“You’ve never listened to Leahy’s music?” the band’s manager asked, a hint of bewilderment in her voice.

“No, but I can’t wait to hear them,” I said, trying to salvage my remaining cool points.

“Oh my goodness. Wait until you hear them. They’re amaaazing,” she cooed.

Usually I don’t take this declaration too seriously. The job of a manager is to promote his or her product/band, regardless if they’re a Poison cover band or the next Charlie Parker. However, there was a waver in her voice that shook of reverence. I took this into account when I slid the disc in.

A couple of minutes later my ears were on the floor. From every nook of my speaker came a rush of sound that bordered on volcanic. Fiddles of every string and sound did laps around the room. Mandolins and pianos blazed behind them, raising a tidal wave of sound. In the thick of it all were percussive thumps that could only be attributed to the human feet. How could that be? I don’t know many funk bands that could keep a beat that fast. The communication was phenomenal considering there were nine different personalities vying for time on the instrumental freeway.

That was my introduction to Leahy, a nine-piece Canadian Celtic group that has more rise-on-your-feet power than a wizened snake charmer. The skills come from parents that had more music than blood flowing in their veins. The fluidity (despite the mini-orchestra size) comes in part from being siblings. In just five years since the release of their self-titled debut CD (1996), Leahy has become a musical tornado, whipping up a slew of fans every place they play. The familial cohesiveness has paid off with accolades pouring in from everywhere: named “One of the top 100 Canadians to Watch” by Maclean’s Magazine in 1997; 18 months on the road with Shania Twain; guests of The Chieftains for shows in Toronto, Montreal, and New York; performances on The Chieftains’ Gael Force PBS TV show; three Junos (Canadian version of the Grammies); 1 Big Country Award; 1 CCMA award; starred in “Leahy Live in Concert” for PBS in the United States; performance at Rideau Hall in Ottawa; the Governor General’s Awards in 1998; named on Billboard’s “Most Likely to Succeed: Talent Picks” in 1998; sold-out tour of North Carolina in early 1999; and sold-out an extensive tour of Quebec in Fall 1999. This was the first and largest tour of Quebec ever embarked on by an English-speaking artist or group.

These nine (of the 11 total) children were born to Frank and Julie Leahy of Lakefield, Ontario (population 3,000). The elder Leahys got rid of the television early, prompting their children to explore the arts. Frank taught the entire lot the fiddle to supplement the normal farm chores and homework. Julie, a step-dancing champion from Cape Breton, set the foundation for their dancing prowess. Legend had it that the Leahy household shook many a night from the musical army within.

The Leahys came to the world’s attention in 1985 when they were the subject of an Oscar-winning documentary, “The Leahys: Music Most of All.” The seeds were all there - the “black-Irish” look, instrumental dexterity, and percussive dancing.

“It wasn’t overwhelming,” said Denise Flack, the third oldest of the tribe. Denise has that voice and spirit that is indicative of Leahy’s live personality - charged and ready to delight.

“I guess the average age when you got at it (performing) was four or five years. It was a way of life and being exposed regularly was something you got used to. When the filming crews first started, we were very conscious of what we did, or how we looked. But by the end of it, they were behind us and literally over our shoulder for over a year. We got used to them and as the filming went on we all got a little more relaxed.”

At the center of this maelstrom was the eldest son, Donnell, who was a fiddling prodigy by the time he was 16. Donnell had an amazing grasp on the string genre, ranging from bluegrass and Celtic to classical and jazz. Donnell achieved veteran status as a teen because he (and the other siblings) had perfected the enigmatic art of working a crowd.

“Growing up, we played a lot of farm fairs where the rural people expected a certain kind of fiddling, dance and country music. We learned how to get the standing ovation, how to set it up and how to get it,” Donnell told one writer.

In fact, Leahy seems to be able to resurrect an upward position wherever they go. Most bands are lucky if they can get a 50 percent standing crowd. What’s the secret? You don’t set out to get the standing ovation because it’s not the ultimate prize,” said Denise. “In order to get the rush you want from performing, you have to feel the crowd as opposed to getting the crowd up. It’s such an exchange. For me, when I’m singing, I want to be at the absolute edge of the stage and be as close to the people as I can. You have to feel the crowd and balance the momentum of the show. It’s kind of like a ride, a feel thing. The ultimate prize is to get that rush of feeling.”

However, the constant playing beckoned an old nemesis that plagues many artists — burnout. The group had traveled and performed together every summer for 15 years. The camel finally broke in 1990 after a six-month run playing three shows a day at Phantasiland - Germany’s version of the Magic Kingdom.

“We just stopped. We were exhausted, but not just physically. We were, and you realize that in a family of 11 kids you want your space. Some went to school, others had spouses and families, and we grew up with our own people and became our own person.”

Donnell was the exception. The music bug had embedded in his soul and demanded that he spread the influenza. Enrolled in college, Donnell skipped his classes to practice 10 hours a day. In 1994, he began playing club dates around Toronto with sister Erin sitting in on keyboards. Like trickling molasses, the other “defectors” began dropping in on the duo.

“Donnell and Erin brought it back to a very natural state,” said Denise. “It was out of a desire to play, as opposed to perform and have a career. Everybody had to come to it on their own.”

The push for a family reunion actually came from an outsider.

“There was actually a friend who had known us for years. She said to Donnell, ‘What are you doing? You’ve got to play.’ It took a little bit of support like that, and that’s how it started. It became a domino effect for the rest of us.”

Seasoned black outfits (a la Johnny Cash) replaced the frilly getups of the fair days. The love of music dominated the old sense of just performing. The group was now playing things they loved - jams that had evolved in the family den.

“I think we’re at it today with greater care and purpose. Before, you were doing it as a kid because you were having a ball. It was neat because we got to travel. We still have a lot of fun, but we really care about it now,” said Denise.

Heads around the world began to swivel in Leahy’s direction shortly after their debut CD was released in 1996. It didn’t take long for the album to achieve platinum status in Canada. Things really began to froth over for the group in 1998. While taking home awards for Best Group and Best Instrumental Group at that year’s Juno Awards, they met fellow Canadian Shania Twain. The next day, Twain’s publicity agent called the band to see if they wanted to open for the country superstar. The fruitful relationship lasted for 18 months.

This was their biggest challenge yet. The group had a scant 30 minutes (each night) to get a country crowd off their feet. The only problem that materialized was getting people to sit back down.

“There was a good balance (between both bands). Shania’s country style is very musical and melodic, and our music is also based on melodies. The energy levels were very compatible. We’ve played for country crowds many times, plus we have four fiddles (laughs). Our music is compatible to everybody. I just don’t know what to call our music because there are no conditions on which to enjoy it. Anybody can relate, from a classical-minded crowd to a pop-minded one,” Denise said.

The momentum is only growing. To witness a live show is to be exposed to a myriad of musical worlds. Perhaps the most volatile of the sensory performances is the dancing. Leahy has created a hybrid dance that can only characterized as, well, “Cape Breton” (where their mother came from and subsequently introduced them to that regional dance).

“Cape Breton is a little island off of Nova Scotia. Cape Breton has a reputation for a lot of traditional and special style dances. Our mother started us off in that dancing and then we took it a step further with French Canadian step dancing. It’s kind of along the lines of Irish traditional dancing (i.e. “Lord of the Dance”). They have a stiff upper body, while we’re a lot looser because we use our arms and our whole body is engaged. Also, ours is a two-piece tap as opposed to a one-piece. It’s definitely a very driving, exciting, energetic, and demanding dance,” Denise said.

Need a label. Too bad. Leahy has escaped identity by plundering genres like jazz and Hungarian folk dancing. Their new album (expected release June 2001) ensures that Leahy will continue to be chameleons in their field. Vocals will be implemented for the first time on the studio release, as well as new instrumentations.

“One song, ‘The Skater’ (a friend told us it sounded like something someone would skate to) is on the verge of classical and it ends up almost like a marching band song. Denise said ‘B Minor Rock’ is, well, a rock tune with a lot of heavy bass. Whereas, on the other side, there’s a spiritual song with a capella and a lone guitar.”

Stardom is an elusive word this band refuses to recognize. Leahy is an outfit that intends to stick around solely because the music reaches down to the marrow. All that hard work on the farm has paid titanic dividends. By living a simple life (as youngsters and adults), Leahy will be able to ascend beyond the normal apex.

“We learned at a very young age how to work. Not just how to do a job, but how to work hard. As far as that helping us today, when we approach something, we’re not afraid to go at it. Don’t do it half, do it. In the end, if you stick to it, there is obviously a reward,” said Denise.

Funny, I thought they were already there.

 

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The Smoky Mountain News