By Jack Rafferty
“Some people have the nerve to think that over there is the UK, but it’s not.”
“What is it?”
“It’s Ireland, still.”
So says Charles Hendy, one of the Hendy brothers and the founding member of the band The Mary Wallopers, in the short documentary-style feature that GemsOnVHS did. As they ramble down a rocky road in their van, fuzzy leopard-print above the rearview mirror, on their way to Roche Castle, Andrew Hendy goes on to gleefully recount how the area was so difficult to police, because the IRA could hide in the rolling green hills. The two of them happily talk about how they would hide arms in construction equipment, then fire SAM missiles at helicopters patrolling the area, for the British dared not patrol on foot. The first song they sing in the video, graced with the grim backdrop of Roche Castle, is Dominic Behan’s “The Sea Around Us.”
The sea, oh the sea, is the grá geal mo chroí
Long may it stay between England and me.
They then play “Eileen Og” in a local diner. So many things in this scene remind me of growing up going to a local diner that I loved. There is such a warmth to their interactions, and a powerful sense of community. It is something that really made me miss this feeling, as I haven’t found a replacement for it in years.
After that they go to see a man named Pat Kelly, in his shed on the border, filled with all manner of odds and ends, historical pieces, guns used in the 1916 rising, letters from the H-Blocks, photos of Gerry Adams with Mandela, Castro, etc. They sing possibly my favorite version of Peadar Kearney’s “Whack Fol the Diddle (God Bless England)” I’ve heard, all while holding a union jack tea kettle. They conclude it with Charles kissing a photo of the Queen, and Andrew declaring, “She won’t have to worry about the heatin’ bill for Buckingham Palace while she’s burning in hell!”
They finish by singing “It’s All For Me Grog” in a local pub. Watching this made me greatly miss all the pubs I visited while I was in Ireland, and how I wish to return. It’s not something I want to overly romanticize, but there is such a sense of melding conversation, singing, music, art, the scent of strong stout, the flush of faces, heated debates, laughter. It is not a feeling I’ve had elsewhere at home or traveling.
The Mary Wallopers have been immensely important to me the past few years. Whether it was their live-streamed concerts that they did in their barn that they converted into a performance venue during the quarantine (which got me through many days), to my continued following of their growth, the release of their debut album, and their subsequent releases from there, they have been a consistent, and powerfully reinvigorating, presence in my life.
In a lot of ways, The Mary Wallopers carry on the important role of playing Irish folk songs and keep the spirit of anticapitalist resistance alive and well. Inspirations like Brendan and Dominic Behan, The Dubliners, The Wolfe Tones, The Pogues, and many more are evident, yet the Wallopers are entirely their own entity, overflowing with the perfect amount of humor, solemnity, energy, and revolutionary fervor. It is a strong lineage that they clearly acknowledge and respect deeply. Their music can range from jovial to mournful, as is indicative of so much Irish art and culture, and it is always rooted in a deep sense of justice for the people.
With the release of their most recent full-length album, Irish Rock n Roll, The Mary Wallopers show no signs of slowing down, which brings me much joy. I hope that someday they can make it out on a tour somewhere nearby so that I may see them, but either way, I’m just glad that The Mary Wallopers exist. They make this bleak life a little less so just by being who they are.
Thanks for the introduction to this band. I am enjoying their songs.
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