The bodhrán is the heartbeat of Irish music. This ancient framedrum is traditionally made with a wooden body and a goat-skin head. The Irish used to beat the bodhrán marching into battle. In the front row there'd be 20 or 30 of them battering away. Bringing up the rear there'd be 30 or 40 bagpipes droning in the background. It's no wonder the Irish never won a battle. All the other sides had guns, there's our boys out on the front line marching to certain death.
When playing the bodhrán, the tones are controlled by pressing against the inside of the head. The stick, known as a tipper, is held like a pencil and shaken like a thermometer, bit like shaking snot off your finger :-)
There is something about a bodhrán that prompts an irresistable urge to humour. And bodhrán players are the butt of many jokes:
A bodhrán player was sick of the band abusing him, and decided to start his own. He walked into a music shop, planning to buy the first instruments he saw. "Give me the red saxophone and that accordion!", he said. The assistant said, "You play the bodhrán, don't you?" "That's right. Why?" "Well, the fire exinguisher I can sell you - but the radiator stays. "
Then of course there was the fiddle player who, while visiting the local pub, was asked for a dollar to help pay for the funeral of a local bodhrán player.
"Here's two dollars;" he says "bury another."
A fellow walks into a pub in Belfast with a plastic bag under his arms. The bartender asks "What's that?" "Six pounds of semtex", he answers. "Ah, thats alright; I thought it was a bodhrán!"
When playing the bodhrán, the tones are controlled by pressing against the inside of the head. The stick, known as a tipper, is held like a pencil and shaken like a thermometer, bit like shaking snot off your finger :-)
There is something about a bodhrán that prompts an irresistable urge to humour. And bodhrán players are the butt of many jokes:
A bodhrán player was sick of the band abusing him, and decided to start his own. He walked into a music shop, planning to buy the first instruments he saw. "Give me the red saxophone and that accordion!", he said. The assistant said, "You play the bodhrán, don't you?" "That's right. Why?" "Well, the fire exinguisher I can sell you - but the radiator stays. "
Then of course there was the fiddle player who, while visiting the local pub, was asked for a dollar to help pay for the funeral of a local bodhrán player.
"Here's two dollars;" he says "bury another."
A fellow walks into a pub in Belfast with a plastic bag under his arms. The bartender asks "What's that?" "Six pounds of semtex", he answers. "Ah, thats alright; I thought it was a bodhrán!"
3 comments:
*laughs* I have heard most of those jokes before, but they always make me laugh. Across the Pond, no one even knows what a bodhran is. Most people will stare at you blankly when you say "I play the bodhran."
Miraculously, I actually found a band to play with.
Most people will stare at you blankly when you say "I play the bodhran."
Probably a better reaction than running a mile in the opposite direction, which is what they do over here :-)
Haha
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