Kicking off with a cheery "How are yous?" before launching straight into the heartstring-tugging ‘Lowlands of Holland,’ Ye Vagabonds ended their North East absence in style, captivating the audience from the first pluck of the string. After all, in the words of Brían Mac Gloinn, "nothing says a Saturday night like a Scottish ballad about a drowning!"
Crowd-pleasing tunes like ‘The Hare’s Lament’ and ‘I’m A Rover’ threatened to raise the roof with full-throated crowd participation and whoops of appreciation, whilst we were treated to surely the most intense double bass shreddage this side of the Irish Sea. Easygoing and conversational performers, the brothers managed to create an atmosphere of intimacy and familiarity between songs, holding the attention of a crowd of concertgoers hanging off the Cluny’s various railings and balconies.
Quieter, more heartfelt moments included the touching ‘Danny’, about a classmate of Diarmuid Mac Gloinn, and a tribute to the renowned Irish language champion and broadcaster Manchán Magan, who recently passed away. As well as long-time favourites like 'Bacach Shíol Andaí', the band also shared a plethora of new songs, including two inspired by people they encountered on a single street and recorded in the same place, ‘Mayfly’ and ‘On Sitric Road’.
Seamless transitions between traditional songs which have entertained crowds for centuries and their own compositions displayed the blending of lineage-consciousness and innovation which characterises Ye Vagabonds’ best moments. Unfailingly composed and skillful, the band’s well-earnt easy confidence and technical ability shone through at every instrument change and language switch, with harmonies rich and honeyed enough to warm the stormiest of Ouseburn nights. They brought the best of both languages’ folk repertoire to the banks of the Tyne, taking the audience on a journey through Galloway, briefly sighting the Dutch coast, before returning to the Isle of Arranmore.
Simultaneously unique, refreshing and rooted in a storied musical lineage, each Vagabonds interpretation of a traditional song feels new, and so heartfelt you feel you’re listening to an autobiographical tale, testament to the collapsing of the centuries which all exemplary folk allows. Their equally powerful repertoire of original songs like ‘The Flood’, inspired by the ongoing housing crisis in Dublin, shone in-person, filling every inch of the space.
At the merch table, an exclusive 7” Live from Sitric Road was on sale. Due for formal release on vinyl at the end of the month, and not available on streaming platforms, the chance to pick up this unique memento cemented the night’s sense of inclusion, as if we were all in on some secret. I couldn’t help wondering how many other listeners through the centuries had similarly sought succour in a cosy, dimly-lit room, listening to the same songs. Unlike an 18th century pub-goer, however, I left shielding my new purchase from the wind.