It isn\u2019t just that Keenan is hitting up smaller towns across Ireland, but that the time will be dedicated to listening and exploring, chatting to locals, learning their stories, and visiting landmarks or important places where these myths exist. We\u2019re not so much talking old folkloric myths, but\u00a0modern ones, social ones, cultural ones, even new ones that Keenan himself may well make along the way.<\/p>\n
And he\u2019ll be sending his dispatches to us. Sharing his personal tour diary, gathering up the stories from this particularly special outing, we\u2019re handing the pen direct to him.<\/p>\n Today I set out on the road towards Sligo for the first date of the Chasing Myth Irish tour, it\u2019s been a tempestuous morning internally and externally as the weather on both fronts looks gnarled and I\u2019ve yet to have my immaturities pacified by a pot of coffee\u2026<\/p>\n People say that Sligo is Yeats\u2019 country, as the great esoteric wizard is buried nearby. Apt that it\u2019s under Ben Bulben where I\u2019ll bawl in front of the sold out Brees in Strandhill, and apt that I\u2019ve been drawn out to the Wild West for the first of 14 gigs.<\/p>\n Why? Because part of my reasoning for doing this tour is to\u00a0reconnect with the four provinces of Ireland\u00a0and the bardic way, seeking reprieve from the spreadsheet-type tour plan. I threw it out on social media that I wanted to put a run together, and within a few days, the dates organically filled up. There\u2019s one example for you of tradition and modernity working together in harmony; there may or may not be more as I go.<\/p>\n Serendipity chose Sligo, and I\u2019m happy to choose Connaught over hell today and spill my guts out in song for bed and board. There is no better place to begin: local lore and landscape are everywhere here, Queen Medb watches over us all from her Knocknarea cairn, there\u2019s talk of a man called Bernard looking for me to sing a song by a waterfall, which sounds beautiful if not for the pissings of rain before me.<\/p>\n I\u2019ll reiterate: I\u2019m happy when I\u2019m travelling, feel alive and full of purpose, feel of use knowing people will get something from the songs and the ceremony of the gig, as well as myself. I didn\u2019t want to wait for the proposed album campaign of 2026 to sing and play because, in doing the moving, I get inspired by new ideas and there also felt like an opportunity here to reclaim some autonomy while amplifying, if I could, local hubs, pubs and headers along the way.<\/p>\n Remember when things were simple and tactile and involved you emptying the tank and filling it up again with a room full of people in real time not reel time? Well, for now they are again, and all roads lead to Sligo on this a hopeful Thursday morning for the coffee\u2019s just kicked in and bejaysus I even feel a Westlife key change coming on as I get up from the chair.<\/p>\n Sligo, Strandhill to be exact, was a night of wonder and an invocation of what was to come.<\/p>\n On the morning after the first gig, we set out for\u00a0Belfast, we being myself and road buddy for this leg, Liam O\u2019Sullivan. I was due to be in Belfast at lunchtime for a BBC radio session with the band, and afterwards we were due to hit the road and drive a further two hours or so to Donegal, as the bilingual documentary about me,\u00a0Words on Canvas\u00a0<\/em>[Focla ar Chanbh\u00e1s<\/em>],\u00a0<\/em>was being screened in Ballyliffen.<\/p>\n Family messaged with weather warnings, the news said it was a red wind one. A Donegal friend said when asked whether the screening would go ahead: \u201cAye, there\u2019s great drying out\u201d.<\/p>\n After four songs captured for the BBC and I ran out to the car; a bass drum was rolling across the car park. I\u2019d never felt that wind before, if not by a cliff edge. Storm Amy raged, and trees fell on the road. Liam did a great rally driver impression, and I, the hapless co-pilot, shouted out directions from Google Maps.<\/p>\n We missed the screening by a few minutes, but thankfully, the trees as well, and I think the film festival organisers appreciated the effort. We ate some last orders from the kitchen and reflected on the day as the nine o\u2019clock news reported on the passing of an Irish laoch.<\/p>\n Slept, drove through the Inishowen peninsula and up to the O\u2019Doherty Castle, passed a hermit\u2019s house and on to Derry [Doire], the walled city.<\/p>\n The first thing I saw when I stepped out of the car was a majestic Celtic cross with my family name inscribed: \u00d3 Cian\u00e1in. I was meant to see it. There it was, that local lore, history and heroism I was looking for just waiting for me by the \u2018Free Derry\u2019 wall.<\/p>\n It\u2019s hard to describe the gig itself. I feel like by showing up for these gigs, we are all not just chasing myths but creating them too.<\/p>\n During my\u00a0soundcheck\u00a0the house lights blurred my line of sight but all of a sudden I could see the outline of a harp resting by someone\u2019s leg. Who owns the harp I said. \u201cMise [me],\u201d came a low, mellifluous voice.<\/p>\n The person approached, and I remembered meeting them briefly as I waited outside Kilkenny train station, four and a half hours from Derry, back in August. The man\u2019s name was also Liam; he jumped out of a taxi that day to tell me he had dreamt we\u2019d play together someday. We said our goodbyes and that was that. Here he was again, appearing out of nowhere with the wish to play three tunes in memory of the recently deceased Irish writer and folklorist Manch\u00e1n Magan.<\/p>\n \u201cIf this all feels strange, weird or unbelievable to you, dear reader, don\u2019t be so surprised. There is something mad and miraculous about being on the road around Ireland, something extraordinary that feels organic and almost expected when there\u2019s a gig planned with no great pageantry\u2014just the open door\u201d.<\/p><\/blockquote>\n<\/figure>\n If this all feels strange, weird or unbelievable to you, dear reader, don\u2019t be so surprised. There is something mad and miraculous about being on the road around Ireland, something extraordinary that feels organic and almost expected when there\u2019s a gig planned with no great pageantry\u2014just the open door.<\/p>\n Liam played his three tunes as doors opened and people filled the room. It was beautiful and then off he went again, into the night with the same intensity and humility as when he landed.<\/p>\n I was supported by local artist R\u00faa and a Dundalk native and old friend Finnian; both played powerfully, and the room buzzed and hummed.<\/p>\n My own set began with technical issues, wires were walked or leaned on, and feedback stung with a vengeance; it was relentless. I decided to not let the songs down or the audience either, so decided to jump into the crowd and busk it. This changed things, and the Derry choir kicked into action, and we all sang as one, elevating proceedings.<\/p>\n I jumped back onstage, the sound engineer, Terry, was up and down from desk to stage like a man trying to get his steps in! We were all on his side though, and chants of \u201cTerry! Terry! Terry!\u201d boomed out!<\/p>\n The set weaved from the new album to the older songs, and I was amazed at all the voices singing the words back through it all. Harmonies even!<\/p>\n One man became gradually more and more impassioned, and next thing he\u2019s up on stage with the shirt off saying, \u201cWe can do this human beings!\u201d I had to agree, the bedlam and the laughter and the connection in the room spoke for itself.<\/p>\n A tour tradition I\u2019ve committed to now is singing to the stars outside the venue so they\u2019ll guide us all into our next stop, and so out we went onto the street and sung \u2018God is a Magpie\u2019 and \u2018The Auld Triangle\u2019 as the security guards looked on in soundness as some passers by stopped for a gawk.<\/p>\n I have missed this way of life so much, I didn\u2019t even know it. There are no barriers between me and the audience, no setlist, nothing is over-rehearsed or scripted. I\u2019m seeing faces I haven\u2019t seen for a while, and word of mouth is spreading; a former self-confessed \u201chater\u201d is now even on board!<\/p>\n I\u2019m getting to connect with the land again too, and the welcome as we go from place to place. This tour is improvised and free and I\u2019m full up now thinking of what Listowel, Clonakilty and Dingle may have in store from the 9th onwards.<\/p>\n Ireland\u00a0has a rich history scattered from county to county, each with its own folklore weaved into the land\u2019s collective cultural identity. There is no separating … <\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":3605,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"_jetpack_memberships_contains_paid_content":false,"footnotes":""},"categories":[1],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-3604","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","has-post-thumbnail","hentry","category-blog"],"yoast_head":"\n![\"Chasing](\"https:\/\/cdn1.faroutmagazine.co.uk\/uploads\/1\/2025\/10\/Chasing-myths-David-Keenans-dispatches-from-his-Irish-tour-Far-Out-Magazine-01-819x1024.jpg\")
<\/div>Chasing Myth \u2013 David Keenan\u2019s tour diary<\/h2>\n
Part one: setting off<\/h3>\n
![\"Chasing](\"https:\/\/cdn1.faroutmagazine.co.uk\/uploads\/1\/2025\/10\/Chasing-myths-David-Keenans-dispatches-from-his-Irish-tour-Far-Out-Magazine-02-819x1024.jpg\")
<\/div>Part two: \u2018Yeats Country\u2019 and dodged trees \u2013 Sligo to Belfast to Donegal<\/h3>\n
![\"Chasing](\"https:\/\/cdn1.faroutmagazine.co.uk\/uploads\/1\/2025\/10\/Chasing-myths-David-Keenans-dispatches-from-his-Irish-tour-Far-Out-Magazine-03-819x1024.jpg\")
<\/div>Part three: a fateful reunion \u2013 Donegal to Derry<\/h3>\n
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