In Borstal Boy, one of Brendan Behan’s cellmates expresses his disgust at some of the ways of passing the time practised by other prisoners as “a thing the Gaelic doesn’t have a word for.” “Hipster, trendy vintage clothes shop doubling as music venue selling fancy beers” would also have been a mind bending concept for the Irish peasant practitioners of keening and sean-nós singing which Rose Connolly, who performs as Róis, has reinvented for the 21^st century. That however is where she played her first London show. As I discovered, there was much in the performance that would have come as a bit of a surprise to Irish peasant singers.

Keening is probably a pre-Christian form of singing in which women would visit the house of someone who had just died and sing a form of lament by the coffin. It endured until the 20^th century. One of the evening’s standout tracks was Oh Lovely Appearance of Death, a song which sets out the advantages of being dead and feels like it could be four hundred years old. You might want to add it to your funeral playlist.  

Róis has collaborated with John Murphy of Øxn and Lankum, other groups which have completely reinvented the sonic landscape of Irish traditional music. She uses electronics and elements of jazz, though this live show was mercifully light on the jazzy stuff. She is also part of the Irish language revival and has moved from her native Fermanagh to the Belfast ‘Gaeltacht beag’ saying “I would like to live my life completely through Irish, especially when creating art, breaking the shackles of colonialism in order to fully thrive as a human and an artist.”

Her albums Uisce agus Bean and Mo Léan are her first contributions to this artistic, cultural and political project and show a deep familiarity with the source materials which have inspired them. She opened the set with a gorgeous song in Irish which really showcased her wonderful voice and I assumed that the evening would progress in the same vein as she drew on her recorded material. I have probably never been so wrong about a show. It veered from traditional elements reworked with electronic backing to a euphoric dance music. It takes a brave musician to have their own song called I Feel Love but the track of the same name had the crowd roaring for more.

The closing tune had the audience howling with approval too and singing along. It was a very distorted version of the Irish national anthem which probably had De Valera spinning in his grave.

Róis is back in London in November to play a much larger venue in the same part of the city. I would suggest that if she wants to have someone resembling Jesus cavorting on stage in a thong and lacy bra that she checks the vicar is OK with it. That’s probably another thing the Gaelic doesn’t have a word for. I look forward to seeing how this intense live show translates from a very intimate venue to a larger setting. It will be worth catching.