Lullahush is experimental musician Daniel McIntyre who, on his new album, feeds the Irish folk tradition into a sequencer from which it emerges wilder, richer and stranger. Ithaca is McIntyre’s second album as Lullahush. As the title strongly implies, he belongs to the long, storied tradition of Irish artists who retreat from their home country to observe it from afar. Nowadays, people leave the Republic for more affordable locations, escaping the tech boom housing crisis. McIntyre lives in Athens, from where he sees traditional music and culture with a clarity that reveals it as something unexpected and thoroughly contemporary.
Ithaca includes versions of several Irish folk standards, all sounding as they have never done before. The album opens with the cry of a curlew and the ethereal voice of Saileog Ní Cheannabháin (of Sean-nós) singing ‘An Droighneán Donn’ (‘The Blackthorn Bush’), a much-loved Irish song. Her voice emanates from what sounds like a long-buried tape, full of echo and delay, accompanied by a rising storm of what could be glitches, or beats detached from their moorings. The curlew, however, sings as clear as a bell. The track makes quite a statement about McIntyre’s take on Irish romantic culture, heard through a distorted wash of modern electronica. It is the sound of living music, writhing and transforming as we listen.
The album is packed with cultural references, from the Flann O’Brien-inspired ‘Dónal na Gealaí’ (‘Daniel of the Moon’) to ‘Máire na Réiltíní’ (‘Mary of the Little Stars’), based on a poem by Greek writer Odysseus Elitis, and McIntyre’s 97-year-old great uncle Jack singing a Patrick Kavanagh poem on ‘Raglan Road’. However, Ithaca is much more than just an intellectual exercise. Lead single ‘Maggie na bhFlaitheas’ (‘Maggie of the Heavens’) takes a traditional reel and fuses it with a frenetic set of beats, and field recordings including a priest giving a blessing. The accompanying video is a terrifyingly rapid slideshow of Irish life, old and new, in all its manic variety. It is restless, challenging and confrontational, and highly enjoyable.
Throughout the album, the music is surprising and glorious. ‘Jimmy An Chladaigh’ (‘Jimmy of the Shore’) features exquisite vocals from Maija Sofia. ‘Dónal na Gealaí’, starts off high-minded before descending into a set of comically dirty beats. ‘Maija an Uisce’ (‘Maija of the Water’) has a kalimba sample and a rattling bodhran, with Maija Sofia delivering, this time, an informative lecture on Irish history. And ‘Maddy na Farraige’ (‘Maddy Of The Sea’) reimagines ‘The Grey Funnel Line’ as a garage track, a creative act of peculiar genius. Ithaca is a highly original album rooted in deep tradition, a combination that makes for exciting, and at times thrilling music.
