I grew up listening to a lot of Celtic, roots music. My mom had a few albums, and besides the spattering of classical, there were albums such as A Celtic Christmas, Traditional Highland Jigs and Póg mo thóin! – Ireland’s Finest Fiddlers.

If I haven’t always enjoyed it, it has at least been decidedly comfortable, familiar. In East Coast bands such as Great Big Sea and Ashley Macissac who play a form Maritimer kitchen party music that just insists I dance a jig (even if I have no idea how to dance I jig, muscle memory always seems to kick in after a gentle plying with a few beers!), as well as more conventional rock n’ roll acts from the west coast such as Spirit of the West and the Decemberists, that sound has echoed down through the ages from that foggy isle on the edge of the world. There is something haunting yet absolutely familiar in the bagpipe’s lament, like a lonely call from home. There is something deep within me that responds to that fiddle, the energy it rouses within me is undeniable.

I want to say there is something genetic in it because I just don’t have the same reaction to other culture’s more traditional sounds. In fact, I spent a year trying to learn Korean drumming in Korea but with little success; I just couldn’t feel the rhythms, I just didn’t get it. But perhaps it’s more of a deeply imbedded cultural memory. It’s an energy that vibrates deep within us.

I found Steve Earle a few years back. And what a find he was.

Steve Earle is a country artist. Plain and simple. And country music, for all intents and purposes is America’s interpretation of a particular thread of its population’s cultural heritage. It’s traditional music that draws almost exclusively from its Celtic legacy. It’s a working man’s sound. The sound of the lower classes, and so tells their stories.

Steve Earle is one of country music’s all-time greats. He recalls the heritage of his Scottish and Irish predecessors, those who arrived in boats fleeing war and famine, persecution and intolerance and simply found more of that in their new world. Pushed continually south, out of the northern cities and down along the Appalachians and other eastern ranges, the sound, the rhythm, that deep cultural memory traveled with them, evolved and developed into that uniquely American institution of Country music. There is an authenticity in Steve Earle’s music. It both recalls and makes its own. It straddles the old and new worlds, and I think more importantly, it connects us through time.

He tells us of old travails,

those of contemporaries,

and those taking place right now,

He explains how these human experiences are exactly that, human and timeless. As any great storyteller, he makes use of our shared cultural narratives and themes, but also makes all human suffering relevant and connected.