Although this reviewer ambled along to Harcourt Street expecting to find the eminently good company of uileann piper and broadcaster Peter Browne, fate ensured that it was his namesake, a box player extraordinaire, who was holding court, alongside south Donegal fiddler Ois∅n McAuley and Sligo guitarist Shane MacGowan.
What started as an inauspicious night metamorphosed into one of the finest sessions this side of Stephane Grapelli and Martin Hayes.
Browne, multi-tasking on sound desk as well as on accordion, played with the fluidity, grace and elegance of a Margot Fonteyn and with the passion of Seamus Begley. His accordion cut and thrust from jig to mazurka rhythms with alarming alacrity.
As much at home with the intricacies of jazz improvisations as with the disciplined scaffold of trad, Browne played as though he were the illicit offspring of Dexter Gordon and Jackie Daly, defying not only chromosomal rules, but also musical ones.
McAuley's sliding fiddle was equally graceful in its pirouettes. Getting under the skin of John Doherty's Gusty's Frolics and The Policeman's Holiday, he transformed them into something altogether more crusty for the occasion. McAuley shifted gear effortlessly, from jig to slip jig and back again. Their Leitrim version of The Bucks Of Oranmore was positively spirit-shocking in pace and passion, fuelled in no small measure by MacGowan's driving guitar.
Dodgy sound notwithstanding, (with even dodgier listening from the punters), this was a night that rose from a struggling ember to full flame. Shades of Hotfoot, The Penguin CafΘ Orchestra, Johnny Connolly and Gerry O'Connor fused into one magnificent penumbra. Next time, fingers crossed, they'll find themselves in a more hospitable venue, where punters favour the music as much, or more, than the pint.
