Biografía:
Tras esa imagen de entrañables abuelos barbudos está la formación más legendaria de la música irlandesa. Desde que, inspirados por la novela de Joyce, asumieran su nombre artístico, los Dubliners han dado forma a una carrera basada tanto en sus arcanas tonadas populares de inmigrantes y trabajadores como en esa reputación de crápulas santos bebedores que les acompaña desde que irrumpieron en 1967 con ‘Seven drunken nights’ (Siete noche ebrias), éxito censurado en su país que les proyectó incluso al mundo del rock.
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Otras canciones:
- Dirty Old Town
- Lord Of The Dance
- Molly Malone
- Rocky Road To Dublin
- Sean South From Garryowen
- Tell Me Ma
- The Lark In The Morning
- Whiskey In The Jar
- Carrickfergus
- All For Me Grog
- Auld Orange Flute
- Black Velvet Band
- Boston Burglar
- Bugger Off
- Building Up And Tearing England Down
- Bunch Of Red Roses
- Cavan Girl
- Cod Liver Oil
- Come And Join The British Army
- Darby Oleary
- Donegal Danny
- Dont Get Married
- Drink It Up Men
- Dublin In The Rare Old Times
- Eileen Og
- Fiddlers Green
- Finnegans Wake
- Foggy Dew
- Free The People
- Gartan Mothers Lullaby
- Go To Sea No More
- God Save Ireland
- Golden Jubilee
- Grace
- Hand Me Down My Bible
- Hot Asphalt
- I Wish I Had Someone To Love Me
- I Wish I Was Back In Liverpool
- If You Ever Go To Dublin Town
- Ill Tell Me Ma
- Im A Rover
- James Larkin
- Joe Hill
- Kelly The Boy From Killane
- Leaving Of Liverpool
- Lock Up Your Daughters
- Maids When Youre Young
- Marino Waltz
- Master Mc Grath
- Mcalpines Fusiliers
- Molly Maguires
- Monto
- Muirsheen Durkin
- Nelsons Farewell
- Nora
- Oh I Loved The Ground
- On Raglan Road
- Parcel Of Rogues
- Peggy Gordon
- Poor Paddy On The Railway
- Quare Bungle Rye
- Raglan Road
- Ragmans Ball
- Rare Old Mountain Dew
- Rising Of The Moon
- Roddy Mccorley
- Sally Mclennane
- Sam Hall
- Scorn Not His Simplicity
- Seven Deadly Sins
- Seven Drunken Nights
- Song For Ireland
- Springhill Mining Disaster
- Springhill Mining Disaster Luke Kelly Version
- The Bonny Shoals Of Herring
- The Dublin Fusiliers
- The Dundee Weaver
- The Ferryman
- The Fields Of Athenry
- The Glendalough Saint
- The Holy Ground
- The Irish Navy
- The Irish Rover
- The Last Thing On My Mind
- The Maid Of The Sweet Brown Knowe
- The Manchester Rambler
- The Molly Maguires
- The Night Visiting Song
- The Nightingale
- The Old Alarm Clock
- The Rare Old Times
- The Rose Of Allendale
- The Town I Loved So Well
- The Unquiet Grave
- The Wild Rover
- Tibby Dunbar
- Tramps And Hawkers
- When The Boys Come Rolling Home
- Whiskey On A Sunday
- Wild Rover
¡Cuatro años de duro trabajo!Este mes de mayo cumplimos cuatro años al aire. Seguimos trabajando en la difusión de este maravilloso instrumento, ¡gracias por participar en nuestra historia!
#----------------------------------PLEASE NOTE---------------------------------#
#This file is the author's own work and represents their interpretation of the #
#song. You may only use this file for private study, scholarship, or research. #
#------------------------------------------------------------------------------##
<[email protected]>
[email protected]
Date: Wed, 23 Feb 94 10:26:14 MET
Mailer: Elm [revision: 70.85]
Title: HOT ASPHALT
Performer: THE DUBLINERS
I'm a true fan of Irish music due not only for its
compatibility with my level of guitar playing (it is
improving though!) and this is one of my
contributions to its spreading throughout the world...
Very amusing text, one of my favourites...
--------------------------------------------------------------
Irish Traditional arranged by Dubliners
HOT ASPHALT
# (I play chords in a 2/4 rhythm: 1(down) 2(down'n'up) )
Em G D
Good evening all my jolly lads, I'm glad to find you well,
Em D
If you'll gather all around me now the story I will tell,
Em G D
For I've got a situation and begorrah and begob,
Em D Em
I can whisper all the weekly wage of nineteen bob.
G G
'Tis twelve months come October since I left me native home,
Em D
After helping the Killarney boys to bring the harvest down.
Em G D
But now I wear the geansai and around me waist a belt.
Em D Em
I'm the gaffer of the squad that makes the hot asphalt.
CHORUS:
G G
Well, we laid it in a hollows and we laid it in the flat.
Em D
And if it doesn't last forever sure I swear I'll eat me hat,
Em G D
Well, I've wandered up and down the world and sure I never felt
Em D Em
any surface that was equal to the hot asphalt.
# (Follow the same chord pattern...)
The other night a copper comes and he says to me: "McGuire,
Would you kindly let me light me pipe down at your boiler fire?"
And he planks himself right down in front, with hobnails up, till late,
And says I: "Me decent man, you'd better go and find your bate!"
He ups and yells, "I'm down on you I'm up to all yer pranks,
Don't I know you for a traitor from the Tipperary ranks?"
Boys I hit straight from the shoulder and I gave him such a belt
That I knocked him into the boiler full of hot asphalt.
(CHORUS)
We quickly dragged him out again and we threw him in the tub,
And with soap and warm water we began to rub and scrub,
But devil the thing, it hardened and it turned him hard as stone
And with every other rub sure you could hear the copper groan.
"I'm thinking", says O'Reilly, "that he's lookin' like Ould Nick,
And burn me if I am not inclined to claim him with me pick."
"Now", says I, "it would be 'asier to boil him till he melts,
and to stir him nice and 'asy in the hot asphalt."
(CHORUS)
You may talk about yer sailorlads, ballad singers and the rest,
Your shoemakers and your tailors but we please the ladies best.
The only ones who know the way their flinty hearts to melt
are the lads around the boiler making hot asphalt.
With rubbing and with scrubbing sure I caught me death of cold,
and for scientific purposes me body it was sold,
In the Kelvingrove museum me boys, I'm hangin' in me pelt,
As a monument to the Irish mixing hot asphalt!
(CHORUS)
---------------------------------------------------------------
That's it folk! More Irish songs soon to come!
I have a lot of Dubliners and Pogues stuff.
Any of you fans out there on the net, contact me:
[email protected]
On the rocky road to Dublin,
CIC
#This file is the author's own work and represents their interpretation of the #
#song. You may only use this file for private study, scholarship, or research. #
#------------------------------------------------------------------------------##
<[email protected]>
[email protected]
Date: Wed, 23 Feb 94 10:26:14 MET
Mailer: Elm [revision: 70.85]
Title: HOT ASPHALT
Performer: THE DUBLINERS
I'm a true fan of Irish music due not only for its
compatibility with my level of guitar playing (it is
improving though!) and this is one of my
contributions to its spreading throughout the world...
Very amusing text, one of my favourites...
--------------------------------------------------------------
Irish Traditional arranged by Dubliners
HOT ASPHALT
# (I play chords in a 2/4 rhythm: 1(down) 2(down'n'up) )
Em G D
Good evening all my jolly lads, I'm glad to find you well,
Em D
If you'll gather all around me now the story I will tell,
Em G D
For I've got a situation and begorrah and begob,
Em D Em
I can whisper all the weekly wage of nineteen bob.
G G
'Tis twelve months come October since I left me native home,
Em D
After helping the Killarney boys to bring the harvest down.
Em G D
But now I wear the geansai and around me waist a belt.
Em D Em
I'm the gaffer of the squad that makes the hot asphalt.
CHORUS:
G G
Well, we laid it in a hollows and we laid it in the flat.
Em D
And if it doesn't last forever sure I swear I'll eat me hat,
Em G D
Well, I've wandered up and down the world and sure I never felt
Em D Em
any surface that was equal to the hot asphalt.
# (Follow the same chord pattern...)
The other night a copper comes and he says to me: "McGuire,
Would you kindly let me light me pipe down at your boiler fire?"
And he planks himself right down in front, with hobnails up, till late,
And says I: "Me decent man, you'd better go and find your bate!"
He ups and yells, "I'm down on you I'm up to all yer pranks,
Don't I know you for a traitor from the Tipperary ranks?"
Boys I hit straight from the shoulder and I gave him such a belt
That I knocked him into the boiler full of hot asphalt.
(CHORUS)
We quickly dragged him out again and we threw him in the tub,
And with soap and warm water we began to rub and scrub,
But devil the thing, it hardened and it turned him hard as stone
And with every other rub sure you could hear the copper groan.
"I'm thinking", says O'Reilly, "that he's lookin' like Ould Nick,
And burn me if I am not inclined to claim him with me pick."
"Now", says I, "it would be 'asier to boil him till he melts,
and to stir him nice and 'asy in the hot asphalt."
(CHORUS)
You may talk about yer sailorlads, ballad singers and the rest,
Your shoemakers and your tailors but we please the ladies best.
The only ones who know the way their flinty hearts to melt
are the lads around the boiler making hot asphalt.
With rubbing and with scrubbing sure I caught me death of cold,
and for scientific purposes me body it was sold,
In the Kelvingrove museum me boys, I'm hangin' in me pelt,
As a monument to the Irish mixing hot asphalt!
(CHORUS)
---------------------------------------------------------------
That's it folk! More Irish songs soon to come!
I have a lot of Dubliners and Pogues stuff.
Any of you fans out there on the net, contact me:
[email protected]
On the rocky road to Dublin,
CIC
The Eames Era
The Earls
The Eden Project
The Elected
The Elegants
The Felice Broth (...)
The Films
The Finches
The Fine Young C (...)
The Five Satins