Eoin's Blog: blogtime!

Looks like we've slackened off a bit from our initial euphoric blog-mania, but back on track now I feel.

Had a great gig in The Village there in Dublin on Saturday night. We couldn't help ourselves bringing in a bit of the comedy set we did last Wednesday. That gig has changed our performing lives forever.

You can check it out on the video section of the website, we did our comic maiden voyage at the Laughter Lounge in Galway's ballroom of romance, the Roisin Dubh. It was a serious night. Started off sound-checking to an empty room with nobody but the lovely Cindy behind the bar, who had to take the brunt of my pre-show heeby-jeeby jokes, which she took with great grace (sorry about that Cindy). Then introduced myself to this cool lookin dude who breezed in before the crowd, who to our embarrasment I didn't recognise as Olaf Tyranson. Which segweys nicely to my story about about meeting a serious legend in the Irish scene.

Was down at the Bantry Trad Music Festival, curated by the ultimate Trad rock-star Martin Hayes, if you want a crash course in the best of Trad, just check out that website, and the recording that Eoin Brady at Lyric FM has just released of the highlights of that festival over the last few years. Anyway, everyone sitting down after the interval, squeezed into seats laid out in the magnificent library room of Bantry House, when this gentleman beside catches my eye. I noticed him during the first half sighing deeply and release sub-audible moans of ecstasy as the musicians were expertly turning out their tunes, and just presumed that he was really getting into the music, which he was. So he says to me, 'are you a singer, are you? My wife here just recognised you from the telly." Delighted, of course, I held out my hand and said, "lovely to meet you, yes, my name's Eoin" and then just paused, holding out for the kind stranger to reveal to me his name.
Then, after a pause just a millisecond too long, he said, "how'ya Eoin, my name's Christy." Just at that moment the artist took to the stage and applause filled the room, all eyes focusing back on the action. I turned around, clapping away, when suddenly I got that sinking feeling in my stomach: Fuck, that's Christy fucking Moore!

As you can possibly gather, my natural talents don't lie in the recollection of people's faces, or names for that matter. So the rest of the gig was spent working out how exactlyl was I going to pick up from where we had letf off. I had my line worked out just as the gig finished and the final applause died down, I turned confidently around and said, "well, we're such huge fans of your in our house, it's just amazing to finally meet you." a little bit of flatter does no harm, nor was it a word of a lie. One of the first songs I ever learnt off on the guitar was Chrity's version of Missing You, which I still sing to this day, when abroad. and with the ice broke, we spent the next 20 mins chatting as if we were two freinds who hadn't seen eachother in years. I told him of me and Moley's album, which he said we have to send up to him to his private PO Box, mind you, and that he'd sponsor me for the Triathalon I'm doing in May for the Limerick Youth Service, and to let him know if we wanted any tickets for his gig at the Concert Hall in Limerick thank you very much. My freind Christy. Rock and Roll.