About The Song
When Daniel O’Donnell steps onto the stage of the Millennium Forum in Derry and begins “Play Me the Waltz of the Angels,” the atmosphere shifts instantly. The lights soften, the murmurs fade, and a hush descends across the hall — as if everyone knows they are about to hear something deeply tender, deeply human, and deeply sacred. This classic country waltz, made famous by The Derailers and beloved across generations, becomes in Daniel’s voice a moment of pure emotional truth: a tribute to love, loss, memory, and the quiet presence of those who have gone before us.
The performance opens with a gentle instrumental introduction — the light sweep of the bow across the fiddle, the soft hum of steel guitar, the steady heartbeat of the waltz rhythm. It feels like stepping into a slow dance from long ago, where time moves gently and memories float like dust in a sunlit room. Then Daniel begins:
“There must be a power much higher than I…”
His voice enters like a prayer — warm, steady, and touched with the softness of someone who has known both joy and sorrow. At 2022, his tone has deepened with age, gaining richness and emotional weight. He doesn’t strain or dramatize the moment; instead, he allows the song to unfold with natural grace, letting the emotion rise quietly from within.
What makes Daniel’s interpretation so moving is his deep understanding of the song’s message. “Play Me the Waltz of the Angels” is not just a love song — it is a request to be reminded of a love that never dies. It is about seeing someone you loved so dearly in the movement of the music, in the memories that still dance softly through your heart. Daniel captures that ache with humility. His phrasing is gentle, his breath steady, and each line carries the weight of lived experience.
When he sings the chorus —
“Play me the waltz of the angels, and I’ll close my eyes and pretend…”
— his voice glows with bittersweet tenderness. You can almost see the memory he is conjuring: a slow dance with a loved one, a moment frozen in time, something held onto long after life itself has moved on. The emotion is not heavy or sorrowful — it is peaceful, full of gratitude, touched with the reverence of love carried across years.
The band behind him enhances this feeling with restraint and sensitivity. The steel guitar sighs softly, echoing the longing in Daniel’s voice. The fiddle weaves delicate ribbons of sound around him, giving the melody a dreamlike quality. The waltz tempo is slow, steady, comforting — the rhythm of a heartbeat, the rhythm of memory. Nothing is rushed. Nothing is overstated. This is a performance built on tenderness.
In the Millennium Forum, the audience listens in complete stillness. Some close their eyes. Some hold hands. Some let tears gather quietly. Daniel has always had the gift of transforming large concert halls into intimate rooms — spaces where listeners feel safe enough to feel their emotions fully. Here, that gift is on full display.
As the song moves into the later verses, Daniel’s voice takes on a deeper emotional glow. He sings of angels, of heaven, of the thin veil between those we love here and those we love beyond. His delivery is filled with humility — never preaching, only sharing. There is a deep reverence in the way he approaches these lines, as if the song itself is a gentle prayer for comfort, connection, and hope.
By the final chorus, Daniel allows his voice to float just a touch higher, giving the moment a sense of lift — like a memory rising into the light. His final words, “Play me the waltz of the angels,” linger with a softness that breaks the heart and heals it at the same time.
When the music fades, the silence in the hall is profound. It is the kind of silence that follows truth — and only then does the applause rise, warm and sustained, full of gratitude for what Daniel has just given.
In “Play Me the Waltz of the Angels (Live at Millennium Forum, Derry, 2022),” Daniel O’Donnell offers not just a performance, but a gift. Through his gentle voice and deep sincerity, he turns a simple waltz into a moment of communion — with memory, with love, with heaven itself. It is a reminder that the people we love never truly leave us; they live on in the music, in the quiet moments, and in every soft waltz that carries their spirit home.