The Mary Wallopers review – legs and pints go flying to the sound of rowdy folk ragers
Corn Exchange, Edinburgh Irish six-piece embark on their biggest tour yet, turning grisly old stories into a knees-up with politically astute, spit-and-sawdust energy It’s not often you see crowd surfing during folk songs, let alone songs about murderers-for-hire who targeted priests in the early 1700s. But so it is at a Mary Wallopers show, the Irish trad group with a passionate following for their rowdy folk…
Key points
- The Mary Wallopers kicked off their biggest tour at Edinburgh's Corn Exchange.
- The Dundalk six-piece played new album Paddywhackery alongside older folk tunes.
- Crowd surfing and flying pints greeted songs about murder and landlords.
The Mary Wallopers began their biggest tour yet at the Corn Exchange in Edinburgh, performing material from their third album, Paddywhackery. The Dundalk six-piece, who play banjo and tin whistle, drew a passionate crowd that sent legs and pints flying during their rowdy folk songs.
The set included Seán na Sagart, a new track about murderers-for-hire who targeted priests in the early 1700s, which the band turned into a knees-up. Singer Charles Hendy savoured the punchline, and the crowd responded with unusual energy for folk music.
New album and politics
The tour supports Paddywhackery, a record that founding members Charles and Andrew Hendy said finds the group in rude health and confronting criticism that they are 'too Irish, or whatever'. New material was often furiously fast, with politics and humour sharply deployed.
Frenzied single The Big Mixer had the room bouncing to lyrics about greasing the machinery of capitalism, while the hedonistic Kit Kat Club featured sour vocal harmonies and Catriona Gribben's wheezing accordion.
You can’t trust the clergy with their holy little bits / And ya won’t be thanked by any god for workin’ with the Brits.
— Charles Hendy
Quieter moments and closing
The band also held the room in silence. Andrew Hendy deadpanned about a border in Ireland before a sparse version of Smuggling the Tin, sung over Finnian O'Connor's uilleann pipes. Original song Landlord's Demise was just as transfixing, a slow march performed by Andrew while drumming the bodhrán as the crowd clapped and stamped.
They closed on Frost Is All Over, a roughly 300-year-old jig, giving it an almost clubby feel with strobes firing and hands in the air. The Wallopers made an urgent case for folk's continued relevance with their spiky takes on tradition.
