emigrant song

Johnny Connolly seems like a modest and soft-spoken guy, so he probably wouldn't say it himself. So we will: The 26-year-old accordionist, who plays with hell-for-leather speed and exacting accuracy, practically embodies the recent history of Irish music.

His parents, perhaps inspired by the '70s revival of interest in Eire's native sounds, started him on the box young. It was a time when Irish music, though in resurgence, hadn't quite shed the hick stigma that draped it earlier in the century.

"You go back to the '50s and '60s, and Irish traditional music was dying a little bit," recalls the Dublin native. "It was like the Irish language--it was looked down on. You'd almost be mocked in the street if you were interested in it. Even in my school days in the '80s, I was always the only kid in my class who was interested. And the other kids, they frowned upon it a little because they were ignorant about it. By that time, I'd sort of got the bug, so I didn't really care."

Connolly blossomed into one of Ireland's finest young players, touring the European circuit with a band called Anam by the time he was 17. Nearly 10 years later, he's just released a glimmering solo debut on Green Linnet, a prominent independent Celtic label. His personal rise mirrors an ongoing Celtic cultural renaissance. Thanks in part to efforts by the Republic's culture ministry, traditional Irish music thrives even as Ireland becomes ever more enmeshed in the economy and culture of a unifying Europe.

Eventually, like many Irish writers, musicians and artists through history, Connolly decided to seek his fortune elsewhere.

Rather less typically, he chose to move to Portland.

Connolly moved here in 1997, finding a haven of good and plentiful gigs in a corner of the world not usually associated with Irish culture. To hear him tell it, Portland's small, tight-knit and remarkably good Irish trad scene has its advantages.

"The scene on the East Coast is big, of course, but here we have a small scene but a nice little community of people who are very good," says Connolly. "In terms of gigs, the Northwest might even be better than Boston and New York.

"Ireland is so small--you tour for two weeks and you're done, and you can only tour one region, no matter where, every once in a while. You have to give it that breathing room. And in Ireland, you have so many strong musicians scrambling for gigs. You're all fighting for the same corner."

The match seems to have stuck. Connolly can often be found putting his squeezebox through its paces in the regular Monday-night sessions at the Moon & Sixpence. He titled his new album Bridgetown, posing for its cover shot on the Broadway Bridge. Perhaps most importantly, Connolly's move to Portland made possible a fruitful association with Kevin Burke, the legendary Bothy Band fiddler who's lived in town for two decades. Burke, an ardent supporter of Connolly for several years, helped the young accordionist hook up with Green Linnet and lent his masterful playing to three tracks on Bridgetown.

"The first thing that struck me about Johnny's playing is that he is a very clean player," Burke says. "Often, with younger people, you find that enthusiasm gets the better of skill, but he is very precise. And he has a very intelligent way of thinking about music, which, again, you don't often find in players of his age.

"I think he was probably interested in me for the opposite reason--I'm older and a bit more wizened."

Bridgetown showcases Connolly's skill and energy in a series of jigs and reels that avoids the New Agey over-production that glosses so much Celtic music recorded for the American market. "Going in, I had a specific plan," Connolly says. "I wanted an honest representation of what I was playing in gigs at the time. I wanted it to be--not simple, but honest."

The album also deals a few wildcards, most notably the inclusion of a lilting musette adapted from a French harmonica song. More reminiscent of the Latin Quarter than Temple Bar, the song showcases Connolly's flexibility and refusal to be unduly limited by the past. In that, too, his career shadows the evolution of his chosen music.

"Tradition is great, but of course it's constantly changing," he says. "It has to. If people don't develop and experiment, it will die."

Hollywood Theatre, 4122 NE Sandy Blvd., 224-8499. 8 pm Saturday, Oct. 20. $15 advance, $18 door. All ages.

Green Linnet

Thanks to the elven magick of RealAudio,

can be heard in its entirety at www.greenlinnet.com .

was recorded at Billy Oskay's Big Red Studios in Troutdale by ex-Battlefield Band member Ged Foley.

WWeek 2015