IRELAND - JULY (PART ONE)

 
Sat 14 July, Wicklow Town – As mad as it might sound, there's a heatwave in Dublin. As good as the Martha Reeve's song it is too. Everybody seems happy, even those pasty people wearing track suits, but it can't last. Knives will be drawn on Friday night and the blood will spill.

The Kilfenora Ceili Band are playing a show in Dublin to promote their new album entitled "8". According to the flyer it's their eighth since the band formed in 1909. That's not a lot of LP's in 104 years. I have one of the precious eight on vinyl, a bargain bin job but it gets the odd spin. Not sure what year it's from and I can't dig it out to share this information with you as I'm currently nomadic and home is a long way away.

Met Nick Seymour of Crowded House on the street. He gave me a big "Hiya mate" as people do from that part of the southern hemisphere and a clap on the back as is the fashion with some friendly folk. I've been drinking with Nick a few times. Nice guy, but alas his music is not for me.

According to Olaf Tyaransen in the current issue of Hot Press  I’m “one of the great survivors of Irish rock ‘n’roll”. The award-winning journalist, writer / poet said this in his piece reviewing “Things Aren’t The Way They Used To Be.” Thanks Olaf, I owe you a drink. He’s also expressed an interest in doing an interview for Hot Press, but there wasn’t time on this trip to the Emerald Isle. Maybe next time.

A few days were spent in County Kildare where amongst a litany of strange activities I visited and got lost in a maze. I was lost for a very long time, but then I was found and all was forgiven. In the wild west of Ireland I rambled through the fields of Rockfield and later visited Grace O Malley's prime residence during her reign as the Queen of the Pirates in the 17th century. Rockfleet Castle is an impressive building but unfortunately the Office Of Public Works are fixing it up and we couldn't get hold of the key to open the door. Some other time. Over at Newport we had a drink and travelled on our merry way down twisty roads with the sun uncharacteristically beaming down like a blow-torch.

 
After rehearsals in Sonic Studios I had a quick bottle of cider in L. Mulligans Grocer in Stoneybatter where they boast of having over 100 imported beers. I’m told the proprietor had a falling-out with the Guinness folks (Diagio) and they don’t sell any of their products anymore. Apparently the food is great too. Les Keye’s pad is nearby so we drop over, taking photos along the way. In Mr & Mrs Keye’s back garden i drink a beer and chat to Jessica and Corina. The light summer breeze brings a sweet waft of incense, but moments later it smells of shit. I mention this to my comrades and Corina tells me the sweet smell is not incense but Ruby Elixir (Pitta) that she has in her hair. She kindly hands me her bottle and I liberally rub it into my own scalp, unaware that a bottle costs $125. Jessica tells me that the less enchanting other smell is dog shit curtesy of her 3 legged barking friend. I taxi to Harolds Cross, eat Indian food, rest, and hours later walk over to the Magic Glass Bar in O'Callaghans Hotel on St Stephens Green for the Pagans in the Pub Moot, which morphs into Politicians in the Pub.

Out in Wicklow Town we discover there isn’t a PA for tonights show and tell. After a bit of running around and a few phone calls the problem is sorted out and on we go. I enjoyed what Al describes as a “chicken-wire” gig.

 

Wed 17 July, Kildare & Dublin – Walked a few miles into Straffan in the blinding sun. Nothing much to do but visit the graveyard and take photographs. Worked on a few songs getting the lyrics for Fiery Frank and a few others which shall remain nameless.

Off on a ramble in the jam-jar. At the Hill of Tara we visited the Lia Fail (Stone Of Destiny)one of the four treasures of the Tuatha De Danann and the place where the High Kings of Ireland were coronated. Across the field we located Cormac MacAirts former dwelling place and down the hill, Grainne’s rath. Cormac was High King of Ireland around the time of Finn MacCool and apparently reigned for forty years. Grainne was Cormacs daughter, a femme fatale by all accounts and caused a lot of hassle in her time.  In the gift shop I bought a bag of damaar white incense and a piece of jewellery engraved with a triple spiral - ‘the intestines of the goddess’. You can never ever have enough jewellery.

 

Drove down through Dunshaughlin and Curragha, but we couldn’t find Garristown. We were lost and all the maps in the world couldn’t save us, but trusting ones instinct works and I listened to the little quiet/loud voice in my head and eventualy we located Four Knocks (Fuair Cnocs – the Cold Hills) a megalithic burial mound near Naul. Got the key from Mrs White and unlocked the door and greeted the ancestors. It may have been better to visit on a dark bleak winters day. Death and sunny summer days dont go well together.

Back in Dublin Lorrain McColgan from The Winters arrived in to Sonic. Al and I had spent a few hours laying down five songs. Lorrain sang on two, sounding sultry and cool.