St. Paddy’s Day is in the books for 2022. I had a two-hour set at the Dublin Pub in Raleigh Hills, a venue that I have performed at on and off (and in four different formats) since 2006. The nondescript building on a busy suburban road could be easy to miss – but once you step inside you’re transported to a proper Irish-American establishment with glib posters of Connor McGreggor, Irish aphorisms painted on the walls in a font pulled from the Book of Kells, and a proprietor that could offer the finer art of oiling a hurley to prevent it from breaking while smacking sliotars around the pitch. On this holiday the venue is jam-packed with enthusiastic hordes of all ages donning green glasses, necklaces, headbands, shirts and other bastardized commercializations that would make a swag-bag elbow-gripping tradeshow marketer blush green. If you’re lucky enough to be at the Dublin Pub on St. Paddy’s Day you might catch a set from Portland’s elder statesmen of Irish music – Darby O’Gill – who has been playing the same venue since the early 90’s.
On St. Paddy’s Day the Guinness is extra fresh – which is imperative for me because March 17 represents the end of my own St. Paddy’s Day Dry Run (covered extensively in an earlier post) in which I refrain from drinking between January 1st and March 17 every year. And it isn’t to say I get wasted on March 17 either (thank you very much). As a part-time hobby musician I have to work in the morning!
St. Paddy’s Day also marks the end of the part of the year that I spend the most time practicing, thus allowing my callused fingers to return to the natural state of doughy highly-moisturized meat sticks until I start practicing again for St. Paddy’s Day the following year. However, I created FolkeFIRE specifically to buck that trend (among other things)!
To that end, I learned a few new songs this year
Fields of Athenry is the first new song I learned and performed on St. Paddy’s Day. It’s a familiar Irish lament about jumping on a ship and leaving the family behind <insert reason/circumstance here>. I attempted the song to honor my Grandmother who had requested that I learn it for St. Paddy’s Day in 2020. The song was new to me and I didn’t get the hang of it in time to include in my COVID-influenced webcast that year. Little did I know she’d pass away just a few months later – making me feel like a rotten grandson for not honoring her request while she still graced this earth. This year I played it in her memory.
I also learned Hand Me Down Me Bible – another classic by the late great Luke Kelly. It’s heavily inferred in several live recordings that he wrote the song for Ian Paisley – the Northern Irish radical anti-Catholic bigoted priest that came around to peace and harmony toward the end of his life. He’d probably be pissed that I referred to him as ‘Northern Irish’ versus British, but you can’t pick where you’re born. #irishunity
I created a new arrangement for the song Skibereen. The song is a beautiful lament about the town of the same name and captures the time in Irish history when the British and their local allies would burn homes and drive people from their villages, many who’d either starve to death or depart for America, Australia or other parts of Britain (oddly enough). The village of Skibereen itself was particularly brutalized, but today produces world class rowing athletes.
Brave Attempts
Every year I scramble to learn a few songs at the last minute that I hope will make the cut. This year I practiced Rose Tattoo by The Dropkick Murphys. A fair attempt at bringing a little edginess into the set – but couldn’t get past the faceplant phase. The Parting Glass garnered another college try, but I couldn’t grasp it in a manner that I felt honors the virility of the song – especially when compared to effort provided by Hozier. I recently observed how the world of Irish music enthusiasts absolutely ravaged Ed Sheeran for his rendition of Raglan Road and figured I’d better tread carefully on the old classics.
I also attempted to revive Red Is The Rose but it didn’t ultimately make the cut for my performance. My friend Sarah Fields introduced the song to me when we were both in our early 20’s. She sadly passed away about ten years ago from a rare and cruel form of cancer. One day I will learn a passable version that I will play in her memory.
Old Standards
One of the first Irish songs I learned as an early-20-something is titled Seven Drunken Nights – a cheeky song about a drunken husband that suspects his wife of infidelity each day of the week. Sounds like a toxic relationship! Reportedly, the song was banned in Ireland in the 1960’s due to the lyrics of Saturday and Sunday, respectively. The song appealed to my youthful sense of humor and rebelliousness and has been a mainstay of my set ever since. This past week it inspired a gal named Kelly to run up to the stage and belt out every lyric in unison. I would have shared the mic, but you know, COVID. Another song with similar effects (for Kelly at least) was Come Out Ye Black and Tans which I learned a few years ago. I’d met a Bosnian historian who took a turn at researching songs of rebellion and it was one he claimed to be fond of. Jasmin, that one was for you!
I always include a Mark Geary tune in my set. I typically choose It Beats Me but there’s dozens more to pick. For example, I often fantasize about my girlfriend climbing up on stage to join me in our (nonexistent) rendition of the unparalleled duet titled That’s What They…. I’ll announce this artist with the underground knowingness best exemplified by one of the record store employees from the film High Fidelity, often spelling his name out as though some scribe were capturing all of my witty banter between songs.
Newly revamped this year from Glen Hansard (whose performance in Cyrano deserves a shout out) is his version of The Auld Triangle. I first heard this rendition of the song while researching Brendan Behan (as nerds like us do) and discovered a recording of him singing it to an enthusiastic crowd on Grafton Street in Dublin on Christmas Eve. You can find videos of his rendition sung in large concert halls, with other Irish songwriting legends like Damien Dempsey. I performed it this year imagining I’d emulate the experience and the well-versed crowd would join in for the chorus like in Glen’s videos, but I couldn’t inspire them … this year.
Recycling Music
For every new song I learn, I get to put a few played-out standards on the back burner. In the category of songs I didn’t have to force myself to play: The Black Velvet Band, Jug of Punch, Rising of the Moon plus a few others not worth dragging through the mud. That said, I did slog through Whiskey in the Jar and The Wild Rover. It’s worth noting I’d give my best shot at any song requested by the audience that I could play at least marginally well.
In the non-Irish category I played Hard to Be by David Bazan, and a brilliant song titled Are You Gonna Wait for Love to Leave? by a band from my hometown called Solvents. It’s worth noting the husband of the band’s talented violinist tragically passed away a few years ago. I love to play it in his memory, and even contributed a home-recorded version of the song for the three-disk tribute album.
Come to think of it, many songs in my set are in memoriam for people I’ve known or admired who’ve left too soon. I didn’t realize that until just now. But it makes sense in that music has often (for better or worse) been a salve during difficult times.
Politics and Music
Finally, as it relates to the FIRE aspect of my folk project – I made a chunk of change. More than 50% of my monthly goal for my ROTH IRA contribution and 4.4% of the yearly goal. However, on this evening I volunteered to the audience that I would put a percentage toward the Ukrainian Defense Forces who are literally defending democracy for all of the world at the moment, while the West (understandably) frets about what can be provided without starting WWIII. Slava Ukraini – you deserve so much more!
Luke Kelly himself was very political in his songs and his deeds. I briefly entertained learning The Button Pusher – a comical song written during the Cold War that makes light of a nuclear doomsday scenario – but figured it might hit a little too close to home this year.