Christmas songs and music create special communal atmosphere over festive season
Despite living in Galway for several years now and being an annual frequenter of the Christmas Markets in Eyre Square, somehow, in all that time, I had never managed a visit to the Galway Beer Tent.
By contrast, each and every other aspect of the markets I have indeed become well acquainted with over the years, and there’s little I’m not a fan of. I insist on going on the Ferris Wheel each visit. I habitually waste (too much) money on the little carnival games that everyone says are probably rigged – and for my poor success rate’s sake, I hope they are. I have to stop and look at each knickknack-y stall that catches my eye, and compare the wares to what was up for grabs last year (up until recently there used to be, among all the stalls selling tree ornaments and kitschy festive crafts – the expected Christmassy stuff – a stall that exclusively sold shower heads! So there really is something for everyone I guess).
I love a good market on a regular day, never mind when imbued with the atmosphere created by the cheery spirit, colourful lights, and music this time of year brings. And so I’ve come to know the markets quite well. I know the best route to take to see everything without doubling back. I know which food stalls are worth the visit. I am, at this stage, probably able to tell you off the top of my head which decorations go where and exactly which songs they play on loop over the speakers.
But the beer tent is where my accumulated familiarity with the markets begins to dry up. For all my visits, and for all my willingness to spend money on overpriced goods for the sake of indulging in the festive spirit, that little pop-up pub that forms the centre of the city’s annual markets has remained a bit of a mystery to me.
This was not done intentionally. It’s just the way it happened. I could cite the usual culprit (Covid) for doing rid with a couple of the opportunities to visit, but it probably also has a lot to do with coincidence, the perpetually long queues, and the fact that the going price of a mulled wine in there isn’t very sustainable on a student’s budget.
Nevertheless, it’s the type of place you feel you have to go to at least once – even if only just for the sake of being able to say you have. And so this year, I finally got around to visiting it, dropping in with a few friends a couple of weeks ago… for about an hour that is, before we were politely ushered out to make room for whoever had had the foresight to book a table.
And as much as it had built itself a bit of mythology in my head the longer I forewent a visit, after all that vague anticipation, the Galway Christmas Beer Tent ended up being (apologies for spoilers) exactly what you’d expect: a host of tables, some music, and a lot of overpriced drink… and also, of course, a generally lively atmosphere.
Oddly, the one thing that surprised me was the music. I guess it was my expectation that like the rest of the markets outside, the beer tent would be playing holiday music on repeat. However – and perhaps I visited on an atypical night or at an atypical time – in the short time I was there, the ratio of our regular pub songs to Christmas tunes was unmistakably skewed in favour of the former.
I think I recall only two Christmas songs being played, and between the two that did, I can only recall the name of one – Fairytale of New York.
Like presumably the entire country, Fairytale is a favourite of mine when it comes to festive tunes – a sentiment so universal it sometimes feels like the most generic possible answer to “What’s your favourite Christmas song?”. But this was not the main reason it’s the only tune I can definitively name as having played during that visit.
The main reason, as many of you will have guessed, is because of the song’s lead singer Shane MacGowan, or more specifically, because of his recent passing.
As it happens, the evening I visited the beer tent for the first time was actually the very same day of his passing. At the Fairytale’s opening notes, you could see members at each table turn to each other to break the news – “Didja know he died today?” – before such conversations died away as the crowd all joined in to sing it together, in the collective, slightly off-pitch, camaraderie-tinged way a crowd always does when it comes on in a pub.
This is a phenomenon we are all familiar with – the start of a popular song causing little renditions to break out among the people gathered until the whole place has become a de facto, impromptu, amateur choir. It’s a practice born of good spirits and shared enthusiasm, and it’s something that’s hard not to be fond of (especially considering the fact that there’s usually a few drinks involved when it happens; ‘good spirits’ can be taken literally or figuratively).
It’s also something we come across a lot more at Christmas, a time when we tend to have more opportunities to share a few drinks and even just to gather around. That’s where a good sing-song thrives.
I know myself that in our family, a sing-song is often an inevitability at any big or late enough family gathering, but especially at this time of the year. The practice of singing together is something that feels tied not just to the holidays – in both the aforementioned sense and also because of carolling and the wren – but specifically to Ireland as well.
The sing-song is one of our longest standing traditions, one that helped create our reputation as a musical people, our expansive discography of traditional music, and even the way we sing, if you consider how stylings like sean-ós came about.
Like a good market, I will take a good sing-song any day. I love an excuse for a song. I love the communal atmosphere it creates. I like the way each person gets a turn to do a piece, the way everyone is convinced to eventually whether they’re initially eager to or not (it’s like offering someone a biscuit – “Ah no, I couldn’t possibly”, “Ah go on you will”, “No, no”, “You will”, “Ah sure feck it I will”).
And like a good market, in my view a good sing-song is one of those things that is only enhanced at this time of year – everyone knows the songs, everyone’s feeling merry, and everyone is gathered together; something that doesn’t get a chance to happen often enough, and something that is so important to savour as the years go on and we find the Christmas table ever-becoming a few loved ones short.
Whether it’s a bit of Bing Crosby played low as you put up the baubles, some Dean Martin in the background as you prep the big dinner, or joining in on a few tunes at the pub on the 27th, while carolling/on the Wren, or at a gathering with loved ones, it’s probably safe to assume that for all of us, music is part and parcel of the yearly festivities. The familiar sound of your favourite Christmas song no doubt is one of the things that instantly puts you in the holiday mood, like the smell of cinnamon or the sight of a box of Cadbury Roses.
As the year wraps up and we all (hopefully) get the opportunity to spend some quality time with our loved ones, fingers crossed we each will have as many chances as possible to experience the same joyful, communal feeling felt through simple things like a Christmas singsong, sharing a dinner, or having a few drinks with friends.
Happy holidays to those who celebrate, and here’s to a great year for us all in 2024.
