Think of a sound you thought you would never remember and it is here.
All the passion, humour, pathos and naked simplicity that makes The Dubliners unique in the history of folk music.
Here are the iodine Irish dawns with mists lifting oft" squat cottages tilting at the light. The passionate thunder of iron grey seas beating a message in a thousand coves. A rugged blend as rich as smoke from a peat fire.
Try and detect the fact that they have been together for ten years entertaining the world. It's impossible. Their music is as fresh as a newly-bitten apple.
I have seen them in the concert halls of Britain and Europe. In the Albert Hall where a woman, with a crucifix tightly clasped to her chest, broke down and wept at their velvet magic. In a sweltering Northern club where one man laughed so hard at their jollity his tears made his beer overflow!
The Dubliners…each an individual talent, but collectively as powerful as a force ten gale. Ronnie, with a voice like a bung being thumped into a barrel of stout. Luke, whose wild tearing songs nail you to your seat. The plaintiff tones of Ciarán Bourke. And John Sheahan and Barney McKenna whose musical dexterity weaves intricate mosaics on your mind.
Sit back then, take a glass and listen to the Dubliners: plain and simple.
Northern News Editor, Sunday Mirror