You’ve got one guess as to what The O’Reillys and The Paddyhats sound like, and its not a trick question.
The line up is packed full of Finnigan’s, O’Reilly’s, O’Shaughnessy’s and Callaghan’s (and even a roadie called Angus The Orphan) and they are from Little Dublin.
And you’ve got one guess as to where that is. If you said Gevelsberg. Western Germany, (Paddy) hats off to you.
Now, according to Google, there were in 2019, 4,904m people living in Ireland. Crikey their culture spreads far wider than that. Never mind the Sportsman who can stop New York when they have a big fight, the St Patricks Day Parades, the poets, the writers, there’s the millions (seemingly) of Celtic punk bands.
Let’s get the name Dropkick Murphy’s out of the way, because this is more folk than that. Actually, this has got more in common – sound wise – with the likes of The Levellers and Ferocious Dog, than the Boston Boys.
Right from the second that “Dogs On The Leash” sounds the alarm – literally – to start, this is riotous good fun. It is a rollicking good time, it is made for Friday nights, drinking dens, and boozing.
The authentic instrumentation makes this. You are just as likely to hear a fiddle and a whistle as you are a guitar, but catchy? You’d best believe it. You will not fail to have the choruses in your head. Whether you want to or not.
“Here It Goes Again” is part oompah band and part hoedown, but there is a gang-like feel to this, like if you take one on, you best come heavy, because they’re all ready.
The banjo opening to “James Brian” shines a light on the fact that this is a more nuanced attack than many, and the opening line of “Hobo of Mitchelstown” – “every village has a church and every town should have a pub” – rather neatly frames the band altogether. Traditional, but working class too. Hard working, good time music is the order of the day here.
“Millions” is typical of many here that the musicianship is top quality, but on the folk side of punk, before the chorus explodes. Make no mistake, either, these boys can do mini-epics. “Ferryman” is right in the middle of this and perhaps its corner stone. The hook is designed for a festival field at 3 o’clock in the afternoon, and the flute is perfect.
From “Dublin To Moscow” has a similar flavour to the Urban Voodoo Machine, perhaps – and the line “we prayed we had enough beer” seems a little redundant given that I can’t imagine a time when they don’t have beer, frankly.
“Overtime Work” is more what I thought the record might be like as a whole, part Cèilidh part riot, and if “Captain Without A Ship” is more rock n roll, for want of a better phrase, it is fun, and “Beautiful Fear” almost considers balladry, before pulsing its way into the groove that comes so naturally to OATP.
“Back Home In Derry” gets the acoustics out and tells the tale of a boatload of miscreants going out to Ireland “as the mainsails unfurled, our curses we hurled, on the English and thoughts of tomorrow” they sing, and its that type of poetic flourish, that you really cannot resist.
That one, actually signals a gear-change, and things slow down, reflect if you like, and “Shoe Shine Boy” is a well-written tale, while the closer “Farewell”, is, in this context, last orders – and you best believe they are getting them in. “We are not asking our liver” seems particularly plaintive.
Earlier on in this I mentioned festivals, and in many ways, you can see that type of environment as the natural habitat of O’Reillys and The Paddyhats, because they are exactly the sort of thing you would happen across and text your mates to say: “you’ve got to see these, they are ace”.
They are on record too. And “Dogs On The Leash” proves they are far more layered than the picture-postcard novelty act that you might have guessed they were.
Rating 8.5/10
