Fergal McAloon helps bring Yeats’ words to life through music

IRELAND’S literary reputation far exceeds what one might expect from a country of just few million people, but the disproportionate impact our revered poets and writers have had on the wider world is undeniable.

Sitting near the highest rungs of Ireland’s literary ladder, in the heavenly company of Joyce and Swift, Flann and Seamus, has to be WB Yeats.

His influence can he heard around every pop cultural corner, right from Krammer in Seinfeld, to Tony in The Sopranos; the lyricism of the Sligo-laid poet echoes down every avenue you turn.

But I don’t think I betray myself to be a philistine beyond regular measure when I say that I haven’t sought out a Yeats’ poem since I hoked my English book out of my bag in seventh year.

And I’d bet my eyeballs that this is true in general. Unless the uncultured circles within which I tend to run has skewed by perception, it seems like for most people, Yeats just seems too snooty, elitist and inaccessible to be bothered about. Owning a volume of his poetry would be like owning an expensive bottle of whisky you don’t even like. Shameful.

However, an album released earlier this year called ‘I Am Of Ireland’ – eponymously named after a Yeats poem – has managed to do what was once presumed the undoable: It has made Yeat’s fit for mere human consumption.

By setting 24 Yeats poems to Irish folk music, this award-winning album has managed to democratise the artist’s poetry, relieving it of the pompous toxicity that has typically repelled the unpretentious majority for so long.

It’s not far off miraculous.

The album is the product of the efforts of two Americans and a rake of Ireland’s best folk musicians (not hyperbole).

Artists featured on the album include absolute weapons such as: Seamie O’Dowd; Kathy Jordan; Kevin Burke; Eleanor Shanley; John Doyle; and Dromore’s very own, Fergal McAloon.

Speaking with Fergal, frontman with the Whistlin’ Donkeys, he explained how the album came to be.

“It started with an unexpected message,” said Fergal.

“Some Yeats admirer from America had been walking his dog, reciting Yeats’ verses in his head, when music began to swim around the lyrics, cushioning the words in lilted melodies.

“This guy, Raymond Diver, is an artist, but he had no musical background. He first set the tunes to classical music, but he knew that eventually they would end up fitting better in a folk setting.”

Mr Diver teamed up with another American, a producer named Paul Marsteller.

“The two of them started assembling a team of, predominantly, Irish folk musicians to bring their idea to life.

“I was delighted to have been asked to play along with this calibre of musicians,” said Fergal.

But they didn’t ask the big man purely on the merit of his good looks alone. The real reason Fergal was asked becomes glaringly obvious within a single listen of any of the four songs he sings. Each one’s a peach.

“‘The Ballad of the Fox Hunter’; ‘The Wild Swans at Coole’; ‘When You Are Old’; and ‘He Tells Of A Valley Full of Lovers’, they were the songs I done the vocals on. I should mention that I had the pleasure of being accompanied by a fellow Tyrone man, and masterful musician, Niall Hanna,” said Fergal.

If you haven’t already listened to the album, I advise to hasten to do so.

If ever there is a chance of penetrating Yeats’ protective grandiosity and temporarily tuning into his frequency, this album is it.

The album can be purchased online, and is also available on Spotify.

‘The world is full of magic things, patiently waiting for our senses to grow sharper’ – Yeats