Touchline, Winter Solstice, 2010

It has been an age since I wrote to you, my dear faithful friends. But is there anything new in that?  Ireland may appear to have floundered beneath the Atlantic waves economically, according to to those eejits who know the price of everything and the value of phug all. But  I, for one, welcome  the death of the Celtic Tiger.It is a joy to visit Ireland again. A long wandering to the Tiger and snow to his heels, as my father used to say. The old Ireland I loved seems to be returning; we have time again to talk to each other, to take stock; and if the Germans are foolish enough to bail us out, well, fair play to ‘em!  I’m thinking about designing a tee shirt with an ornate Greek round-back bouzouki at the back, the techicolour abalone around the sound-hole sparkling in the capricious moonlight; on the front, over your breasts (singular in some sexes;plural in others) will be a representation of “Benjy”, my trusty, first flat-back bouzouki (see pic on “The Boys of Fairhill”. I’m trying to find a suitable catch phrase-can you help me out here, fans and friends? to run something like: “Greeks and Irish: bailed out brothers in bouzouki land”. Something like that. Should any wise wag (and there are many!) come up with something (we can do the Greek and Irish translation on either side of the tshirt later), just email me on freestaterecords@gmail.com

I have me doubts about Facebook,do you see? I don’t like the shallow, juvenile amorphous communication it evinces and encourages.I also don’t like my correspondents to be rudely interrupted by advertisments. I may change my mind, but for now, I won’t bother me arse with it.

I won’t test the reader’s patience by railing at the Irish banks, the Builders’ Party (Fianna Fáil) and those who sold out the very heart and soul  of Éire; it’ll all turn on ‘em fast enough, wait and see.And the soul doesn’t die. I particularly wish minister Dick Roche a long wandering. May his sleep be tormented by the Hostages , Kings, cooks and potboys of the ancient city of Tara from about 200 BC to 600 AD for what he did to the Hill of Tara, to our greatest treasure! Imagine the Egyptians putting a Meccano set through the Pyramids! No trouble to these Irish Philistines.

The gigs and the writing are carrying me downwind in a reasonable force four southerly. Whatever it is about my adopted winter home in Dunedin, Florida, it seem to inclucate good songwriting habits and I’m happy with a few recent songs I wrote like “Haunted”, about being forever haunted by a past love and not being able to move on to someone else. I always wanted to write a “standard” like “Fever” and “Haunted” is my humble attempt. Another new song I’m looking forward to singing for you soon is “Full Fathom Five” a lament for  Asgard 2, the ill-fated brigantine which was left rotting at the bottom of the Bay of Biscay by the philistine brothers in the Irish government of the aforementioned minister Dick Roche. If this particular “Touchline” is a tad angrier than usual it’s because I am angry by many of the treacherous things the Powers That Be have visited on the Irish people. However, I can see , as I suggested,  the sproutings  of stong  communal ties  hitherto stifled by that bastar’in’ Tiger. For instance, I can see West Cork scallop boats fishing in Cork harbour again, a thing that wasn’t seen sight or light of for thirty year. And the wiser, poorer  people are once again buying the time-tested “uncool” traditional cuts of meat like “shoulder of lamb”, “shank”, etc and even mutton! which I have missed so much, is making a comeback. Nor is there any let- up to the re-discovered delights of cooking healthy, herb-eating wild rabbits, a tasty dish that couldn’t be better for you. For you see, anarchy is in the air! What do we need any o’ the Anointed for? Politicians, banks, prophets of doom, and yes, the media! The people, quite unbeknown to themselves are autonomous and are proving that they can  get on grand without  any of ‘em!

I was thrilled to learn that the muse is “after” visiting another member of the Crowley clann, the National Radio service; my brother Darby is writing some beautiful songs but none nicer than a moving triblute to Dublin docker Jimmy Gunnery who rescued young lads  incacerated for petty offences from the cluthes of  the Christian Brothers and other orders. Darby was so moved by an excellent, prize-winning radio documenary from RTE on the pathetic subject of “runners”: lads who tried to excape from these hell-holes, where bounties were offered to the local farmers for turning them in. We worked on a demo of the song with Darby’s son, Brian and some members of his rock band, The Vandles at the studio in Darby’s place. I was there as “guest producer” and played a bit on “Sandy Bell”, my thrusty old 1968 Martin and I can’t wait to return to lovely  Cill na Martra to finish the job.

After a beautiful summer at home where I moved very happily  into my new house overlooking the Holy Ground in Cobh, Cork Harbour, I am back in the Land of the Free; Home of the  Brave, where, if I may say tentatively, things are starting to pick up a bit. There was a bountiful productive sojurn in California where Marla Fibish, the sorceress of the mandolin and yours put the finishing touches to  our instrumental album “The Morning Star” . I am thrilled an honoured to be performing with this great lady who has the best right hand since Christy Ring! We may be  corrected or  contradicted by someone out there, but we coyly suggest that  the “The Morning Star” is possibly the first album of Irish music performed exlusively on the double-strung, mandolin family instruments. We have included Marla’s beautiful signature if battle-worm Gibson A and  her sweet golden Gibson mandola. I used a unique bass bouzouki I designed with Dublin luthier Joe Foley and we call it a dordán. Faithful “Benjy” is prominent throughout and I dueted on second mandolin with Marla on some cuts including sets of Cork, Kerry and English polkas and two new jigs I composed while moved by the tropical beautiy of Florida: “The Dunedin Jig” and “Honeymoon Island”.And here also,you’ll find the sonorous baratonal murmurings of a gorgeous insturment called a  mando- cello. Ye’ll have to wait till early late Spring (April) for “ The Morning Star” when me an Marla tour Florida to promote it. All interested venues and parties in the Sunshine State should contact the sources listed on this site.

 In New York as I write, I feel so fortunate to be getting a taste of that unique Big Apple Yule. I felt like a king  on my way to the gig in Lily’s yesterday (12-18-10),the ochre sunshine hosing in lush rivulets of joy through the trees and traffic; the people dressed more like Russians than Yanks in the overwhelming Christmas buzz and Burl Ives singing “Have a Holly, Jolly Christmas”. In Harlem earlier in the week to rehearse with Heather Martin Bixler, my NY fiddle-playing  musical partner, I was standing at a bus stop waiting for the M4 and this beautiful black woman kinda sidles up to me at the stop. “Where’s your hat, honey? You’re going to freeze, and your coat?” I re-assured her by producing another “layer” from my bag, a light but enduring plastic rain jacket from whose pockets I pulled a pair of  leggings, a cap, a scarf and a pair of gloves. I told her I was waiting till it got really bad before I donned em!

Harlem is a wonderous conurbation, I’ve had more sing-songs on that “One” train than in Miltown Malbay!

Guidhim gach rath oraibh go léir don Nollaig seo. Anseo, san Oileán Úir a chaithfead í, foraoir, ach beidh gob fliuch agus bolg lán agam I bhfocair mo cháirde Patsy Dunlea ó Churchfield, Corcaigh agus a chéile Connie. Le cuidiú Dé, bead ag tarraingt ar Éirinn arís go luath san ath-bhliain. Pé thall nó abhus a mbeidh sibh, tabhairaigí  aire agus bain sult aist, Jimmy Crowley 12-19-10