Labor Day is not a recognized holiday in Ireland. So while much of the US and Canada were enjoying a day off — the result of protests for fair working conditions organized by trade union workers from the late 1800s — it was just another Monday in Dundalk, in the far northeast of the Republic.
Still, it was the perfect contextual backdrop for a chat with Charles Hendy of The Mary Wallopers. The Irish sextet — co-founded by bothers Charles (guitar and vocals) and Andrew Hendy (banjo and fiddle), and now including Ken Mooney (drums), Róisín Barrett (bass), Finnian O’Connor (tin whistle and uilleann pipes), and Catriona Gribben (accordion) — plays folk music inspired as much by traditional and historical balladry as urgent, contemporary progressivism.
On their upcoming third album Paddywhackery, due September 18 via BC Records, the band holds an almost mission-based intention of singing against colonialism (“Crowns of England”), classism (“Worker’s Song” and “Landlord’s Demise”), and fascism (“Kit Kat Club”). Still, other songs are straight-up party songs, riling up listeners for a rollicking time, in spite of it all.
The Mary Wallopers have managed to capture this balance in their performances, as well. Since their self-titled debut in 2022, The Mary Wallopers have quickly become one of the biggest and most energetic live groups in Ireland and Scotland, even booking arena dates on their upcoming tour.
So on this Labor Day, in the lead up the release of Paddywhackery, No Depression spoke with Charles Hendy about traditional Irish music, industry, identity, political urgency, and the necessity of hope. Like other pieces in No Depression’s In The Deep End series, questions start easier then get progressively…deeper. Responses have been edited for length and clarity.
For US audiences who may be less familiar, will you please tell us about how you and your brother started playing music and the origins of the band?
A long, long time ago, me and Andrew started playing music. Our father was a bulldozer driver in a dump…and he found an accordion, put it in the cab of his bulldozer, brought it home, and started playing the accordion. So the first instrument that we attempted to learn was the accordion.
I think that's kind of an analogy for The Mary Wallopers, a little bit. We were always into music, you know. There was a great DIY scene in Dundalk, and I think there still is, kind of. So when we were teenagers, we'd go play gigs in this bowling alley that had a venue at the back of it. It was all teenagers. The only adults there were the adults that were selling drink behind the bar to all the children, which we did not complain about.
We started playing ballads, like folk music, when we were really poor, living in in the center of Dundalk. We couldn't afford electricity or anything, so we used to go into pubs and ask them to give us pints and crisps sometimes if we play music. Eventually, they must have figured out it was cheaper to just pay us, so we started getting paid for gigs.
Honestly, I suppose our attitude has always been to not compromise at all. We were happy to resign ourselves to being poor as long as we could play music all the time and do whatever we wanted. So we accepted that as a freedom before we ever thought about, “Oh, we should make this a job.” So no compromise is what got us to where we are now.
