SWEET BEAT MANIFESTO

St George s Market is looking swell. A massive refurbishment programme has brought it into line with the increasingly chic Laganside programme in Belfast, so now it holds its own beside the Waterfront Hall and the yuppie flats that arc along the river banks. It s starting to feel like Covent Garden in London, bright and metropolitan.
Many dignitaries have come to today s special opening ceremony. The community arts groups have also put out their stalls, so there are film showings, circus acts, a huge Chinese dragon, dance teams, disabled groups, actors and artisans. Happily, there s a performing stage in the corner as well, and a couple of speaker stacks that promise some good rowdy music.
But what the hell is going on up there? A huge, ancient drum on either side of the stage. They look physically intimidating, but just look more closely at the artwork on the side of them. Two representations of King William of Orange astride his horse, steeling himself for victory over the Catholic forces in 1690.
These are your proper Lambeg drums, native to Ulster, designed to make a ferocious noise and to cause major heart palpitations throughout the summer months. Drums with the worst PR in the world, seemingly out of place in the right-on atmosphere of this special opening.
Now here s the team that are going to play these monsters. They look like normal, steady guys. No dodgy tattoos are on show. Neither do they look like art terrorists the Test Department of this island.
Slowly, the beat picks up, slamming around the walls, causing everyone to leave their stalls and watch. It s a tribal thing for sure, but almost imperceptibly, the mood changes. You can hear a bodhran there as well, voicing another tradition, accenting the beat. And there s the plaintive squeal of the uilleann pipes, and some sean nss singing, bending our perceptions further. Finally, the sound is internationalised, with exotic percussion from the Orient and Africa, shaking it to the east and west.
Different Drums Of Ireland have played the White House and are respected in Japan. Their art takes them to community centres and posh municipal buildings. Their brief is beautifully simple. They take the bigotry out of Ireland s rhythms, and in the process, they redefine the exciting potential of the drum. One of the issues they raise is that both sides of the religious divide in the north have cut themselves off from an aspect of the music that they once shared.
In many ways, both sides gave it away, explains Stephen Matier, one of the group s mainstays. And both sides are starting to claim it back. As I see it, it s just one music, just different arrangements or different time signatures.
By way of an example, Stephen is talking his way through the history of a marching tune like The Orange Lily-O . The Hibernian bands also play a version, commonly called Shanghai Lil . And before that, there was a reel called The Swallows Tail , which in turn was developed from an age-old air. You can do the same kind of archaelogical dig with The Sash , and trace it back to a love song, when the object of affection was a beautiful girl, as opposed to some emotive regalia.
In the past, Stephen continues, Hibernian bands used Lambeg drums. In some places, they actually borrowed the drums off Protestant bands, and covered the paintings with a green sash. In places like Ballynahinch, the musicians used to play in both bands. They all knew the same tunes.
He s talking about how they played in the Lower Ormeau Festival last year, on July 20 only a week after the 12th Parade caused such anguish for the nationalist community there. But Different Drums, they loved. The group also played in the predominantly Catholic Short Strand on Internment Day. Once again, the Lambegs were given a good wallop, and the reaction was hugely positive.
Some people would be a bit uneasy about what we do, Stephen admits. It s edgy because there s that possibility. But the more we play and the more people hear about us, the less risk there is. From doing stuff that we weren t sure about, we re now being requested to do The Sash and stuff.
On the other side of the equation, they played a gig in Portadown Town Hall, a venue embellished with the trappings of Unionism. One of the drummers, Kevin, was from the Bogside, and he was amazed at the joyous reaction. He turned to Stephen in mid-concert and laughed. Jeezes, look, will ye? There s a load of Jaffas dancin to diddley dee!
Different Drums of Ireland started at the end of 1992 with The Kodo drummers from Japan set up a week-long workshop in Derry. One of the participants, Roy Arbuckle, got to thinking about the significance of the drum in Ulster culture. So himself and some friends started to experiement. In the early days there was no music at all, just the rhythms and some chanting. Still, it was a winner. Soon they were wowing everyone from Bill Clinton to the Duke Of Edinburgh.
Different Drums would be forgiven for sounding limp and liberal, taking all the the visceral power of sectarian music and replacing it with a tame version. But, miraculously, this thing still retains the power to excite. You are reminded of how people viewed the pioneering work of Sean O Riada and The Chieftains, when they found a new way to articulate traditional music. And once you learn to make an under-valued music swing, you re entering a very exciting arena. Northern Ireland needs these people.
The change has to come in people s hearts, Stephen reasons. And the only way we can do it is through some kind of artistic way, whether it be poetry, theatre, music or whatever. They re all tools. You can play the Lambeg drum to frighten the bejaysus out of people, or you can use it to put kids to sleep. It depends on how those tools are used. But, yes, I think they have the potential to save the place. n