I think singing in a group gives a lot of people meaning to their week – a focus for them. And in times of bereavement, or in times of things like that, the choir is one constant in their lives. There’s a great sense of camaraderie and you wouldn’t want to be thin-skinned.”

These are the words of Geraldine Murphy from Ballyragget, who wouldn’t want to be thin-skinned herself as she is blessed among men – 30 of them, in fact – in the role of musical director of the Castlecomer Male Voice Choir.

How does she find it?

“Sure she’s delighted with herself,” remarks choir member Larry O’Neill.

“I’m made up,” she laughs. “I enjoy them. It’s never dull, never boring. They’ve great spirit and commitment; they’re great Trojans to raise money.”

Castlecomer Male Voice Choir started life as the Comer Choral Group, which was founded at a meeting called by Kieran Brennan (Kierney) 30 years ago. The choir sings whenever they’re asked – at concerts, charity events and funerals. They sing sacred, classical, traditional and popular pieces, with Les Miserables’ Bring Him Home being their most popular piece.

Every Christmas Day after mass, the choir sings out in the Shank Yard for all the people who have nobody to remember them. Geraldine found it very moving when they sang at her mother’s funeral.

“It made me realise how important they were to all these people, because they go off and sing when I’m not around, they go to funerals and they provide decorum for all of that.”

The choir members say singing at funerals is uplifting rather than sad, but they acknowledge that singing at the funerals of the 19 choir members that have passed away was difficult.

The choir celebrated its 30th birthday in October of this year, with an anniversary concert that drew 400 people to the church. The Band of the Southern Brigade also performed a song written exclusively for the choir to celebrate the occasion: The Copper Woman, by Mick Hanly.

Irish Country Living visits the choir during a practice session. They are singing Silent Night, but Geraldine keeps interrupting them, making all sorts of accusations of these lovely men.

“Drag out the ‘silent’.”

“Don’t rush ‘beams’ again.”

“You’re turning it into a triplet.”

“Some of you took a breath.”

Country Living is watching from the pews as the Comer men are standing up straight, chests puffed out, singing their hearts out, completely focused on the matter at hand. Inside I’m screaming “just let them sing!”, because when they do, it’s simply stunning ... and that’s before the harmonies of the high and low tenors come in, drifting across the church. Geraldine is correcting the tiniest imperfections, but that’s what makes them so good. And they have a relationship that works.

“One person might hit a wrong note in the second-last line,” explains Paddy Clancy. “Now she won’t point you out, but she will hear that and she’ll glance passing by you with her eye and she’ll let you know she knows it’s you. She could hear the grass growing.”

The choir sing her praises. “She is the most patient woman that was ever put on this earth, God almighty,” says Larry. “There’s only two ways of singing: right or wrong. She has no concept of it’ll do, or it’s near enough, or no one will notice. But she’s right,” says Christy McGrath.

Given the standard of the choir, you would be forgiven for thinking they don’t take in just anyone, but nobody is turned away.

“What does the song say?” notes Paddy. “All God’s creature have a place in the choir. Ninety-nine per cent of people are able to sing. Now you might not be a solo singer, but if you can hold a tune, you can sing in a choir.”

Castlecomer is a town that has always been noted for its music, Kilkenny St in particular, where every house “has talent in abundance”, which may help explain the choir’s existence in the first place. But getting 30 men in a small rural town to commit to a male voice choir is no mean feat.

It’s especially hard to attract younger members. The youngest member of the choir is in his early 40s. The oldest is Jimmy Farrell from Ballylinan, who is 92 (and who recently launched his second book, Pipe Smokers).

Choir chairman Martin Walsh thinks people join the choir when they settle down.

“When you’re finished running around the field after a football or a hurl. Or running after the girls!” adds Larry.

Singing trips

While the choir regularly performs in various areas within a 25- to 30-mile radius of Castlecomer, they have also performed in Budapest, Prague, Jersey, Chester, and Llandudno. But they say the highlight was an advent festival in Vienna where they sang in the town hall.

“It was an absolutely magnificent place, fabulous, and then we sang in front of the palace in the middle of the Christmas market for three quarters of an hour,” says Christy.

“And it took us about another hour to thaw out,” laughs Paddy.

With so many excursions over the years, the choir members are all very good friends.

“Going away there wouldn’t be a cross word between anyone,” says Martin. “Everyone looks out for everyone else.”

I’m slightly disappointed. Is there no scandal on this lot, any bickering over the years?

“On a personal basis we’re all way past that stage,” says Martin. “People are in the choir because they want to sing and they enjoy singing – that’s about it.”

The close bonds between the men are not just evident when they travel abroad, but also at practice every Monday night.

“The way I look at choir singing,” says Martin Walsh, “is it’s like being on any team game. You mightn’t be able to sing solo, but if you stand in and you’re in a certain one of the four groups that are in the choir and you can sing that note there, well then you can just work away there and, like everything else, you’ll have good nights yourself.

“And when you have bad nights, the lad beside you will carry you.”