A few weeks back, Son of the Hound treated a booze-soaked and swaying crowd in the John Hewitt to a new song. That tune was ‘Galway Rain’ and by the crackling fire in The John Hewitt pub in a blistering cold Belfast city, it oozed a certain warmth and charm as it meandered its way down the west coast of Ireland between lyrical wisecracks and tall tales.
Fast forward to a warmer evening, next to your audio listening device of choice, and ‘Galway Rain’ rolls in with the jingle jangle of electric guitar and one of those ‘comeallye’ ho’s, unique to the Irish balladeer. Steeped in the finest traditions of the forefathers of Irish folk, this owes much to the likes of The Dubliners and the Clancy Brothers. With whistle solos, breakdowns The Pogues would be proud of and the swagger of the sozzled troubadour it’s musically faithful to the genre.
Lyrically we’ve rattled through some Irish stereotypes, children with pennies in pockets and Galway girls and their becoming eyes. It’s safe and homely and that’s what gets a singalong going in any Irish pub across the world.
With an upbeat tune, the rose-tinted glasses mask the shades of green and grey that the old rural Ireland conjures up. Summer’s on the way and those remarkable brown eyes of a girl by the coast are what’s getting Son of the Hound and the rest of us through that old bitter sting of Guinness heartburn and lashing seaside rain.
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