Kitty Hoynes, an Irish pub and restaurant in Armory Square, tries its best to transport its loyal customer base to the Emerald Isle. On 17 February, this Irish ex-pat had the odd experience of hearing Neil Emberg, a Canadian musician, play a set of traditional Irish tunes. While parts of Emberg’s performance brought me back home, other songs were played with a non-traditional twist. The interior of Kitty Hoynes might look like a pub in Dublin, but Emberg’s performance, as fun as it was, couldn’t make me forget I was in snowy upstate New York.

Emberg did not introduce himself but dove directly into a non-traditional rendition of “She Moved Through the Fair,” one of my favorite Irish songs. Emberg began the song with a drone, a long-held note traditionally played by the uilleann pipes, a traditional Irish instrument similar to the bagpipes but played with the elbow. But Emberg created this effect by looping acoustic feedback. Indeed, Emberg combined old and new, pop/rock sounds with traditional Irish ones as he and his group combined loops, guitar, and a drum set with fiddle and bodhrán, a handheld Irish drum. He used all the characteristic vocal ornaments as he sang, adding extra notes to embellish important words. Audience members responded enthusiastically: they rose to their feet for this opening song, clapping to the beat.

Dancing to Irish music is only considered socially acceptable at a Fèis, a cultural festival where people sing and dance, but the audience at Kitty Hoynes ignored these unspoken rules. Emberg’s set included a medley of two traditional Irish songs, “Johnny Be Fair/Scotch River Jig.” A jig is a quick Irish dance; it would draw any American to the dance floor even without knowledge of Irish music. Not surprisingly, the audience leapt to their feet, dancing or attempting to dance an Irish jig. The fiddle led the group in a fast dance motif until Emberg began to sing.

Some numbers were less raucous, more intimate. Emberg accompanied himself on guitar on “One String Love Song,” playing a repeated guitar riff. His simple arrangement helped listeners focus on the words and vocals rather than being overwhelmed by the whole band.

Some people consider “Molly Malone” to be the unofficial anthem of Dublin, a song that can be sung anywhere and be recognized. Neil Emberg proved that was true, as the audience stood together and sang as the words appeared on a screen behind the band. Listening to these Americans sing this quintessentially Irish tune in upstate New York, made me understand why they loved their Irish heritage—it gave them a sense of community. Singing along to “Molly Malone” you couldn’t help but feel the tug of home. Ironically, this was one of my most Irish experiences, even though it happened in snowy Syracuse, New York.