Sunday, March 15, 2009

Ever Screamed at the Wailing Wall?

One never knows what one stumbles over on the Internet.

After posting this, on the use of "wailing wall" by the judge at Bernie Madoff's sentencing, I got itchy and looked around.

Here are the lyrics of Flogging Mary's "Screaming at the Wailing Wall":


"Screaming At The Wailing Wall"

So God how come every wrong's been done?
With deals no Christ should allow
Once the communist now the terrorist
With blood as thick as yours
Now a caravan of clouds
Warns us all of winter showers
Then rattle comes the rain
With each bullet screams your name

So how come this gatherin' storm
Pours little on the truth?
Where the smokin' gun's a familiar
song let loose
With the bombed out cars
Come the falling stars
From a heaven we'll never know
And the nameless names
On the misspelled graves grow tall
We're still screamin' at the Wailing Wall

I'll liberate your peoples' fate
Spoke the Burnin' Bush
But the song of beasts
Grow with oil soaked teeth
Their dollor is mighty and true
Now the eagle soares the sky
Over refugee and child
And to all there is no end
Another day in perfect Hell

So how come this gatherin' storm
Pours little on the truth?
Where the smokin' gun's a familiar
song let loose

All Hail

Now a caravan of clouds
Warns us of deadly showers
Then a rattle comes the rain
With each bullet screams your name

So how come this gatherin' storm
Pours little on the truth?
Where the smokin' gun's a familiar
song let loose
With the bombed out cars
Come the falling stars
From a heaven we'll never know
And the nameless names
On the misspelled graves grow tall
We're still screamin' at the Wailing Wall

Oh I'll liberate your peoples' fate
As we scream at the wailing wall



Drawing on the hardships and joys of their own lives and a musical history ranging from old world Celtic to modern day punk rock, the seven members of Flogging Molly do just that, and they do it with a charm and an ease that makes them one of the most accessible bands performing today.

"We're not a traditional band," explains Dublin born singer/songwriter, Dave King. "We are influenced by traditional music and inspired by it, and we put our own little twist on it."

Founded in Los Angeles in 1997 by the expatriate King, Flogging Molly got its start and its name from a local bar called Molly Malone's where the band played and grew and laid down the blueprint for its eventual success. As every member of Flogging Molly will emphatically explain, there were no predetermined expectations for the band's sound. From night to night playing to a packed house at Molly Malone's, the sound evolved organically. Traditional Celtic instruments like violin, mandolin and accordion blended seamlessly with grinding guitars and pounding drums. Without consciously attempting it, Flogging Molly merged the music of King's childhood in Dublin with the music of his adulthood in L.A.

"If it didn't have mandolin, accordion, fiddle and whistle, it would be punk rock, and if it didn't have guitar, bass and drums, it would be traditional Irish music," King admits, adding, "You can't be bothered being labeled."

With a sound anchored in such diverse influences and with band members ranging in age from their 20s to their 40s - a decidedly non-MTV-friendly demographical mix, Flogging Molly was not embraced by the mainstream music industry. The band simply didn't fit any preconceived notions of what a "successful" band was. Not deterred in the least, Flogging Molly embraced a DIY philosophy (that's "do-it-yourself" for those of you not in the know).


More here.

Ready for the song to be performed?




And as for the location of that "Wailing Wall":

By habit the parents, their little girls and their supporters gathered in the shadow of what they call the "wailing wall" to contemplate the usually dangerous and traumatic walk to school. As always the girls were immaculately decked out in uniforms, with hair neatly combed into plaits and bunches.

But somehow this morning the atmosphere was different.

There remained an anxious tension on the faces of the Catholic parents who had endured 12 weeks of angry loyalist protests on their way to the Holy Cross primary school...

...the Ardoyne Road was deserted apart from one white armoured police vehicle sitting unobtrusively nearby.

But the street corner opposite the red brick of the "wailing wall" was still littered with the debris of a previous riot, the half-bricks and broken bottles of the many clashes this school dispute has generated.

And the reality is that it could all go wrong again so easily.

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