Stuck-in-Reverse_1jan2025

This is a repeat of a special program called "Stuck in Reverse" that explores the evolution of music and dance from the 1930s to the 1960s. It pays tribute to band members who have passed away. The program focuses on three local bands and their memories of playing music during that time. The introduction of the Public Dance Halls Act in 1935 marked the end of country house dances and led to the building of parish halls. The Pavilion Ballroom in Letterfrack was opened in 1942 and served as a popular dance hall. The program also discusses the changes in dance music from traditional ceilidh to modern dance influenced by recordings from England and the United States. One member of the Kingstown band shares his experience of joining the band and how they transitioned from ceilidh music to modern dance music. for the next two hours we are bringing you a repeat of a very special program stuck in reverse first broadcast in 2018 stuck in reverse is jointly produced and presented by my kind of music and lift the latch the program is a window into the evolution of music and dance from the country house dances of the 1930s and before to the show bands the music and the dance halls of the 1950s and 1960s sadly more of the band members have passed away since the making of this program we would like to remember them tonight we hope you enjoy this lovely program tonight we invite our listeners to join us for a night of nostalgia music and memories as we rewind the clock back to the golden era of musical songs of the 50s and 60s we will relive the memories of members of three local bands over the period the kingstone mystic aces and the blue notes each band was on the road for at least 10 years with a total of 33 musicians involved 17 band members have since passed on and we remember them especially tonight we hope you enjoy the music the songs and the memories so 1935 was a watershed year in the traditional music song and dance of rural ireland because in that year the irish government introduced the public dance halls act signaling the end of the country house dances which were an integral part of the social fabric of rural life in ireland for centuries the end of the country house dances was quickly followed by a boom in the building of parish halls throughout the country particularly after the introduction of rural electrification renowned county clerk fiddle player junior critton writing in the dalgash magazine in 1977 laments the passing of the country house dance so all in all it was a lonely time for anyone interested in the music and all that it meant there was a silence everywhere and markham's cross of the sunday was a deserted place with only memories of the music and dancing that at one time filled it it was this loneliness that i felt most of all there was no one to swap tunes with very few to talk about music and the flag flowers were silent in corners in attics and on shelves fiddlers and flutes lay gathering spiders and cobwebs there was no heart to play and i remember finding it a struggle to take down the fiddle and play a few tunes to oblige a neighbor there seemed to be no point in this silence the music was slipping away in spite of us so in 1941 Eulick Joyce senior bought the old basket factory in letter frack and the following year 1942 re-erected it as a dance hall officially named the pavilion ballroom it was better known locally as Eulick's Eulick jr tells us about those early years what year did the pavilion ballroom in letter frack open i think was 41 or 42 probably 42 would have been yeah and and you know when you applied for a license was it difficult yes it was yes it was very difficult because there's a lot of rules and regulations that had come in you had to have all fire extinguishers and toilets all these things had to be operated well i never remember the name of toilets in the pavilion ballroom in letter frack maybe i was looking in the wrong place yes i think so oh yes and also a ladies toilet yeah so we were having an inspection and there was only one toilet in the hall so we had to get a second toilet so he was doing a job in the church in letter frack he stepped into your sky and this swept the toilet and cistern out of the church and brought it down to the hall for the inspection and it's patched in flying colors i was back again that evening in the church back again that evening in the church i heard you say once there was a mineral barrel oh yes there was pierce used to run the mineral there for years as a big galvanized and that used to be half in a water and he used to get a half a dozen bottles of orange orange lemonade and different types it was all mixed together and there was a big jug it was all mixed up and a big jug i forget what they had on i think it was cups they had for handing out i think it was cups they obviously didn't leave the bath oh no that was back on and how did you manage the lights because there was no electrification at the time and this is a small generator he called it an iron horse and that provided all the electricity for the hall and then that used to seize up at times and get overheated and the place would go in darkness so there was a few candles and things until they got got it back on track again but it kept the whole place alive the lights go off and at the beginning would it to the end of the country house down south would it have been Ceilidh and Aldwych mainly at that stage mostly all Ceilidh and a few waters but mostly all Ceilidh it was Patrick Toole and John O'Toole back here Terry Warch and Jimmy Mullen and then there was Mr. Michael Canavan from Wimfyre and they provided the music and you were saying one time your father used to have to pick them up oh yes he used to have to go around and pick them up and whichever ones were playing at that night he had to go around they had no transport so he used to go drive around and pick them up that's been done for years and years Joe King and his brother Frank from Kingstown bought their first accordion from Cots of Kilcock in December 1949 delivered to the CIE depot in Clifton on Christmas Eve it was transported home to Kingstown tied to the carrier of the bike following a period of intense practice and rehearsal the Kingstown Ceilidh band was launched at a dance in the town hall Clifton in 1951 my uncle used to call they used to have parties you know when we were kids Michael Canavan would come in and with Jim Kane and Jim would do a few steps he would do a lot as well yeah and Mick Fitts used to come with Michael Canavan as a yeah for the country dances and you know I was more young yeah and you spent a while out with Michael Canavan yeah I spent a week he was building on a porch and I was helping him out and he he'd done the accordion in the evening you know and he taught me a few tunes that gave me the taste so I went home I decided well he encouraged me anyway yeah to buy an accordion I hadn't any at the time so I sent a deposit to Cots of Kilcock a pound deposit that time and there's an airport just after that so it's arrived and you know at the station in Clifton on a Christmas Eve I think it'd be 1949 you know there was the CIE head of depot there where the station house is now so we collected it Frank and myself and one ran the carrier on the bike and of course we spent the night you know fighting over swapping from one to the other so that was the beginning yes and then Jimmy Mullen was in England for a period he was and he came back he came back and he well Jimmy was playing for a long time you know yeah Jimmy and Terry Roach and Paddy Roach they they used to play for all the concert dances that time yes but Jimmy encouraged us as well and he organised the dance then in Clifton and that was the first time we got together the first time we played for in the town hall yeah and we had Terry Roach, Paddy Roach, Jimmy Mullen, Michael Canavan, Frank and myself what did Terry Roach play what instrument? They played the fiddles yeah yeah three fiddles and two accordions and a tenor so it was a ceilidh band ceilidh band yeah and then I suppose there was a lull in between then like you know we we kept practicing and Jimmy encouraged us Paddy Paddy Roach I think then went back to England Michael Canavan went to England that's right so we we kept practicing and then well we decided Jimmy encouraged us we decided to form a band of our own you know yeah and at that stage were you playing just traditional music yeah yeah ceilidh in old time yes so with Radio Luxembourg on the air and rural electrification lighting up rural Ireland new dance halls sprung up in the 1950s and dance music changed from ceilidh and old time to modern dance music greatly influenced by recordings from England and the United States Speaking of Paddy Joyce and Paddy is a member of the Kingstown band from about 1952 to 55 was it Paddy? 55 yes yeah March 55 actually. How did you become involved with the lads? Oh right I don't know how long I was staying in their house I was indeed in their house in the King's in the King's yes in 1952 it had to be sometime in the autumn of 1952 so the band was going strong already you know we used to practice in the house and so on but at that time they were a ceilidh band and they were they wanted to to play the what they call the modern dance music as well but there was a difficulty with the rhythms the tempos and so on you know the the chap who was drumming at the time and I can't think of his name was excellent at drumming for ceilidh music but he didn't know some of those rhythms I had been dancing for a while I had sent me apprenticeship alone in Dublin so I knew what a foxtrot was and so on I knew those rhythms and I began to pick them out on the drums for them you know so I think for a while at the other leg I just drummed for the ceilidh music and I did the modern I drummed for the modern music and so on you know yeah that's that's how I started and then you you you moved on to saxophone that's right yes yes now Frank was good at the sex at that stage and yeah as you probably know two sexes is so much better than one you know if you can get a little bit happy and whatever going so Tony Chambers down in Newport I think he was from had one or two sexes for ceilidh and we went down and made a deal with him and we finished up with two saxophones and I began to learn learning from Frank actually you know Frank was a brilliant musician himself that's right still is still is of course he's a DJ I haven't seen him in a long time I'll have to rectify that very well we'll rectify it for you not before too long it's too bad you weren't here for the reunion there a couple of weeks ago yes I heard about that I really missed that yes there'll be another one now Paddy I'm sure you had you had many excursions with the band and adventures does anything spring to mind yes quite a few things actually I think that um almost any night that we weren't playing we we went we didn't stay at home anyway that's for sure we moved out out to one or other of them the watering holes around the area um there was one night and I can just read this and um it had got fairly late at this stage uh the the house was owned by the mother of the queen the the reigning queen of Connemara at the time yeah but I do remember about it was that we could see the queen was there she was a young girl her mother was there and her grandmother was there but uh we were taken into the kitchen must have been after hours and Frank was sitting with his back to the chimney breast I was sitting facing Frank somewhere it had to be because I noticed somewhere around me I don't know what hour of the morning Frank was staring up at the wall opposite and he went as white as a sheet so anyway I looked around and there was a little opening like a little window high up on that wall and I could see this a little old woman looking straight down Frank and really she had to be the oldest little woman that I've ever seen in my life we got out fairly fast um in those 50s there were certain nights of the year and I remember that the country crowd came in to the hall on St Stephen's night St Patrick's night there were four or five the race night and he had in the Clifton town hall a certain night and gradually the scene changed from mostly ceilidh to mostly modern the modern well we we sort of saw the demand for the modern you know the modern tunes that's and that's why we changed really from that you remember Jim that's when we decided we'd have to give a second one well you wouldn't you wouldn't get as many engagements without being able to play both well it was a great attempt to that to be able to have both yeah and that helped you know we were doing five nights a week that time you know yeah that was good you were talking about the the change over from the ceilidh to the I can't keep this one out to the modern you see and one day she was coming from we were coming from my cousin or someplace no I forget where it was now he said Paddy he said Frank was off to buy the saxophone up there the second sax yeah and he said he said the ceilidh basically got out now he said and there's much much time for fiddling music anymore you better bring saxes Frank's sax home with you and see if you can do anything with it that's how I was introduced to the sax first I remember that I don't remember that he said Kayleigh's on the way out he said no Frank's other saxes at your home and that was the first sax I started I was so with the change in dance music the pavilion ballroom in Letterfrack was also forced to change and so the Emerald Dance Band was formed by the Joyce and Cummins families in Letterfrack after a number of successful years together the Cummins brothers Sean and Michal decided to form a new band the Blue Notes. Bunny Joyce drafted in Sister Mary, Brother Ulrich, neighbour Benny Conboy on guitar and Patrick O'Toole on accordion to form the new Emerald Dance Band and then the Emerald Band was formed. These guys then had an old drummer and there was a chap back here called Kevin Conroy and he used to play that piano accordion and Bunny got an old set of drums and they got going and they were bringing in another quick step or two and the Emerald Band that was the start of the Emerald Band and you got Michal, Michal Cummins and Sean and Patrick O'Toole that was the Emerald Band for years 10 years I think Michal and Sean then started up their own band so Mary and I were drafted in. Benny Conboy was he? Oh yes, Benny was on it. Why? Because Benny's dead. Patrick O'Toole was on it as well. Oh yeah, well Patrick was on it. Patrick John R, the traditional. So that was the new Emerald Band. Come over the hill, my funny Irish loves, come over the hill to your darling, you choose the rose love and I'll make the vow and I'll be your true love forever. Red is the rose that young girls love and fair is the lily of the valley, clear is the water that flows from the fountain. But my love is fair. My memories are nothing but good. It was just, we had a fantastic era of the best music and the best fun and the best halls in our day. I mean people now wouldn't regard them as classic ballrooms but what we had was just fabulous. And we had such an array and such a choice of music. I mean coming into the 60s when I started going out in the middle 60s and that, at that time country and western music was just starting to come in. But we already had the fantastic traditional bands, local bands. We had the Kingstown band that played mostly ceilidh but a mix as well of modern as well. We had the Sean O'Toole's Ceilidh band in Clattertuff and we danced to them. So we danced our shoes off and our feet off and everything at the time and it was just absolutely brilliant. And what about the bands from Letterfrack now, did you dance to those? Oh of course Helen, we did. Martin and myself, we danced everywhere there was a band playing. We just went, we used to go to about four dances a week. From different, we went to, well I just mentioned the two Ceilidh bands that started off the music, the local music scene. But then of course they graduated, some of them graduated on into the Misty Gates and the late Bonnie Joyce's fantastic band. And the Blue Notes, the late Michael Commins and some of their members you know. And we danced in Clifton, Letterfrack, Tolley, Valley Cornelia, Roundstone. And there was even a sort of a makeshift hall in Recess that we went to once or twice as well. And I mean, you know, we just went everywhere. And before, when I started dancing first, I didn't have a car, we didn't have a car. And Bonnie used to come back, pick up Frank King, the late Frank King. I mean, it's so hard to talk about them all as the Misty Gate people, because the memories we have of them are so fond, you know. But they'd come back, and they used to give myself and Angela Berry from Kingstown, they'd say, Bonnie, give us a lift to wherever they were going to play, you know. And he'd pick up Frank, of course, he'd be waiting about half an hour on the road for poor Frank. He was never in a hurry, you know. And he'd bring us to wherever they were playing, and the dances were only just fabulous, you know. And I tell my children, and you know, I tell them that I feel sorry for them, and we were so lucky to have been brought up in the age that we did, and the music that we had that still lives on, and you know, they love it. That's right. You know, they listen to, as well as listening to like the national, international music and that, they would listen to the music on local radio, play it by, as you have done on all different programs and that, and they say, you know, we were so lucky to have had such talented musicians in the area at the time. Remember, a quick tribute to the late Bonnie Joyce, who was just so, so good to us, and so kind, you know, so kind with lifts and everything else. They will always be remembered, as long as any of the 60s, 70s generation is alive and well, we all have cherished memories of them all. Bad roads, unreliable cars and vans, and the transport of band members, together with instruments and amplification, often provided challenges which demanded imaginative solutions from band members. A raw potato was always part of the repair kit in case of frost on the windscreen, and a lady's nylon stocking was a godsend if the fan belt gave up. The fact that we got stuck in gear, in reverse gear, or turn-off, as you would call it. That had to be in the early 50s. It was, I think. It was at the beginning, because you remember the first carrier you got was a baby Ford, and that carrier converted to the van. That was the carrier. Oh yeah. And you must know how big it was, to take all the stuff, because we had the stands and we had everything. We didn't have any room to fit in the boat. We couldn't leave it anyway, you know, that man put all the instruments in reverse. But they all failed at Little Frank anyway, to pull the cartridge out of reverse gear, and you said, we can't leave her. And off, home, in reverse. Did you feel that today? We kept going anyway, because she stayed out of the boiling coming up as we were leaving. I'm quite strong, that's the way it is. When you're flattened up there, you said, lad, come walkin'. Come Westerland Road. So I was the type of a fella that couldn't let a thing go soft, because I wasn't going to walk at home if I could do anything. I don't think I was a driver nowadays, I was not. I'd say you were capable though. Well, I may be. But the lads were all moving on, and it was unlocked as well, and there was valuable stuff there. And we didn't know what to do, but we had to leave it. So he was moving off, and I walked back for myself, and I said, I'll have her go at the stair to see if I could do something. No, I don't think I knew much about gears anyway. So I sat in, I left one leg outside, a foot on the floor, on the road, but so it was nearly daylight. I think it was, Frank. You remember? Probably, yeah. Actually, the dancers went on at three o'clock. Oh yeah, three o'clock. Ninety-three, yes. But anyways, I said, it's just now locked, and if I could do something that will jump out of that, we might be able to get home. Because that was the last thought that was in my head, that we'd walk off. I said, we could do something. So I walked and moved and done this, and all of a sudden, the gear stick moved. And I shouted at Joe, I said, come back, I said. Something happened. The rock and roll has started. You want the rock and roll? The cookies have begun, and the rock and roll. It's where we've been. Come on, Frank. But Joe came back anyways, and he sat in. Our big daddy said, we have second gear. Second gear. I know what happened post. And I don't think you looked for anything else either. You were glad you got second on the verse. Because you were afraid to look for any more, that you might go back again. Oh yeah. I wasn't there that night. No, you wouldn't be there that night. So that brought us home. I got a lot of shake-hands that night. A lot. Oh, I did. I was famous. I'm coming back to you In the sweetheart of the company With your bonnie eyes of blue Once again I'll say I love you And I've heard you sing all the day There's a train coming in the Rockies In the Rockies far away John Ryan from Clifton remembers joining the Blue Notes as a bass guitarist. Over the following ten years, he travelled to many dance halls along the West Coast and remembers North Mayo in particular. John, how did you come to join the Blue Notes? Well, I think it was about 1964. I was walking in town. My father had a small little shop in town. Ryan's Hardware. And my father used to come in maybe two or three times a week in his taxi. And he'd always, of course, he'd make a stop at the bus office because that was the usual stop for people to go in and get pensions or whatever it was. And I used to pop out to see him and have a chat with him because he always had a nice car and I was always interested in cars myself. So I was sitting with him and he said, Would you care to join the band, John? I said, I wouldn't mind at all. And I said, what sort of musicians do you need? He said, we need a bass player. I said, I have no clue about bass. He said, no, that doesn't matter. We'll pick it up as we go along. And that's exactly what we've done. We might have had a few nice practices, but that never materialised. So that's the way it is. We just picked it up as we went along. Sean Cummins was probably the top musician in the band. And Sean was the one that showed me where the chords were. And it was easy enough with the bass anyway. It was just one string at a time. I never got that good at it anyway, no matter what. We filled in a bit. But that was when I started with the Blue Nose. We had some great times. I was with them for about 10 or 11 years after I got married that time. Marriage and travelling around the country just doesn't go together. I think it wrecked a lot of bands. It might have wrecked a lot of marriages. No, there were great times. There was never an argument. There was never a disagreement over anything. We were prone to make a few mistakes, hit the wrong chord and this sort of thing. No remarks passed. But the craic was mighty in the bandwagon. Sean had the big Zephyr Zodiac for a while. He was pulling a trailer with all the gear in it. We travelled down to North Mayo, which was a favourite haunt. All the different places down there. I remember them well. Gisela, Dahoma, Dennymoy, Bellmothers. Marvellous people down there. I close my eyes and picture the emerald out of sea From the fishing boat, it's a single And a show on the smart television I miss the river shallows And the folks at Skiddery The moorlands in the middle And the floating trees at the end But most of all, I miss the girls From Chippewa, weary town But most of all, I miss her lips The soft light of her gown But dear, I want to see Those things we didn't see But when the breezes swish along There's quite a change in me Michael O'Neill, Denny's young teacher, was invited to join the Emerald Dance Band as a bass guitar player in 1962 and made his first appearance with the band in the parochial hall, Lewsburg. He later became manager of the band and set about introducing a few changes. Now, Michael, when did you join the band, the Emerald, and had you ever played in a band before? No, I hadn't. I hadn't ever played in a band before. And I joined in 1962. And our first dance, after I joined, was down at the parochial hall in Lewsburg. Now, for your first, this was your first outing with the band, how did you project yourselves that evening, that first evening? Were you nervous? We'd never heard the word project at that stage. There was very little projection. What struck me about it was, and I used to go to a lot of dances in Dublin when I was in training, and I was there from 1959 to 1961, which was probably the peak time of rock and roll and show bands. That's when they were all really flying. And I'd seen an awful lot of them. So the thing that struck me about the band that night was that, well, first of all, everybody was sitting down, which was a bad sign, I thought. Yes, not orchestra-like. Well, you know, all the show bands now were standing and jumping around the stage and everything else, so I didn't expect any jumping, but at least standing, maybe. I realise. And the other thing was that, oh yes, there was a music stand in front of everybody, which you only need a music stand, you see, if you have sheet music in front of you and you're sitting down and you're reading as you're going along. Well, we were all able to read, but not music, most of us, anyway. And the other thing was that, oh yes, everybody was just playing in their normal Monday to Friday clothes, or maybe Sunday go to rest clothes, I don't know which, but there was no special jacket or suit or anything. So I thought it looked a bit drab at the time. Yes. So did you think that things might have to change, in that you knew everything that was being known about you? I thought I did. I thought I did. But nowhere rehearsed, maybe about a week after that, and it kind of turned into a meeting. And we discussed some of the things that I'm talking about now. The first thing was we decided everybody would be standing in future, except for the drummer and the keyboard player. And then we decided we were going to get rid of the music stands, because there was no need for them. There was no music, there was nothing on them. They were just in the way. I watched. If you were sitting behind them, nobody could probably see you from down the floor. And the other thing was, oh yes, we decided we needed some kind of jacket or something to distinguish us. So Bonnie came up with the idea that Frank Gorham, God rest him, he was a tailor here in the industrial school in Letterfrack, and he was from Dorland and Roundstone, originally. Lovely man. And Bonnie was going to approach Frank to see if he would make a jacket for us. And Bonnie was dispatched to Glyfton with a measuring tape and a scissors, out to Stanley's. And he arrived back in with a big roll of red velvet, which was handed over to Frank Gorham. And within a few weeks, Frank had six lovely jackets made for us. Now we had to go up to get our measurements taken, of course, to Letterfrack. But Frank knocked out the six jackets anyway, I'm sure. They were wonderful. And the other thing we decided to do then was we wanted to change the name of the band, because we felt the Emerald Dance Band, they were all show bands then, so we changed it to the Misty Geese Show Band. And with our new jackets and everything, we couldn't wait to get on stage. I'm just a man Help me believe in what I could be And all that I am Show me the stairway I have to climb Learn for my sake Teach me to take One day at a time One day at a time Sweet Jesus That's all I'm asking from you Just give me the strength to do every day What I have to do Yesterday's sun Sweet Jesus And tomorrow may never be mine Lord, trust me today Show me the way One day at a time When we were youngsters, when we were all neat and in the crossroads, there was Scwab and Lacey and Paddy McCann and Dickie and others. We used to pitch and toss, you know what I'm saying? And we'd hear the motorbike coming, Patrick coming down the argo. On the Honda 50. And the accordion sat in behind. And we were fascinated. He had a red velvet jacket. Do you remember the time you had the red velvet? He insisted on having the jacket on until he left the house. He didn't say the no, no, and yes, but the red velvet. Well, you said I had Patrick. We were in Lewesburg last night. We'd been out before in Mulraney. And tonight we're hitting for Corn Donagh. But he had a great sense on Corn Donagh. So it's always Corn Donagh, mother of God. Conocera, senorina, conocera When it's time to say goodnight to Napoli When it's time for me to whisper conocera With that old moon above the Mediterranean Sea In the morning, senorita, we go walking Where the long trees and the sea comes into view I love little sugar shops, the stuff that lingers Just to buy a wedding ring for your finger In the meantime, baby, can you tell I love you Conocera, senorina, kiss me goodnight Conocera, senorina, conocera When it's time to say goodnight to Napoli When it's time for me to whisper conocera With that old moon above the Mediterranean Sea In the morning, senorita, we go walking Conocera, senorina, conocera When it's time to say goodnight to Napoli When it's time for me to whisper conocera With that old moon above the Mediterranean Sea In the morning, senorita, we go walking Where the long trees and the sea comes into view I love little sugar shops, the stuff that lingers Just to buy a wedding ring for your finger In the meantime, baby, can you tell I love you Conocera, senorina, conocera In the meantime, baby, can you tell I love you Conocera, senorina, kiss me goodnight Conocera, senorina, kiss me goodnight Conocera, senorina, kiss me goodnight They were great days. They were such happy days. They were great fun. But, you know, things changed. And of course, out of all of them, Tony was my favourite. I just adored that man and I was so, so sad when he passed away there for Christmas because in the early days he was my entertainment and in the latter years he was the man who fixed my Central Easing. Central Easing. And that's when you'd ask him. And I believe probably about a week before he died I had a problem and I knew he wasn't fit to do it but he talked me through what was happening from his sick bed and I will never forget that. So, but that's it. I had a great time. I really loved it. I loved to drive. I loved to walk. I was working in Renby and of course I was given access to the hotel car so I could have maybe 15, 16 in the car going to the dances in Eulachs. Pile them all in and then try to collect them on the way home to get them to go home. It could be three or four o'clock and you'd still be missing one or two. But we had fun. So, they were great days. It was sad to see the disco coming in and the show bands moving on. But it's nice to see that today now that the driving and the bands are back again there's so many fabulous young bands out there and it's nice but our own lads were great. They were. All of the bands had their trials and tribulations with punctures and breakdowns but none stranger than the Kingstown Band when playing for a dance in Roundstone two of its members were summoned to appear in court in Tifton for drinking tea after hours. Well, I have a witness with me here. Come on. We were playing in Roundstone. No, that's right. And, you see, we had to go for tea but the crowd was so big. I don't know, was it the switch-on night, the ESB? It was packed anyways. I forget to check now. And we all couldn't go together so we left three members and and you and I said we'd do it when we come back on our own. Straight away. We went to the hotel anyways and we had no drink. We were waiting for the tea and in came a policeman and he told us to count for ourselves because that was twelve o'clock. So we gave our names and members of the band and came for tea. So he jotted it all down and he went away. So a couple of weeks afterwards we were summoned to the court for drinking tea after twelve o'clock and we were fine tin barbie. Frank, is that correct? Sweet tea. Yes. But I'll never forget her for she is my pretty love of mine The land of the blind won't turn my way They say that your hands hold it fine For the same stars above I'll never forget her for she is my pretty love of mine Yeah, we had some great nights, alright. Well, the hunting ground for the Blues was down north. We all kissed at it. The home of Denimoy, Bell Mullet, all that area, you know. But there's a different type of culture down there, if you like to call it that. But there was a great number of people. Ah yes, and a lot of private halls. Private halls. There was a Mr Garvin's home I remember and he had a pub there and a dance hall. And they were nearly all two o'clock dances. And the people would stay in the hall after the dance was over. We'd pack up the gear and we'd have a cup of tea and maybe a few of the Pagoda sandwiches. You know the ones that are turned up at the end. The hang sandwiches. And you'd be heading home at around three o'clock and no one would have left the hall. It was amazing. There was one night I remember Ward came back that there was a squad car down the road waiting to check everyone. Want the bicycles, the tax insurance, all this sort of thing. So Ward got back to the hall anyway about this squad car. So I said to the people in the hall, should we wait anyway? We're not in a hurry. So we headed off anyway, probably around three o'clock. It was probably about a month after that we were playing in the same place again. And I was asking the owner of the hall, I said, were there many people caught now for tax insurance the last day? Oh he said there was none of them caught. And he said, the waiters he says, the waiters he says, until the girls were gone. I said, what time was that? Well that was nine o'clock actually. Next morning, nine o'clock, nobody got caught. They all stayed in the hall. But they were very laid back people. There was one hall down there under John, in Octeam. Right out, black scarves. Right out from the very edge. That could have been the place now where we were, where there was only one road out. It was a beautiful, big, big hall. And the thing I always remember about it is they did a hot meal. It was one of the few places you'd ever get a hot meal. So they always let us in. Oh that's right, yeah. Or rather it was Corsica Ham, just like that. In-place ham. Oh yeah. We had to pay more money for that. Just eat through ham, yeah. Right. Is it safe In the heat of a night Is it safe In your head In your head Are you going away With no words left in them To the deep blue streets I could love you better With no words left in them To the deep blue streets As I rise in my bed in the morning Without you, without you As I rise in my bed in the morning Without you, without you Are you going away With no words left in them To the deep blue streets I could love you better With no words left in them Are you going away With no words left in them So they had a great night And Quigley was sitting in his Just couldn't hear Near a studio He surveyed and on the ground If there was anyone That had any inclination of singing Or that they were Brought to the stage immediately And that was the start Like my story One of my characters You kept I didn't have a great variety The same three or four But had congealed right on Marcia would tell you To a few months before I died There was that bit of jazz Yes, I loved jazz But there was another night You were at that Oh yes The bar was where the kitchen is now And Johnny Flynn from Tune Who was a really great band At the time And we were all in there And they were Let's put it this way They were all a bit fond of the gargle And it was a great night out And Frankie Hannon was the drummer And I was talking to him And when we went to class He gave me Two and a fifteen minutes On the drums And there was I can add the Kay Owens brother And he never had a drink And there's Johnny Flynn And they were all Giving him rum and black And rum and black And you know what rum and black And two white shirts Gave the game away And everyone Hit the bed on this The rum and black Would always give the game away But a person that Girl, Mike Landry When he hit the air He got enchanted in the room As you go in And Howard Churchill And John James And Eddie Hughes And all their work Were very concerned So PJ of course Got him into the Chair And would say He looked really bad And really sick And he was And PJ brought him home And Owen wasn't drinking at the time And when PJ Deposed Deposited Mike Landry Owen hired him to come over And kill everyone In Johnny Flynn's club And one after the other For giving him rum and black You, you, you I'm in love with you You, you What would be so true True, true To someone like you You Do, do, do What you ought to do Do, do Take me in your arms Please do It went to you We were meant for each other A few heavens above We were meant for each other To have, to hold and to love You, you, you There's no one like you You You could make my dreams come true If you say you love me too You, you, you One more time We were meant for each other A few heavens above We were meant for each other To have, to hold and to love You, you, you There's no one like you You You could make my dreams come true If you say you love me too If you say you love me too Brian has toured all over the world and is still active in the music scene in London Well, I was, you know, young, like, but That's right I don't know when you think you know everything, but but then when it came down to it, I realised that I'd never sat behind a kit of drums, really, you know Yeah And it was a whole different eye-opener, really, you know So, and then, when I did get to sit behind a kit of drums Bonnie and Ulrich were up on the stage with me and you were standing down the back of the hall listening and, well, that didn't help either as you could imagine But yeah, I, I somehow, I managed to bluff my way through it anyway Oh God, there was no bluffing, you were And, but then I, I, I struck lucky because I think you or Bonnie or whoever said, or Ulrich said, you know that if I took the kit of drums home with me I could get to work on that like I did But then I, of course, the other thing was being left-handed and left-footed I didn't realise that that you could change everything over, you know Yeah So I was playing right-handed and right-footed for a while until I realised that it was much easier the other way, so Yeah But yeah, it was, you know, it was great It was, well, I suppose like knowing that Dominic Loughran, you know, was there beforehand and that was also a bit of, because Dominic was, you know, very good He was, yeah And, and I used to try and get to see him, you know, if I could I mean, he didn't know me, like, but I We used to stand in Tolly Cross listening to the band, you know On a quiet night you could hear the band, you know, from Letterfrack on a quiet evening And then we'd eventually get up to Letterfrack and we wouldn't be let in, obviously, but we'd stand outside listening, you know Yeah And then, you know, that made me more wanting to get into it So I somehow managed to do that I can't remember how I actually got into the Letterfrack dance halls to begin with I had no idea To get to see Bunny and Ulrich and you I can't remember that part of it But you had a few unusual experiences with the band as well Oh Particularly about the new suits Oh, that, I mean, that was one of them, yeah We all had arranged to get new suits And I think we went to Galway to have sit-ins That's right And all that stuff on a few occasions And I went with you, like, obviously And all excitement about the new band suits And they were lovely So we were heading to Clear, I think The first time we got the suits That was the first outing for the suits Yeah And I went to Clegg Inn with you in the morning time And we were to meet up with Bunny and Ulrich and Frank King I'm not sure if Tommy Scudam was in it at that time I think he might have been He could have been, I can't remember And we got to Bunny's, to the pub And no sign of Bunny or Ulrich And you went in and asked where the lads were And they said you were kind of worried about the time situation And all that, you know I didn't expect any breakdowns Anyway, somebody said, oh, Bunny and Ulrich will be back very shortly They've gone up to the bog to pull somebody out of the bog Somebody had got stuck in it or something So, on the tractor So you were pacing around a bit And I didn't know you that well But I was watching you Next thing, Bunny and Ulrich ride back on the tractor And the two band suits on them So there's the two band suits on And they've gone to the bog in the morning And looking at you like I knew you weren't happy, you know Your face was grey like And you said something like Bunny just laughed at you like And said, oh, sure, don't worry about it It was quite funny, you know what I mean I thought to myself, God, you didn't look happy at all Do you want to repeat what I said? I couldn't repeat, I don't think I could repeat In Chicago With a broken heart and a woman on the mind So there's a man behind the bar To say that you're fine And the music takes you back to Tennessee When they ask who's who And the part I'm crying, I said It'll always be me Emigration in the 1950s and 60s was a huge problem for small bands in rural Ireland who could not afford to pay their members a living wage It takes time to get a band playing well together and if a few members were forced to emigrate, it was always a major setback John Robert O'Toole covered all of the Johnny Cash and Hank Williams numbers on the Misty Gazes and Tommy Scullyan was a fine lead and steel guitar player When both had to emigrate, they were sorely missed Hello, I'm Johnny Cash I hear the train a-comin' It's rollin' round the bend And I ain't seen the sunshine since I don't know when I'm stuck in Folsom Prison And time keeps draggin' on But that train keeps a-rollin' On down to San Antone When I was just a baby My mama told me, son Always be a good boy Don't ever play with guns But I shot a man in Reno Just to watch him die When I hear that whistle blowin' I hang my head and cry When I hear that whistle blowin' I hang my head and cry When I hear that whistle blowin' I hang my head and cry When I hear that whistle blowin' I hang my head and cry When I hear that whistle blowin' I hang my head and cry When I hear that whistle blowin' I hang my head and cry When I hear that whistle blowin' I hang my head and cry When I hear that whistle blowin' I hang my head and cry When I hear that whistle blowin' I hang my head and cry When I hear that whistle blowin' I hang my head and cry When I hear that whistle blowin' I hang my head and cry When I hear that whistle blowin' I hang my head and cry When I hear that whistle blowin' I hang my head and cry When I hear that whistle blowin' I hang my head and cry When I hear that whistle blowin' I hang my head and cry When I hear that whistle blowin' I hang my head and cry When I hear that whistle blowin' I hang my head and cry When I hear that whistle blowin' I hang my head and cry When I hear that whistle blowin' I hang my head and cry When I hear that whistle blowin' I hang my head and cry When I hear that whistle blowin' I hang my head and cry When I hear that whistle blowin' I hang my head and cry When I hear that whistle blowin' I hang my head and cry When I hear that whistle blowin' I hang my head and cry When I hear that whistle blowin' I hang my head and cry When I hear that whistle blowin' I hang my head and cry When I hear that whistle blowin' I hang my head and cry When I hear that whistle blowin' I hang my head and cry When I hear that whistle blowin' I hang my head and cry When I hear that whistle blowin' I hang my head and cry When I hear that whistle blowin' I hang my head and cry When I hear that whistle blowin' I hang my head and cry When I hear that whistle blowin' I hang my head and cry When I hear that whistle blowin' I hang my head and cry When I hear that whistle blowin' I hang my head and cry When I hear that whistle blowin' I hang my head and cry When I hear that whistle blowin' I hang my head and cry Well, the first effort I made of playing the guitar, I mean, when I was, like, from the age of 12, 13, 14, I was always going back to the hall, Bunny Joy used to be playing in it, or whatever bands were playing in it, and it was inevitable that I'd have to try and play something. I was a drummer with a marching band in Clifton, so I had a bit of music, and there was music in my family, on my mother's side and my father's side, and I was a man about music, and we used to sneak into the hall because there was a priest who wouldn't allow us in because we were too young, and I made the first guitar, would you believe, out of a tea chest myself, and, well, where would you get one? And my father's fishing goat I put into it, and then, a few months after that, John Ryan was selling an old acoustic guitar, and I bought it off him, and I started with that. And when I'd go into the hall, I'd have to leave early and I'd have to come in about half eleven, and I'd go home, and I'd pick up the guitar and be trying to do what the bands were doing, this acoustic guitar. Frank King or someone got it, and John Ryan tuned it up for me, and my father often got up and he said, in the name of God, you have the whole house kept awake with that joke, thrown in the kitchen. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . When I was 18, I decided to go to England, which was 50 years ago last January, two weeks after Christmas I left for England. I was in London first, and I didn't have any guitar or anything with me. And I moved out to Luton then, and I was . . . My father had a flat near the Town Centre, he was working over in England, and I was playing the guitar during the middle of the day one day, I was sick and I hadn't gone to work. And there was a man downstairs who played the accordion, and he had a band that used to play in the Harp Club. His name was Sean McLachlan, I'll never forget him, God rest him. And he came to the bottom of the stair and he shouted up, Hello. He said, I'm looking for a guitar player. He didn't say guitar, he said guitar. And I said, Jesus, I dread not, would I be any good to you, but . . . He said, look, I'm listening to you now there, all day, and we're playing the Harp Club Saturday night, and you'll come with me. I have an amplifier you can plug into it. And I borrowed it, he got a guitar of someone for me, and I played with him. And he said, look, I'll go down and tour for you, and you will buy a guitar in Farmers for the music shop in Luton. And I think it was 23 pounds, I still have it, a Winston Ranger, and that was my first electric guitar. And thank you, Sean McLachlan, because I'm 50 years playing music now this year. The poor fellow, he gave me the start. It was wonderful, and I moved on from there. I learned a bit. I was actually in the house one Saturday. There was no work on Saturday, I was working with Wimpy's. And I knocked on the door, and this fellow was from the Harp Club, and he said, Maxi Dick and Twink are playing tonight in the club. And they had three guitars, right, but they weren't able to play them. And he said, would you come up and back them? And I said, I don't know, what a chance that. He said, don't let anyone know that we know. And I stood him behind the curtain, and the girls were out front. And I backed them up, and they sang, and it went down the bomb. What does the music seem like in England at the time, in the venues that you'd be playing in now? Because what kind of music would you play? Well, you know, I suppose 1968, I went to England, January 68. And when I look back on it, the Bandettes were a great band here that I may sit down and still know all those bands. But those bands were all started by Irish men. The band I played in after that was a band by the name of the Gordon Starr Show Band. And it was really a good show band. We had, like, trumpet and saxophone. And I met contact with the saxophone player a few weeks ago, and we had a session, he lives up in Donegal now. And bass guitar, rhythm guitar, and drummer, and the manager of the band, who initially was a Gaelic band, used to come up and play the Siege of Innocence. And they were just replicating what happened here 15 years earlier. He was dying out here after starting off in England. And that is a fact. We went up and down the length and breadth of England playing music in that band. And then I had started my own band called the Shindigs. And that's when Kessel Bear was the lead player, and I was the bass player, and myself, and a drummer. We didn't need each other when we were doing this all the time. But we were just replicating, particularly in the Gordon Starr Show Band, what happened in Ireland. It was freezing out in Ireland. It was cold, full throttle in England. It was magic. And all the Irish people, they were over there 9 and 10 years, 10 years, 5 years, and reliving their past, really, dancing to the same music. We were playing all the big time stuff and all that, you know. It was my one sunny day To your big island highway Oh, I wanted you Forevermore To the distant rock, to the ground I've never been home again, but I'm glad Oh, I wanted you Forevermore I said, let me ring you With my heart Oh, ring me, ring me, I'm so in love with you I'll do anything To win your heart Oh, sweet Mary Lee With my heart Yes? Oh, you're there. Michael, I do remember, even though the memory isn't as good as it was, there were great times, and there were great musicians, and there were everything, well, I'm not going to make a comparison, but for us, there were tops. And we got a lot of enjoyment, and, you know, the band you mentioned there, we all, well, them little bunnies, we call it, and then the Blue Notes, and then the Kingstone band, the Kingstone, was there another one as well? The Blue Notes, the Emeralds, and then the Kingstone band? Well, the Emeralds turned into the Mystic Aces, because the Blue Notes and the Emeralds split. Oh, they got fancy, so I didn't know that. I think, yeah, we were earning too much money, I think that was the problem. Yeah, the profits weren't, the profits weren't shared evenly. So, I say that, I'm sure the tax man got buggered off, didn't he? I wouldn't think he got lost, because the trick was to change your name if there was ever any danger of that, put a new name on the band. Yeah, but just as a footnote to that point, it's not that long ago that, I remember one time here, we had Dickie Rock for a GA function, and the mouse couldn't get in past the office, without him, he was in the office, counting and writing down everyone that came in. And I remember that distinctly, because I was involved, and at the end of the night, anyway, I think we made about £5 profit, when we were expecting about £1,000 profit. So, we might have made something, I don't want to sound dishonest now, but we might have had a chance to make something, if we could get rid of your man out of the office. I know, I know. He was, it was like, it was superglue on his backside. He wasn't getting up out of that chair, he was sitting up. But anyway, that's only a remark in between. The dance, I forget what time the dance used to be over, I think one o'clock, you wouldn't get anyone really in until about twelve. And then, they'd wear the maple floor in that hour. And when it came to five minutes to go, a lot of them were getting desperate. They were getting desperate for company. So anyway, there were such experts, that they could manoeuvre and have a date in five minutes, Michael. Now, they'll take them out for dinner, and they'll entertain them, and they'll buy lots of wine and brandy for them. And after two hours, they're still not sure if they got a date or not. But I suppose, we were the experts anyway, we knew how to live cheap. And the lemonade worked wonders. Ah, but I think half that stuff was diluted with spirits, by the way. There was no check-up that time. You could be in a bath, a pudgy, and then say it was water. But yeah, Michael, simple days. And I must say, everybody enjoyed themselves. And there was no plagiarism, and I mean that. And there was no fight, and there was no this or no that. You went to a dance, and no matter where it was, you looked forward to the band. And sometimes you didn't even know, it might be the local band that would turn up, you know, in Uchtdorf or places like that. But it didn't worry us, Michael, because we were out for a night out, and if it was only you playing the banjo on your own, people, once they got on the floor, when we saw the women, then we got a bit overexcited. But anyway, when we had time to relax and put the bicycle clips in our pocket and put the bicycle pump away, we were well organised. In 1968, Tom Mullan, as a young teenager, joined the Mystic Aces, which was later to become the Rocky Mountain Travellers. Tom played guitar and banjo, and later went on to win the All-Ireland Senior Banjo Competition at Flakyol na hÉireann. He is still performing and recording locally. Here, he remembers his first night on stage with the Mystic Aces in Mulranny. You're cheating on me Will make you weep You cry and cry I cry and plead But please let me come So hold me true You're cheating hard Gonna tell on you When tears come down Like falling leaves You talk too much You take all my pain You walk on The wrong way, I hear You're cheating hard Gonna tell on you I was walking in Clitton House. We were doing a big job in Clitton House. I was, I suppose, I'd be about 16. And I remember Bunny arriving at the gate looking for me. And when he asked me to go play, I thought it was the greatest thing that ever came my way. So anyways, that night, which was in the afternoon when he came to me, that night we had to head for Mulranny. The reason why Bunny came to me was to tell me Swinney was out fishing and it wouldn't be until, I suppose, 11 or 12 o'clock in those days that we should stay out fishing most evenings. But I remember arriving in Mulranny and all I had was three or four chords on the guitar. So Michael O'Neill put me through the paces in the, I suppose, the dressing room or the back of the cloakroom at the time. And gave me a rundown on the songs and everything. And the changes. I only had a few of my own songs. I was given a suit anyways, and this was a maroon suit. And I put on the suit. I put on the suit. The legs above, the bottom of the legs were halfway between my ankle and my knees. It was a Tommy Swinney suit, which the legs were a bit shorter than mine. But I felt so odd wearing this trouser. The jacket wasn't too bad. But the trouser, my diabolical odd to get on. I'm only 16 years old. I felt like a right idiot on stage with the rest of the boys. But we got through the night anyway They were looking at me, but I had to make the changes from C to F and G and all the fun. We got through the night anyways. So in time, well, I think I got another £2 I got for my night, which was a lot of money in those days. §§ §§ §§ §§ §§ §§ §§ §§ §§ §§ §§ §§ §§ §§ §§ §§ §§ §§ §§ §§ §§ §§ §§ §§ §§ §§ §§ §§ §§ §§ §§ §§ §§ §§ §§ §§ §§ §§ §§ §§ §§ §§ §§ §§ §§ §§ §§ §§ §§ §§ §§ §§ §§ §§ §§ §§ §§ §§ §§ §§ §§ §§ §§ §§ §§ §§ §§ §§ §§ §§ §§ §§ §§ §§ §§ §§ §§ §§ §§ §§ §§ §§ §§ §§ §§ §§ §§ §§ §§ §§ §§ §§ §§ §§ §§ §§ §§ §§ §§ §§ §§ §§ §§ §§ §§ §§ §§ §§ §§ §§ §§ §§ §§ §§ §§ §§ §§ §§ §§ §§ §§ §§ §§ §§ §§ §§ §§ §§ §§ §§ §§ §§ §§ §§ §§ §§ §§ §§ §§ §§ §§ §§ §§ §§ §§ §§ §§ §§ §§ §§ §§ §§ §§ §§ §§ §§ §§ §§ §§ §§ §§ §§ §§ §§ §§ §§ §§ §§ §§ §§ §§ §§ §§ §§ §§ §§ §§ §§ §§ §§ §§ §§ §§ §§ §§ §§ §§ §§ §§ §§ §§ §§ §§ §§ §§ §§ §§ §§ §§ §§ §§ §§ §§ §§ §§ §§ §§ §§ §§ §§ §§ §§ §§ §§ §§ §§ §§ §§ §§ §§ §§ §§ §§ §§ §§ §§ §§ §§ §§ §§ §§ §§ §§ §§ §§ §§ §§ §§ §§ §§ §§ §§ §§ §§ §§ §§ §§ §§ §§ §§ §§ §§ §§ §§ §§ §§ §§ §§ §§ §§ §§ §§ §§ §§ §§ §§ §§ §§ §§ §§ §§ §§ §§ §§ §§ §§ §§ §§ §§ §§ §§ §§ §§ §§ §§ §§ §§ §§ §§ §§ §§ §§ §§ §§ §§ §§ §§ §§ §§ §§ §§ §§ §§ §§ §§ §§ §§ §§ §§ §§ §§ §§ §§ §§ §§ §§ §§ §§ §§ §§ §§ §§ §§ §§ §§ §§ §§ §§ §§ §§ §§ §§ §§ §§ §§ §§ §§ §§ §§ §§ §§ §§ §§ §§ §§ §§ §§ §§ §§ §§ §§ §§ §§ §§ §§ §§ §§ §§ §§ §§ §§ §§ §§ §§ §§ §§ §§ §§ §§ §§ §§ §§ §§ §§ §§ §§ §§ §§ §§ §§ §§ §§ §§ §§ §§ §§ §§ §§ §§ §§ §§ §§ §§ §§ §§ §§ §§ §§ §§ §§ §§ §§ §§ §§ §§ §§ §§ §§ §§ §§ §§ §§ §§ §§ §§ §§ §§ §§ §§ §§ §§ §§ §§ §§ §§ §§ §§ §§ §§ §§ §§ §§ §§ §§ §§ §§ §§ §§ §§ §§ §§ §§ §§ §§ §§ §§ §§ §§ §§ §§ §§ §§ §§ §§ §§ §§ §§ §§ §§ §§ §§ §§ §§ §§ §§ §§ §§ §§ §§ §§ §§ §§ §§ §§ §§ §§ §§ §§ §§ §§ §§ §§ §§ §§ §§ §§ §§ §§ §§ §§ §§ §§ §§ §§ §§ §§ §§ §§ §§ §§ §§ §§ §§ §§ §§ §§ §§ §§ §§ §§ §§ §§ §§ §§ §§ §§ §§ §§ §§ §§ §§ §§ §§ §§ §§ §§ §§ §§ §§ §§ §§ §§ §§ §§ §§ §§ §§ §§ §§ §§ §§ §§ §§ §§ §§ §§ §§ §§ §§ §§ §§ §§ §§ §§ §§ §§ §§ §§ §§ §§ §§ §§ §§ §§ §§ §§ §§ §§ §§ §§ §§ §§ §§ §§ §§ §§ §§ §§ §§ §§ §§ §§ §§ §§ §§ §§ §§ §§ §§ §§ §§ §§ §§ §§ §§ §§ §§ §§ §§ §§ §§ §§ §§ §§ §§ §§ §§ §§ §§ §§ §§ §§ §§ §§ §§ §§ §§ §§ §§ §§ §§ §§ §§ §§ §§ §§ §§ §§ §§ §§ §§ §§ §§ §§ §§ §§ §§ §§ §§ §§ §§ §§ §§