Will he, Mick? Bride!
It was late at night in a pub in the west of Ireland when I first heard this song. This was back in the 80's when singing was not only common, but expected in an Irish bar. The village was Murrisk. the county was Mayo, and the singer was Jackie Byrne, the bartender. Jackie was a bit of a dick, but his voice could make angels weep.
Clearly, this was the "fat lady sings" song that no one could follow, except for the Irish national anthem, which bar patrons sang, unselfconsciously, at closing time back in those innocent days before the Celtic Tiger and "condoms on demand" as was an alarming issue at the time
I had never heard the song, or Jackie sing, for that matter. But the reverence the locals gave the song and the singer made me listen intently from the first words, "Well how do you do young Willie McBride. . . (I thought it might be a rugby song. Willie John McBride was a legendary second row for Ireland). . . do you mind if I sit awhile by your graveside."
After that I was lost in the story. I shed tears. And I was not alone. Jackie, tears streaming down his face from tight closed eyes with the words that make me cry every time I hear them and "again and again and again and again."
In between the story tells itself. The voice is a tired traveller seeking shade and noticing a name. The lyrics are different than I remember but the momnt is the same. "Well how do you do, Private William McBride. Do you mind if I sit awhile by your graveside.. " And it goes on to say, I can "see by your gravestone you were only 19 when you joined the great fallen in 1916 Well, I hope you died quick and I hope you died clean
Or, young Willie McBride, was it slow and obscene?"
Over the years I have tried to sing this song, I love this song. I can't sing it without cracking, It's the yin and yang of quickclean and slowobscene. I break like a little girl.
