Fancy coming to Ireland with me Oct. 1-7, 2019? We'll focus on Co. Antrim this year with an emphasis on Belfast, its history, politics, music & zestful life - including our usual political tour with ex-combatants as guides, a Van Morrison song journey that will include his birthplace, and a trip through Game of Thrones country where Irish history and fantasy meld together seamlessly off the beaten path. We'll visit Dublin and stay just off St. Stephen's Green in the heart of the capital. You'll have time to visit the GPO and savor the history of the 1916 Uprising, Kilmainham Jail, The Guinness Storehouse, and the many pubs, clubs, parks, and cultural centers in this bustling city We'll then travel down to my hometown, Wexford where I'll perform for you at the Arts Centre, and we'll party afterwards in legendary Mary's Bar. Then on to Limerick where we'll do a Frank McCourt/Angela's Ashes tour. Frank was a dear friend and I'll tell you stories about him, his brother Malachy & Angela herself who always called me "young fellah." You'll get to see the real Ireland and meet the real people. For INFO speak to Joe at 866-486-8772 or write: jwasserbach@hammondtours.com or download a flyer at -kirwan-2/
As you know by now Black 47 will disband in November 2014 exactly 25 years after our first gig. What a long, strange and amazing trip - from the bars of the Bronx to Leno, Letterman and O'Brien. From Paddy Reilly's Pub to Farm Aid with Neil Young and Johnny Cash. But none of it would have been possible without you - our friends and fans who stuck with us through thick and thin. You know well that Black 47 has always been more than a band. We've fought to get political prisoners out of jail, keep immigrant churches open and be a voice for the voiceless - Irish and otherwise. read more... We could have run down the clock on this coming year of gigs and farewells, but instead we decided to record a new album, Last Call. It's celebratory, full of passion, and audiences are already singing along. It's got a whole new cast of Black 47 characters, including Salsa O'Keefe, Shotsie Murphy, Legsy Malone, Culchie Prince, Dublin Brasser, Filipino Sister, along with a ballad for Brendan Behan and a song for the lost Irish sent as slaves to Jamaica by Oliver Cromwell. As you can imagine, this will be a meaningful album for us and we'd love for you to play a part in the making of it! We've teamed up with PledgeMusic to make this happen. You can pre-order a copy of LAST CALL and be well ahead of the general public. There are many more items and experiences that you can pledge for, including an opportunity to sing with us on Shanty Irish Baby, get a signed copy of the original lyrics, have Geoff Blythe record your phone message, make a home for Freddie' famous Black Trombone, take drums or bass lessons from Thomas Hamlin or Joseph "Bearclaw" Burcaw, or have Larry Kirwan help you with your song, play or novel. Everyone who gets involved will have their name permanently engraved on a Last Call Comrades Page at black47.com You'll also get access to a special 'pledger only' part of the Black 47 PledgeMusic site where we'll share music, pictures and videos from the recording with you. We begin tracking on November 5th and hope to release the album in late January 2014. Whatever way you care to get involved will be deeply appreciated - just as we've valued your support down all the crazy days since 1989. Thanks so much and take care of yourselves, okay? See you at a gig over the next year. All the best. Larry KirwanBLACK 47
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There are no fights, differences over musical policy, or general skulduggery, we remain as good friends as when we first played together. We just have a simple wish to finish up at the top our game after 25 years of relentless touring and, as always, on our own terms. The last gig we played at the South Buffalo Irish Festival was as good as any we've ever performed. Our goal now is to play another full year plus and dedicate all of those gigs to you who've supported us through thick and thin. Rather than just running out the clock we will be recording "Last Call," an album of new songs in November and as usual will be working out the material onstage. We would like to say goodbye to you all personally and will make every effort to come play in your city, town, college, pub, club, performing arts center and should you wish to alert your local promoter you can download booking particulars here (PDF 1.92MB). Black 47 has always been more than a band, we've spoken out for the nationalist population in the North of Ireland, against the war but for the troops in Iraq, for our gay brothers & sisters, immigrants, legal and undocumented, as well as for the voiceless of 1845-47; but in the end it all comes down to the music, the songs, and the desire to give audiences the time of their lives and send them home smiling and, perhaps, with a question on their lips. We look forward to seeing you all at the upcoming gigs. Thanks for the support and the memories - lets make many more over the next year.
Sinéad had blonde hair, a black beret and was a rebel. She hung out at our gigs, got drunk with us and laughed a lot. She wasn't married and had a baby at home. She was a can-do kind of person. One night she asked me what would move Black 47 to a new level? "Radio play," said I, with little or no hesitation. "Where do I start?" She replied. I told her about a guy named Vin Scelsa, gave her his address and a couple of 45s of Funky Ceili. The next week Vin started playing Funky Céilí.
Joe Strummer showed up one night and didn't leave for months. He rarely spoke, just stood in the front row and bopped to the music. What a blast! The Man from the Clash groovin' to us. He told the booker for Wetlands that he we had to play there and so began our relationship with that club that lasts to the present. Matt Dillon was in most nights. He insisted that we appear in the movie "The Saint of Fort Washington." I remember so well the closing night party in Reilly's. Danny Glover standing on his stool, black power salute to James Connolly - Matt nursing a fractured foot on the bar. Celebrities came and went - most of them nice people looking for a night out where they wouldn't be bothered. We were pretty cavalier about their presence. After all, the crowds were there to see us.
The next day, he was there with Jerry, downing his coffee and about to get stuck into the next track. He looked at me expectantly, awaiting my approval. I quickly downed 2 cups of black myself with my back turned to him. Then girding my loins, I gave him my considered, heart racing opinion. His eyes bugged out. He half dragged me back into the control room. Played back the track at full volume and asked me how I could be so stupid? He was a terrifying sight - like Jehovah on speed - but I remembered the early days in the Bronx facing down a crowd of drunken construction workers. I swallowed, told him that he was right, I'd never heard the beatings of this recording but it still wasn't the song I'd written.
Now usually after a gig we're in great form and whooping it up in the van and this was no exception. Kevin Jenkins was in a rare mood and regaling us with stories of life on the road. Around Lyme, CT. the snow hit us and we slowed down. The talk had turned to favorite bands and T Rex was mentioned. We were trying to remember how Mark Bolan met his Maker when all of a sudden we were flying around the van, as it hit the intersection, rolled over on its side, straightened up and turned over one more time into the ditch. Like idiots we didn't have our belts on and we floated around that van like rag dolls in a surreal rugby scrum. I ended upside down with Kevin's considerable black ass lying astride me. It was a scary few seconds that seemed to go on indefinitely. As we tried to right ourselves, I was sure my neck was broken. We were all bruised and battered as we tried to crawl out. At that moment, a car came slithering round the bend, hit us full on and we were thrown around once again, for good luck.
I tried to imbue in my boys the sense of wonder that I felt at their age. My childhood was so different - I was allowed to wander around our small town and observe the goings on from an early age, whereas New York City didn't really afford that freedom. I had also spent much time on my grandparents' farm down on the wild South East corner of Ireland. People there still believed in leprechauns and all manner of ghosts and spirits. In days gone by pirates had cruised those waters; stories and legends had woven themselves into actual history and everyone was the better for it because imaginations were big and reality was less defined than it is nowadays.
Many times I thought of speaking to him about it but, to my shame, I never did. You think that there'll always be time. But there wasn't. Johnny took his mattress out on the fire escape on a furnace of a night and fell over the railing on to the street below. It was a waste of an exceptional life and I still blame myself for not having the time or the guts to tell him the obvious truth - that he should have given up drinking. You might wonder why I am bringing this up here? Well, moderate and social drinking can be great for the spirit but there are some of us who should stay miles away from it. For musicians, it's a great trap. We, more often than not, get our drinks for free and often abuse this powerful substance. We live our lives surrounded by it and it's a comfort we can turn to when things go wrong - which they often do. But not enough of us look out for each other. We always think there's time. But there often isn't and Johnny is proof of that. I hope this doesn't hurt his family or many friends. But, there are other Johnnys out there and I, for one, was greatly remiss in doing my duty to one of the best friends I'm every likely to have. Look out for those around you, especially the younger ones, and don't live in the regret that some of us are now forced to. 2ff7e9595c
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