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Kansas City Irish Festivals, Music, Pubs, & Events by an Artist in Ireland

Once upon a time I went to a party in the Heart of England - which is much like here in the Heart of America, only, well, it’s English. It sounds like a joke, but I went with an Englishman, an Irishman, and a Welshman.

The other two hundred people at the party, a long way from home, were Scottish. I felt sorry for the Englishman. Half of the Scottish guys were named Bob, so they all had nicknames, which were just adjectives with Bob. Fat Bob, Tall Bob, Ugly Bob, Slim Bob (though I think his name was one word, or at least hyphenated), etc. and a bloke who was cooler than the rest, called Horrid Bob. Why he was Horrid was never apparent.

In that summer of 1990, it was also not apparent to me how the Saw Doctors were absolutely huge, given that they had zero credibility with the music press of Ireland and Britain, and with everyone I knew. OK, for any boy who has ever knealt in a church, the glory of her ass was undeniable, but did it warrant 60,000 people waving their arms in the air?

It hardly matters any more because longevity wins you respect in Ireland and Britain. The Saw Doctors today, pared down to Davy and Leo, and joined by everybody’s favourite ex-waterboy, the Thistlethwaite fella, and a couple of seasoned musicians, are still doing their thing. Slightly more mature, but still them, and now they have credibility.

At that party in England, only Scottish bands were played. We Irish didn’t even do that. Deacon Blue, Simple Minds, Big Country, The Proclaimers, and Del Amitri, were all very scary sung by that many expatriate Scottish people. Until they played Runrig.

It was terrifying. People scaled walls. They roared. They wept. Non-gaelic speakers sang fluently. English heads appeared aplenty. On sticks. It was like Lord of the Flies. I felt like the wild pig. An English pig at that. We left before the castle was stormed and the wicker man set ablaze. I felt sorry for the Englishman.

Celtic Music News #65 is all talk this week. Interviews mostly. After thirty years Runrig are playing the US. Live in New York City. As U2 are to Clannad, Runrig are to Capercaillie. Traditional/Folk Rock, it’s a big swirling sound. When it comes to bombast and pompousness, nobody is as funny as Bono, but Runrig aren’t far off.

Unfortunately CMN 65 in its excitement to talk to the greatest Celtic supergroup ever, doesn’t showcase the music well. Soundchecks and snippets is all you get, so don’t listen to his for an introduction. Nope, listen to this because the manager is fantastically dour and even his story of the night they played Berlin when the wall came down, is matter-of-factly reported.

The most significant moment in the show is Calum actually soliciting to play festivals in North America! For 30 years now Runrig have been the ultimate celtic festival act, with soaring pipes and accordions, big big rock sound, and gaelic singing to boot. Throw in words like spiritual and you have every reason to wave thousands of arms in the air. They could even be severed English arms.

If it’s music you want instead of talk, go back to the tailenders of CMN #63 to kill people, or CMN #64 to commit depraved acts with icebergs.

This entry was posted on Wednesday, April 12th, 2006 at 5:33 am and is filed under Bono & U2, Capercaillie, Clannad-Enya, England, Nostalgia, Reviews, Runrig, Saw Doctors, Scotland, Waterboys. You can follow responses via my RSS 2.0 feed. Both comments and pings are currently closed.