The Mary Wallopers at the Electric Ballroom, Dec 16

A walloping horde of fans remained undeterred by the frosty London weather and piled into the Electric Ballroom with high expectations. Sam Shackleton, who’s been touring with the Mary Wallopers, started the evening’s music off. He came on stage raising a toast to the power of Guinness, and immediately had the audience on his side. His opener, a careering banjo rendition of ‘Rip-Roaring Willy’, showed off his gravelly, piercing voice perfectly. Towards the end of his set, he picked up his guitar to play his self-penned ‘Old Scotch Cowboy’, impressing the crowd with his lyricism, energy, and mastery over the trad genre.

When the Wallopers themselves came on, it took a while for the hyped-up crowd to calm down enough for them to begin, with frontman Charles Hendy exclaiming, “Stop stop, for fuck’s sake!” (this of course did not achieve the desired effect, eliciting a jovial roar instead). There were six bandmembers in total: brothers Charles Hendy (guitar, bodhràn and vocals) and Andrew Hendy (banjo and vocals), Seàn McKenna (guitar and vocals), Roisin Barrett (bass); Finian O’Connor (pipes and whistles); Seamas Hyland (accordion); and Ken Mooney (drums). The energy and excitement of the group was unbelievable, especially considering that they were at the tail end of a jam-packed and lengthy tour. Their fun on stage was infectious – from getting the whole crowd to shout/sing ‘Seàn McKenna is a dirty lout’ (a lyric in the track ‘Rothsea-O’) as McKenna stood shaking his head, to introducing Barrett with a drum-rolled flourish that involved her running from her position at the back to the front of the stage and throwing her arms up to the roaring crowd. A magical mixture of tongue-in-cheek and authentic rock’n’roll filled Camden’s Electric Ballroom.

©Ryan Warburton

In all the tumultuous noise, mischief and excitement, an apprehension that the Wallopers’ more poignant songs would be skipped over, or worse, be inaudible started to niggle me. But I need not have feared. Introducing a ballad, frontman Charles told the crowd, “This next song is about economics.” Staring the noisy group down, he beat a steady rhythm on his bodhràn, adding, “It can be a spiritual song if you’ll let it be.” Realising that he wasn’t going to sing until room was made for his song, the crowd, incredibly, hushed, with loud shooshing directed at those slower on the uptake. Quiet achieved, Hendy delivered a beautiful and timely ballad about the gap between rich and poor. He picked up the pace as it finished, ending with a roaring admonishment against the rich which had the crowd whooping and shouting once more. Between dance numbers that had the room flailing wildly, the Hendy brothers took turns to calm the room and sing their ballads in this way. The rest of the band sat down on the side of the stage and watched happily, adding to the sense that the sharing, respect and enjoyment of music were priority here.

Alas, all good things must come to an end. In response to the groans elicited by the announcement of the last song, McKenna told us, “You have to go home at some point.” Although true, it’s not what we wanted to hear. But after two encore tunes, including a rollocking “It’s All for Me Grog” and Sam Shackleton’s welcome invitation back on stage, we had to be satisfied. Having listened to the Wallopers’ album on repeat since it came out in November, I was apprehensive that a live performance could disappoint. How wrong I was. As one lyric from the Wallopers goes, ‘I thought I was dead and in heaven’. This is far and away one of the best gigs I’ve been to in the past year.

The Wallopers are playing in London again in May 2023, in response to popular demand. Tickets and information can be found here. I would book sharpish – the size and enthusiasm of this gig’s crowd indicate a rapidly growing fanbase. It may have been their biggest show so far, but I have no doubt that that won’t be the case for long.