How did this "Celtic" thing start anyway? Nobody who had ever seen a school-hall ballad group could ever, even in their wildest fantasies, have imagined something like the Corrs. It's a long way from white blouses and black skirts to slinking around the planet in your shift. And nobody, but nobody, could have foretold the coming of Flatley - except perhaps the man himself. So how did it all happen? When exactly did the music industry, that spoilt offspring of technology and marketing, start leering at things Irish? And when did we leer back?
To find the answer we must go back beyond U2, back beyond the Clancys, back beyond John McCormack and park our time-machine somewhere at the start of the last century. Music changed greatly at this time, mainly because the old cylinder was replaced by the flat disc. Many new possibilities emerged as markets were eagerly sought and music was frantically recorded to appeal to them. The Irish market was spotted early on, and soon an assortment of New York labels such as Emerald, Gaelic, New Republic and Celtic were devoting themselves with vigour to Irish music and what passed for it.
Inevitably the bigger companies moved in, too. They had spotted the success of specialist labels and set about turning what had previously been a mysterious niche into a much bigger business. Columbia and Victor set about targeting specific immigrant communities. It didn't take much market research for them to recognise that the Irish community had the music and the interest to sustain a concerted rush of Irish material on disc. The music came out, the people bought it and sometimes they even sent it back to Ireland. And there it was - the beginnings of the "Celtic" thing. It was the Americans who started it. As the Irish abroad continued to reinvent the Ireland they had left behind, a certain type of romantic vaudeville Ireland was marketed with great success. The music is rare stuff indeed. At first-listen, it can sound like the worst kind of Paddywhackery, but even at its most kitsch there is often extraordinary musicianship. In among all that toora-loora, there is much to marvel at. And if it doesn't always sound quite right, there's a good reason for it. Many of these first recordings aimed at the Irish music market were not made by Irish musicians at all.
In fact, many of the performances were by people simply imitating Irish musicians. That said, violinists such as John Witzmann, Leopold Moeslein and Charles D'Almaine, who played direct from the dots, were probably already quite familiar with the music. Certainly they would have heard plenty of it simply because Irish music had been a prominent dance music in the north-eastern US throughout the 19th century. The music had also been mixed into rural music in other parts of the US for many years. So Irish sounds were by no means a complete novelty.
There is, nevertheless, an intriguing question about the impact of these faux-Irish musicians on the music. It is impossible to calculate their influence on real Irish musicians - but something must have given. The most important thing, however, was that they got recorded Irish music well on its way and soon Irish musicians themselves were being asked to record for the bigger labels. By the 1920s, a serious Irish recording scene was up and running in New York.
One of the most successful outfits of the period was the Flanagan Brothers. Mike, Joe and Louis were originally from Waterford, but they had found a new life in Manhattan. Joe played accordion and Mike played banjo - a new departure in Irish music at the time. Louis played banjo too, but he also played (twin-necked) guitar and this was probably the first time guitar was used in Irish music. Between them, the Flanagans came up with a noise that worked in a brand new context and an exuberant Irish/American dance music began to shake the ballrooms of New York City.
They had recorded initially for the smaller labels such as Vocalion but in 1923 signed to Columbia. The cultural twist was that Columbia was in partnership with EMI in Britain and this meant that their records, made under licence in England, were suddenly for sale in Ireland. It was the classic case of bringing it all back home - the music was back, changed and the Flanagans' foot-tapping gusto and twang proved very popular indeed. Tunes We Like to Play on Paddy's Day on Viva Voce records, features 24 re-mastered tracks which date from their first appearance on disc in 1921 right up to their last recording in 1933. Along with thorough sleevenotes from Harry Bradshaw, it's a revealing glimpse of the early days of the music twisting to meet the market - the "Celtic" thing in its infancy.
In the US, too, the Flanagans grew further in stature. Their appeal spread with the inclusion in their repertoire of various comic sketches and even some peculiar pan-national pieces - early world-music perhaps? Put it all together and you had an act which could run the full length of popular Irish/Americana from vaudeville to barndances to jigs and reels and back to Erin go Bragh. It made them stars - Ireland's first supergroup.
There have, of course, been those who have long kept the faith with all those old, whooshing 78s that made their way from the US. De Danaan recorded Star Spangled Molly, influenced entirely by that era, and even managed to re-introduce the Flanagans' musichall version of My Irish Molly-O as a bit of a hit. Ron Kavana has compiled a great series of recordings for the Globestyle Irish label which feature the music of this period on CDs entitled I'm Leaving Tipperary and Treasure of My Heart. All of it making a brave attempt to re-establish the position of these pioneering pop stars, who have long been lost in the shuffle.
But by and large, the music of 1920s and 1930s Irish-America tends to make us a little uneasy. Maybe the confident new Ireland isn't quite confident enough yet to take the Flanagan Brothers back on board. The music might seem a little silly at times - but it's not.
The Flanagans and others were a genuine expression of the Irish in the US. They adapted the music, with style, to different circumstances. They were also one of the first successful attempts to sell Ireland and the "Celtic" thing as a marketing concept - now everyone else is just picking up the pieces.