This much I know: Declan Sinnott on life, creating music and why he likes shopping in Lidl
That’s why I like shopping in Lidl.
My idea of hell is to be stuck working for somebody I neither like nor respect, who I don’t even think makes good choices — because I couldn’t do anything else. To get up every morning and go to place I don’t like, and to be badly paid for it — that, for me, would be misery.
I grew up in Wexford town and the idea of being a professional musician was unheard of. My dream went as far as playing in the local parish hall and maybe, just maybe, having a day job and working in a showband at night.
I believe that we develop through adversity and learn by solving the problems that are put in front of us. My relationship with my dad was a challenge, as was learning to live in the world despite having received a lot of negative information when I was young. But, whatever doesn’t kill you makes you stronger.
Music is still very much an escape for me and it is always a challenge to stay true to what I love and still be able to earn a living from it.
I tried an office job for a while, but at some point I simply decided I was not going to give in — I was going to embrace my passion. It went down dreadfully at home. There was no such thing as an Irish music business back then, it was before even Thin Lizzy — so there was no concept of a fella earning a living from music. Maybe the opposition I met made me more determined to follow my chosen path.
I went to Dublin, slept on floors, played in folk clubs. That’s where I met Eamon Carr, which led to Tara Telephone and then Horslips.
There have been so many highlights. But I will never forget when Horslips began. There were about 50 people at our first gig. Shortly afterwards, in 1970, we got a spot at the RDS. There were about nine bands after us so we felt like the support and weren’t expecting much of a reception — but we got a standing ovation. A couple of weeks later, we played the Mansion House and had to turn away hundreds of people.
When collaborations with people like Christy (Moore) and myself are good, they’re really good. But it’s like any relationship. The pair of us could be like two elephants in a china shop if we weren’t careful about it — so we work on it. That’s the key to any relationship when the magic disappears — which it will!
I used to be shy and introverted. It took a long time for me to become a social animal. On stage, well, that’s a different hat. I talk a lot at my solo gigs now. I’ve generally become better at accepting myself and now realise that all those people who have paid in to see me want to see me succeed — they are not there to throw things at me.
I play for pleasure and I play to create.
I spent the last six months learning how to use a camera and how to edit. The process is very similar to producing music. I’ve just made my first music video.
I have lots of kids and lots of distractions so I’m not allowed to spend every waking minute on music.
Life has taught me the value of being fascinated by something — not in a destructive addictive way — but in a way that you think ‘this is what I should be doing with my life’.
My son Stephen has become involved in farming and its amazing to watch him reading up on everything he can find on the subject, from traditional texts to books by ancient Japanese guys.
I love the idea of God sitting up there with a big white beard — but I just can’t buy it. The weight of pressure on us to pick some belief makes me rebel. People want it to be true because of their own insecurities, so that they don’t have to face the emptiness.
Declan Sinnott plays The 36th Clifden Community Arts Festival which takes place from Sept 19 to 29, along with Sharon Shannon and a number of other musical, poetic and literary greats.

