"All of the Hard Days Are Gone" is an Irish-American song, written inside the American Celtic scene, that singers in Ireland then took home and recorded as their own.

This is an optimistic tune to lift the spirits, especially after a few of our more depressing songs about war and famine. But it is also a good example of how Irish music actually moves in the modern world — not in one direction, from Ireland outwards, but back and forth across the Atlantic, picking up new voices at both ends.

Kevin McKrell and the American Celtic Scene

Co-founded by Kevin McKrell in 1978, the band Donnybrook Fair released Tunnel Tigers in 1982. The album earned acclaim as "a landmark of the form" by pairing the swagger of the Clancy Brothers with an upstate New York sensibilities—offering an American perspective on Irish music that developed its own distinct voice rather than simply replicating traditional styles.

When McKrell established The McKrells in 1998, he integrated bluegrass elements into this Irish foundation. This blend reflects the broader evolution of Irish music in the United States, where it flourished alongside folk, country, and bluegrass rather than in isolation, producing songs that bear the imprint of multiple musical traditions.

A product of this environment, "All of the Hard Days Are Gone" carries the sound of an age-old Irish pub standard—and though it has earned that status through widespread performance, its history is far more recent than many listeners realize.

How a New York Song Got Recorded Back in Ireland

The most compelling evidence of the song's transatlantic journey lies in the diverse artists who have recorded it. Across the United States, it was embraced by Bob Shane and The Kingston Trio. Meanwhile in Ireland, it was taken up by Seamus Kennedy, The Druids, The Fureys, and the Dublin City Ramblers. Its reach expanded even further around the globe, recorded by Pat McKernan in Australia and North Sea Gas in Scotland.

This recorded legacy shows the Irish diaspora operating in a less conventional direction. Historically, the primary narrative centered on Irish emigrants carrying traditional songs abroad—as depicted in tunes like Thousands Are Sailing. In this instance, the cultural flow reversed. Drawing on the living traditions nurtured by his community in New York, an American songwriter crafted a song that resonated so deeply back in Ireland that local performers adopted it into the collective repertoire.

Because music travels without geographical boundaries, a song ultimately belongs to any performer who preserves and honors it—and this piece continues to thrive across three continents.

A Toast, Not a Lament: What the Chorus Is Doing

The strength of the song rests in its directness. Its chorus functions as a communal toast, declaring that the difficult times are behind, raising glasses high, and promising "it's all beer and whisky and songs from now on".

While Irish and Irish-American heritage features many sorrowful laments of departure and hardship—such as the poignant farewells captured in American Wake—this track offers the uplifting counterpart to that story. It celebrates the bright future those journeys sought to achieve: a time when the labor is finished, economic strains have eased, and friends gather to celebrate surviving the struggle together.

That is why it works where we use it, as a lift near the end of a night. There is nothing to explain and nothing to decode. The singer raises a glass, the room answers, and for the length of one chorus the hard days are gone — which, in a pub, is close enough to true.

For more on McKrell, Donnybrook Fair, and the full list of artists who have recorded this song, see the Oswego County Today profile of The McKrells.

— hear us play it live (video above).