In reporting the story, there turned out to be a ton of
really rich material, from the raconteur Malachy McCourt—Black 47 front man
Larry Kirwan was in the house band at McCourt’s Bells of Hell bar many years
ago—to up and coming musicians who counted Black 47 as a serious influence, to
the band members themselves.
“Black 47 took Irish music out of the lachrymose ‘Tora
lora lora laddy’/‘Did Your Mother Come From Ireland?’,” McCourt told me, “and
gave it real soul.”
The band prominently features horns—not just a horn section,
spicing up a song at opportune moments--but trombone and various sax’s with driving
roles in the song. Geoff Blythe had been a founding member of Dexys Midnight
Runners before turning up with Black 47 at a festival out in Rockaway in 1990. The song arrangements had “all the
space in the world,” Blythe says. “They said, do what you like. It was a blank
slate.”
That kind
of creativity was absolutely key to the band surviving for so long. I mean,
name another New York band that’s stayed together, without hiatus, that long.
The band got
big, with a video on MTV and “Funky Ceili” on rock radio. They played some
stadiums. Paddy Reilly’s was reconfigured to make more room for Black 47 and
its fans. The bar shut down its kitchen and set up Black 47 in the vacated
space. Steve Duggan, longtime “man behind the bar” at Paddy Reilly’s, as he
puts it, says a record label called one day about a private party, and asked about
food. “I got a kitchen,” Duggan told them. “But the band plays in the kitchen.”
Black 47 never did break from the Irish pub scene
entirely. Over time, with higher NY rents and people seemingly less open minded
about hearing new music, the gigs thinned out.
Band members expressed no regret, saying it was
always about the music and the message, not fame and fortune. “I think the guys
have a bit of, what if?” says bassist Joe “Bearclaw” Burcaw, who joined in
2006. “Not regret. Just, what if?”
The decision to call it quits came following a
festival in Buffalo last year. There’s a new album, fittingly called “Last
Call”, full of songs about colorful characters, typically with Irish roots, in
NYC. There’s a second CD of its best political songs called “Rise Up.”
“The band has great momentum—it’s good to end it on
our own terms, on a high point,” says Joseph Mulvanerty, who replaced founding
member Chris Byrne on the uilleann pipes, bodhran and various other traditional instruments in
2000.
The guys will pursue side projects; Bearclaw will
play in a Hendrix tribute band, Blythe has his horn-fueled rock band GIBlythe.
Kirwan will perform solo occasionally and work on his plays. He’s president of
the Irish American Writers & Artists organization. Quips McCourt: “We’ll
find a way to impeach him.”
So what’s
Black 47’s legacy? It was Irish music, but it was so much more. With the
hip-hop and the punk, the reggae and the horns, it was New York Irish music. “It
was something you never heard before,” says Pete Ganbarg, who signed the band
to its deal at SBK Records in the early ‘90s. “The closest was the Pogues, but
those guys were over there—not over here.”
Mike
Farragher, Irish Voice music critic, said Black 47 made him appreciate the
traditional Irish that was on in his home growing up, and which he says he
despised as a kid growing up across the Hudson in Jersey City. “It was a
translation and interpretation of Irish and American cultures,” he says. “I
didn’t get the Clancy Brothers growing up. But I heard the reggae and hip-hop of
Black 47, went back to the Clancy Brothers--and I got it.”
Looking
forward to seeing the band tonight.
I wrote a little essay for "Book Life", which is part of Publishers Weekly, about the travails of self-publishing--particularly where second novels are concerned. You see, your friends get excited about your first novel, buying the thing and turning up at your readings. The local media in your neck of the woods deems it press-worthy too, Area Man Publishing a Novel and all.
