Linger On, Your Pale Blue Eyes

By Joe Kavanagh

Ordinarily, I try to keep this column as Irish as possible when it comes to music, although it can be extremely difficult to find 52 Irish acts each year that are worthy of print in a newspaper half a world away, hence the occasional digression.

Ordinarily, I have a list that I choose from; a list that is continuously updated and weighted, to tie in with album releases, tours etc. but as I sat down to write a column pertaining to Irish music this week, I found it very hard to justify writing about anything other than the giant that Irish music lost last week.

In a column that prides itself about being intimate with the entire scene, it would not only be remiss to write about anything other than one Ronnie Drew, it would be virtually redundant.

As I mentioned a couple of weeks back in another piece, the world of music endures partially because of the icons it creates, and while Ronnie Drew may not have had the immense talent associated with names like Dylan and Cash, his cultural impact among the Irish people is nothing short of remarkable.

In fact, he so exuded the qualities that most people consider as consistent with our national identity and his contribution to the cultural heritage of the island is such that the name 'Ronnie Drew' is quite simply as Irish as the word 'Ireland' itself.

Ronnie Drew was born on 16 September 1934, in the tiny south Dublin suburban village of Glasthule, only yards away from the Martello Tower now known as James Joyce Tower, where the celebrated author lived before he was shot at while living there, by fellow Irish writer, Oliver St John Gogarty; a superb piece of happenstance given the fact that the acclaimed Irish author would later inspire the name of Drew's group.

Despite completing his secondary education, the notion of a 9-5 life never really appealed to the restless youngster, though he made a gamely attempt by taking on a series of jobs that included electrical apprentice, drapery shop assistant and vacuum cleaner salesman, among other things.

Curiously, it was not until he took a job working for the Dublin Telephone Exchange that he began to find his path, as he discovered that virtually all of his equally unconventional workmates harbored ambitions beyond their current lot.

It was this lust for adventure that prompted Drew and several colleagues to move to Spain in 1955, where he taught English, while taking classes in flamenco guitar, before returning home three years later.

Initially, he viewed music as a simple hobby, as he trotted out songs at parties and informal events, until he was approached by acclaimed Irish actor, John Molloy, who persuaded the young man to work with him on projects at the Gate Theater, providing musical interludes and eventually even participating in shows.

It was, he would later claim, where he learned his stagecraft and a love of performing although it would take one more act of fate before music was even a consideration as a legitimate career.

Like the US and the UK, Ireland experienced an explosion in interest in folk music in the early 60s, nowhere more so than a little pub just outside Dublin's city center called O'Donoghues, where enthusiasts would gather to share songs, poems and pints.

Among the regular customers were Drew, Luke Kelly, Ciarán Bourke and Barney McKenna, who enthralled crowds at their often spontaneous music sessions.

Realizing the power of their music, the group initially formed the Ronnie Drew Folk Group in 1962, but later sought to change name because they felt that it made them sound like a showband.

In one of the most apt naming decisions by any band, Kelly suggested that they name themselves after James Joyce's novel, The Dubliners, and a legend was born.

After several years of playing packed houses up and down the country, and with an emergent reputation as a hard-partying band, the group was introduced by their close friend Dominic Behan (brother of Brendan), to Phil Solomon, who had made a name as the man credited with discovering Van Morrison.

Signing the band to his Minor Major Records, Solomon also used his position as one of the directors on UK pirate radio station, Radio Caroline, to push the band's music, giving heavy rotation to one track in particular.

Seven Drunken Nights had its origins as a sean-nós (ancient Irish style of singing) and the Dubliners' English version was banned in Ireland but ended up being the band's first top 10 hit in the UK, leading all the way to an appearance on wildly popular TV show Top of the Pops, where the band shared a stage with The Who, The Kinks and Jimi Hendrix.

The polar opposite of the polished Clancy Brothers, the hard-living, larger than life Dubliners spent the next decade touring the globe and even playing the Ed Sullivan show during one US tour, in what they would later describe as a ten year drinking session.

Such a life, however, inevitably takes its toll and in 1974, Bourke collapsed on stage after having a stroke which he never truly recovered from.

With his best friend in the band gone, Drew left only months later in order to follow a solo career and be closer to his family.

Two reasonably well-received solo albums and five years later, he was back in the fold, only for Kelly to collapse on stage in 1980, as the result of a brain tumor.

Although Kelly returned to the band a remarkable three weeks later, his was a slow disintegration that took a further four years to kill him, although thanks to his inner strength, audiences would never quite appreciate his personal struggle.

With Kelly's death, the band seemingly was once again in decline, until they were teamed up in 1988 with the new generation of Irish trad enthusiasts, in the shape of Shane McGowan's Pogues.

The two groups collaborated on another Irish standard in the shape of the Irish Rover, and incredibly The Dubliners were back on Top of the Pops, with another top 10 hit.

Although the band continued (and in fact continues to this day), Drew decided to call permanent time on his Dubliners' career in 1996.

In the time since, he released his most acclaimed solo works, collaborated with a plethora of artists from across the spectrum, including Italian pianist, Antonio Breschi, PIL bassist, Jah Wobble and even appeared on the Dropkick Murphys 2007 album, The Meanest Of Times, in addition to taking his solo shows to places as far afield as the US, Australia and Israel.

It is a testament to the man's character that some of these duties were performed in pain, as Ronnie Drew was diagnosed with throat and lung cancer in 2006, almost at the same time as the Gaiety Theatre honored him by unveiling a bronze cast of his hands at the acclaimed theater.

Initially, the prognosis was good, but fears rose as the chemotherapy robbed him of his distinctive beard and hair and word began to spread that this might be the first fight in his life that Ronnie Drew might lose.

Scottish comedian and close friend of Drew's, Billy Connolly, is fond of telling a story where the two were together in Dublin many years ago and Ronnie told him: "I know everybody in Ireland."

After Connolly scoffed at the very notion, Drew offered to prove it to him by taking him for a walk.

When the two men emerged outside, every single person that passed the pair offered a friendly greeting with the words: "Hi Ronnie!" Drew just winked at his comedian friend, saying: "I told you so."

Ronnie Drew, through his obvious honesty, decency and humility, was loved by a nation in his life and mourned by it, in his death. A man who was truly of Ireland in its truest sense, his death now makes him a part of Ireland itself.