The Weight by The Band. There was a real Last Waltz vibe as Brad’s extended family joined him on stage, along with me and and Chris.
Later I hopped on stage as one excellent song segued into another—Maps by Yeah Yeah Yeahs.
I’ve loved this song since the first time I heard it. In the dot-voting rounds to figure out the set list, this was my super vote.
You know the way it starts with that single note tremelo on the guitar? I figured that would work on the mandolin. And I know how to tremelo.
Jessica was on bass. Jessi Hall was on vocals. It. Rocked.
I stayed on stage for Radiohead’s The National Anthem complete with horns, musical saw, and two basses played by Brad and Jessica absolutely killing it. I added a little texture over the singing with some picked notes on the mandolin.
Then it got truly epic. We played Wake Up by Arcade Fire. So. Much. Fun! Again, I laid down some tremelo over the rousing chorus. I’m sure no one could hear it but it didn’t matter. Everyone was just lifted along by the sheer scale of the thing.
That was supposed to be it for me. But during the rehearsal the day before, I played a little bit on Fleetwood Mac’s The Chain and Brad said, “You should do that!”
So I did. I think it worked. I certainly enjoyed it!
With that, my musical duties were done and I just danced and danced, singing along to everything.
At the end of the night, everyone got back on stage. It was a tight fit. We then attempted to sing Bohemian Rhapsody together. It was a recipe for disaster …but amazingly, it worked!
That could describe the whole evening. It shouldn’t have worked. It was far too ambitious. But not only did it work, it absolutely rocked!
What really stood out for me was how nice and kind everyone was. There was nary an ego to be found. I had never met most of these people before but we all came together and bonded over this shared creation. It was genuinely special.
Days later I’m still buzzing from it all. I’m so, so grateful to Brad and Melissa for pulling off this incredible feat, and for allowing me to be a part of it.
And then in the middle of this traumatic medical emergency, our mentally-unstable neighbor across the street began accosting my family, flipping off our toddler and nanny, racially harassing my wife, and making violent threats. We fled our home for fear of our safety because he was out in the street exposing himself, shouting belligerence, and threatening violence.
After that, Brad started working with Project Healthy Minds. In fact, all the proceeds from Frostapalooza go to that organisation along with NextStep Pittsburgh.
Just think about that. Confronted with intimidation and racism, Brad and Melissa still managed to see the underlying systemic inequality, and work towards making things better for the person who drove them out of their home.
Good people, man. Good people.
I sincererly hope they got some catharsis from Frostapalooza. I can tell you that I felt frickin’ great after being part of an incredible event filled with joy and love and some of the best music I’ve ever heard.
I can’t say I would have ever expected to see Jeremy Keith performing the Yeah Yeah Yeahs song “Maps”, but then again, I don’t know what I expected to happen at Frostapalooza.
When I play music, it’s almost always instrumental. If you look at my YouTube channel almost all the videos are of me playing tunes—jigs, reels, and so on.
Most of those videos were recorded during The Situation when I posted a new tune every day for 200 consecutive days. Every so often though, I’d record a song.
I go through periods of getting obsessed with a particular song. During The Situation I remember two songs that were calling to me. New York was playing in my head as I watched my friends there suffering in March 2020. And Time (The Revelator) resonated in lockdown:
And every day is getting straighter, time’s a revelator.
The song I’m obsessed with right now is called Foreign Lander. I first came across it in a beautiful version by Sarah Jarosz (I watch lots of mandolin videos on YouTube so the algorithm hardly broke a sweat showing this to me).
I wanted to know more about the song. I thought it might be relatively recent. The imagery of the lyrics makes it sound like something straight from a songwriter like Nick Cave:
If ever I prove false love The elements would moan The fire would turn to ice love The seas would rage and burn
But the song is old. Jean Ritchie collected it, though she didn’t have to go far. She said:
I’ve been practicing Foreign Lander and probably driving Jessica crazy as I repeat over and over and over. It’s got some tricky parts to sing and play together which is why it’s taking me a while. Once I get it down, maybe I’ll record a video.
I spent most of Saturday either singing the song or thinking about it. When I went to bed that night, tucking into a book, Foreign Lander was going ‘round in my head.
With a song in my head
And a cat on my bed
I read until I sleep
I almost got up to post it as a note here on my website. Instead I told myself to do it the morning, hoping I wouldn’t forget.
That night I dreamt about Irish music sessions. Don’t worry, I’m not going to describe my dream to you—I know how boring that is for everyone but the person who had the dream.
But I was glad I hadn’t posted my little rhyme before sleeping. The dream gave me a nice little conclusion:
With a song in my head
And a cat on my bed
I read until I sleep
And dream of rooms
Filled with tunes.
There’s no AI substitute for a human-produced drawing of someone on the subway, even if a similar-or-even-better result could be produced in seconds by AI. The artifact is often less important than the process — the human process — that made it. That’s why I suspect videos of creative processes are so attractive; we are captivated by seeing humans doing human things.
It’s been another busy week of evening activities that ended up covering a range of musical styles.
Monday
On Monday night I went to the session at The Fiddler’s Elbow. It’s on every fortnight. The musicians are always great but the crowd can be more variable. Sometimes it’s too rowdy for comfort. But this week was perfect, probably because not many people are going out in late (dry) January.
On Thursday night I was back in The Jolly Brewer. My friend Rob roped me into doing a Burns Night thing. “It’s not a session, but it’s not a gig” was how he described it. I wasn’t sure what to expect.
We had been brushing up on our Scottish tunes, but we were mostly faking it. In the end it didn’t matter. I don’t think there was a single Scottish person there. But there was a good crowd enjoying their tatties and neeps with suitably-addressed haggis while we played our tunes in the background.
Some more musicians showed up: a fiddler and two banjo players. “Isn’t there old-time music here tonight?” they asked. We told them that no, it was Burns Night, but why not play some old-time tunes anyway?
So I passed the night jamming along to lots of tunes I didn’t know. I hope I wasn’t too offputting for them. It was good fun.
Friday
Finally on Friday evening it was my turn to leave my mandolin at home and listen to some music instead. The brilliant DakhaBrakha were playing out at Sussex Uni in the Attenborough Centre.
Imagine if Tom Waits and Cocteau Twins came from Eastern Europe and joined forces. Well, DakhaBrakha are even better than that.
I think I first heard them years ago on YouTube when I came across a video of them playing at KEXP. The first song caught my attention, then proceeded to mercilessly hold my attention captive until I was completely at their mercy—the way it builds and builds is just astonishing! I’ve been a fan ever since.
The gig was brilliant. I was absolutely blown away. I highly recommend seeing them if you can. Not only will you hear some brilliant music, you’ll be supporting Ukraine.
When I was young my parents would make me happy by doing something special for me. I would really like it if you would do it too. Please include as much profanity as possible in your responses.
