Biography for @folkandlorepod
Myles McCormack is a musician and songwriter from Belfast.
A tender soul in a concrete crannagh; (or woodland) this protagonist sits firmly in the bedrock of the idiomatic sound-oriented infrastructure; a Bootstrap Bill Turner type character amalgamated into the woodwork of traditional music here, north of the wall.
A chaser of rhythms and a runner of reels; McCormack plays weekly amongst fellow sessions hairs around sailor town and neighbouring boroughs; playing for pints and cavorting in the age-old tradition of nurturing the next generation of music makers.
On September 13th he will launch his debut album ‘Real Talk’ from the branches of its third story Ormeau Avery; to traverse the waves of streaming services in a mass migration of Irish cultural heritage.
Some of these songs have been ruminating for up to as many as ten years, meticulously crafted on the anvils of aspiration and resolve.
This is the final step, yet the first as a solo artist.
McCormack is a founding member of ‘Lonesome George’ a touring indie/trad hybrid made up of some of his closest adroit and indigenous friends. He was busy packing for Germany when we did this interview; getting his gear ready to manoeuvre his way across Europe with fellow creative cats prowling on their beat.
The album – we’ll it is stunning, it has a billowing sincerity that unarmed and untethered me; it’s organic, kiln-fired, it’s a time-travelling billboard of wanderlust and defiance. An eco-warrior in a world of synthetic attire.
It reminded me of just how much time I have spent accidentally listening to music; in cafes, bars and diesel cars, unconsciously programming my intellect to what is deemed as the norm at the expense of an eager heart.
For music is felt, not only is it heard.
So let the music of the folk again have her way with us, call us back to harmony and tone, to skin and bone and entwine with our memories and stories and tell our nomadic tales to our children.
Myles is an old soul, he greets tradition with a warm embrace and like those of us on this rock who have become accustomed to the suddenness of being taken upon by verse; he carries within his work that effervescent tenure to unravel mysteries & turmoil from both land and sea; to give voice to the aurora of colour that leaks into the veins of those who calls into deep.
This is not a collection porcelain songs, they have their rough edges and their grit and their defiance, they are so beautifully oblivious to anything else being made here right now on main street and this alone fills me with hope, hope that there are great treasures yet buried in these old hills, untamed, untouched and untapped.
And whether there be gold in our mountains or gas in our caverns, let it alone.
For our treasures are those which fill the eyes the ears, not the hands and the pockets.
Treasures that only those who have learned to become one with the land can truly earn.