At some point either towards the end of my ‘career’ in primary school and in the early stages of life at the next level, I took quite the chiding – and absolutely not all of it was light hearted – from my contemporaries regarding my musical preferences.
The bugbear seemingly being that I was too friendly with ‘old people’ – ironically the parents of some of those giving me grief – and they were to blame for my fondness for ‘old’ music.
We’re talking about a time when cassettes were still king. With the odd ‘record’ given a spin for posterity too. Interests in this seat varied from Elvis Presley to Paddy Reilly, The Dubliners to Chuck Berry, Roy Orbison to Neil Diamond and a wild pile in between.
Then, at some stage, the brother left his Christy Moore Live At The Point tape in the cassette player in the car (remember them?) and to be brutally honest I’m not sure he ever saw it again because it was played to the point where the reel began to smoulder and cried enough.
A lot of the reasoning for that was down to a thing called homework. To say my stay in second level education wasn’t nice would be akin to opining Sammy Wilson would be unlikely to be looking for All Ireland Final tickets. Thus, the only way one could even feign interest in tasks assigned by the kip was if ‘Live At The Point’ was somewhere within earshot.
Well, that or Queen or Neil Diamond or Phil Coulter, but, maybe even unbeknownenst to the family, it was Christy who took me to my peaceful place. Yes, part of that was down to some of the great Kildare man’s material being a bit risque for someone my age.
“And then I dreamt I was in a jacuzzi with that auld whore in No. 10* and then I knew that I’d never, ever, ever, ever drink again! “. Capturing the mood of the nation. Just the same as Joxer Goes To Stuttgart “As one by one the fell asleep, Joxer had a dream, he dreamt himself and Jack Charlton sat down to pick the team.
Joxer dreamt they both agreed on Packie Bonner straight away, and that Moran, Whelan and McGrath were certainly to play. Ah, but tempers they began to rise, patience wearing thin. Jack wanted Cascarino, but Joxer wanted Quinn!
But the dream turned into a nightmare when Joxer stuck the head on Jack, who wanted to bring Johnny Giles and Eamon Dunphy back!
However, naturally, the humour of the nation is a two way street. Very understandably, when you consider things like The Troubles up north, the economic woes of the 1980s and how they, in turn, led to the country being decimated by emigration.
All of these life circumstances chronicled in numbers such as Ordinary Man, To The City Of Chicago and Back Home In Derry. But then there were the cases that never got the publicity they merited at the time they happened. Such as the imprisonment of people such as Nelson Mandella and Nicky Kelly, the plight of Dunnes Stores workers, or, most poignantly of all, the victims of the Stardust Tragedy on February 14th 1981.
I will admit that it’s only in the last 12 months that the full scale of the horrifying events in the Artane nightclub two months before I was airlifted into the world. Not to mention the lies, the cover-ups and the slanders families of the victims had to endure until a proper commission of inquiry was instigated and, earlier this year, it was legally recorded that the 48 who never came home were unlawfully killed.
More than that though, in virtually his first act as Taoiseach, Simon Harris delivered a State Apology to the families of the victims of the massacre that was close to 50 years in the making. And, for once, it wasn’t somebody playing politics with an issue, the words of An Taoiseach – and indeed all of the speakers in the Dail on the day were as sincere as they were emotional.
Yet Christy’s song was an anthem for all those connected to the tragedy at times when it must have felt like nobody cared. So it was a masterstroke by whomever came up with the idea of having him sing the poignant piece at the recently held commemoration.
What the families have – after a shamefully long time – received from the State in recent times must not be the end of the Stardust story. A person or people were responsible for the unlawful killing of those 48 young people and need to be held accountable as such. Surely there’s no statute of limitations on unlawful killing?
***
Christy is in his mid 70s now. Having started out as a bank clerk in 1963, like so many before and after him, three years thereafter, he crossed the water to begin his musical journey to being the phenom he remains six decades or so later.
However, being honest, all hope of ever seeing him of the sacred sweat perform in the flesh had been given up on until my better half again pulled a rabbit from a hat that was well hidden under the Christmas tree. Christy in the TLT in Drogheda on July 19th.
Two things to say straight off the bat – having been there previously, there were absolutely no worries regarding disability access, Tommy Leddy’s wonderful creation is one of the finest places visited anywhere on that score.
Secondly, how in the name of God did July 19th come around so damn quickly? Actually, there’s a third point needs making too – equally if not more important than the other two. In recent years, there’s been a lot of wild and whirling words about Christy being ‘narky’ and not letting people sing along and all this jazz, but, all I can say from personal experience, is don’t mind the bullsh** – treat yourself to a night with Christy!
Admittedly, the littany of emails from the venue in the lead up to the event would lead one to believe you were about to enter negotiations with the Kremlin, though it can only be assumed they are at the behest of either the TLT themselves or the promoters. Because the first words out of Christy’s mouth when he came out were “Will ye sing along with me? ” Would we what!
So began a raucous, sometimes hilarious, sometimes moving night. Where heroes were feted, tragedies commemorated, Spanish victories celebrated and poor American shooting berated. From a personal perspective, if there was one minor disappointment, it was not getting to meet the man himself in person, but, like a lot of unlikely ambitions, that won’t be given up on just yet by a long way.
Do yourself a favour, go witness the king of Irish music doing his thing while he still gives the privilege of doing so. Just remember one thing – don’t forget your shovel if you want to go to work!
* A certain auld tyrant who had far too much say in the world for far too long.
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