Plenty Moore in the tank

The sweat and the ballads still flow freely and when Christy takes to the Marquee stage, expect the unexpected. Carl Dixon reports

NOW 67, Christy Moore has proved himself as a songwriter but it is his interpretations of the songs of others that has always been his strongest suit.

For Moore and Declan Sinnott their concert on Jun 23 will be their eight successive year playing at the Marquee in Cork. “The sweat still flows if the concert is going well and I still belt out the ballads,” he says “My belly might be a bit softer but not my repertoire. I do like to take chances in the live arena and try new things. I do like to entertain, and I like to enjoy myself too.”

Moore was born in Kildare in 1945 — one of his only remaining ambitions, he notes is to see Kildare win the All-Ireland — and grew up in the rural, sometimes idyllic, but also repressed Irish society of the 1950s. In a slightly unorthodox, tongue-in-cheek biography on his website he summarises the ’50s as follows; “At six I took Christ’s body for the first time. I was half brainwashed with catechism and discipline and eternal damnation on the horizon. I saw Rock Around the Clock and learned what erections were for. Left the Altar Boys and found the FCA. Got long trousers, began to shave, tasted ale, Babycham and Jameson. Won a county medal for gaelic, sang solo in the choir, could be a right little obnoxious bollix or the nicest lad in Ireland. Met Ronnie Delaney on his way home from Melbourne. Daddy died. Fuck it. He was sound.”

He remains critical of the Catholic Church; his recent comments that he hated the Eucharistic Congress sparked a war of words with Johnny Duhan, the writer of one of Christy’s best known songs ‘The Voyage’. However he remembers his childhood years with fondness.

“I think the children and teenagers of today are more sophisticated than we were but there is an awful loss of innocence,” Moore recalls. “One of my favourite songs is ‘Gortatagort’ by John Spillane which describes his experiences going to his stay with his grandmother on a farm in West Cork. I suppose I am from the last generation to experience that type of Irish upbringing and I wouldn’t swap it for a modern childhood.”

Always fascinated by music, Moore took advantage of the bankers strike in 1966 to practice hard and soon left his job to peruse a career in music. He released his album Prosperous in 1972 and with Liam O’Flynn, Andy Irvine, and Dónal Lunny formed Planxty. He left that group in 1975 to continue his solo career.

“I got my first guitar in 1961, I got three chords from Donal Lunny and started learning The Clancy Brother’s repertoire,” he says “Then I began to notice other songs, started going to libraries and researching old collections. I encountered nothing but encouragement and good vibrations from traditional musicians. Traditional music is flourishing at the moment; when I was a teenager there was barely 10 uilleann pipers in the country, now there are 10 guys making uilleann pipes to meet the demand.”

Moore admits he sees himself as a singer rather than a songwriter. “I have written 60 songs perhaps but have recorded hundreds and I have been hunting for songs since I was 16. Booms and recessions come and go, revolutions and invasions too, but the folk songs keep coming and the tunes still get played. There are more songwriters in Ireland now than ever before and many of them are writing some great songs, but to hear these songs you have to go out and find them. I was at two song sessions last week and heard some fine new songs that were written in the traditional style.

“There will always be an underground music scene in Ireland. I suppose I see myself in the style of the old ballad singers who carried the stories of the day and spread the news before the spin sets in.”

Primarily a solo artist Moore’s work has been characterised by a mixture of humorous songs such as ‘Joxer Goes to Stuttgart’, ballads in the traditional style such as ‘Missing You’ which movingly charts an emigrant’s experience in London and songs which reflect his strong social conscience and left-wing political beliefs.

‘Ordinary Man’, released during the recession of the 1980s, detailed the struggles of a recently fired worker and contrasted his prospects with those of his rich employer. He was also sympathetic to the republican cause and his 1978 album H-Block was written in support of the hunger strikers. His version of ‘Back Home in Derry’, one of his most popular songs, was written by hunger striker Bobby Sands.

Drink and drugs are often part and parcel of the musician’s lifestyle and in this Moore was no exception. Combined with longs days on the road and food on the run, it left him with serious health problems and he reduced his work load significantly in the 1990’s. In more recent times Moore has perhaps become a less confrontational, less driven figure; but does this mean he has mellowed or does he still experience that visceral anger at the injustices of the world?

“My music hasn’t mellowed but I suppose I have mellowed as a person,” he says. “I have a touch of that anger in me but I learned a long time ago that anger can have a damaging impact on the person that holds it. Like everyone else I have moments in the dead of night when I despair of the human race, but there are other moments when I am playing live on stage, or when I am with the young, that I feel optimistic.”

Moore’s last album, entitled Folk Tale, was recorded with long-time collaborator Declan Sinnott and released in 2011. It features a mixture of stories, lyricism, humour and lamentation and has been generally well received.

“I have a good following in England Scotland and Wales and I play Germany, Holland and Belgium every two years. For the past 16 years I have only played in places that I can reach by road and sea. I find the recording process challenging; for me the music tends to come alive when there are people there to hear it being played. So it is good when an album gets positive reviews.

“I am very lucky that I have enough work here to keep me going but in this game there is always an insecurity about how long it will all last. I started out playing backstreet pubs in the UK to small crowds and in the back of my mind I know I could always go back to that and survive. Much as I like playing to big crowds, and ridiculous as it may sound to some, I could go back to that life and be perfectly happy.”

* Christy Moore plays Live at the Marquee, Cork, on Jun 23