Upbeat about the downturn
FOLK singer Damien Dempsey is tired of the endless teeth gnashing over the recession and the death of the Celtic Tiger. The Dubliner suspects his fans feel the same. So his next album is going to be upbeat. His intention is to spread hope, rather than focus on the dark side. This, he says, represents quite a change in tone from earlier records.
“In the past, I wrote about the negative elements of the Celtic Tiger, about the industrial schools, the scandals in the Church,” he says. “People are being bombarded every day with all this stuff about the banks and the economy and how grim the outlook is. I don’t want to do something in that vein. Everyone is sick of it. You turn on the radio in the morning and it’s all you hear all day. I want to create something that is positive, that emphasises the values of community spirit. Sitting down to write the album, I had a very clear idea of what I needed to achieve ”
It’s been a while — nearly five years — since his last collection of original material (a concept record about white slavery called To Hell or Barbados). The Donaghmede native has never stopped working. Sometimes, though, quality takes time. And he isn’t the fastest composer in the world. Trial and error is part of his creative process.
“I always say that I have to write ten songs to get one good one,” he says. “That’s how it happens for me. With the new album, I’ve written 80 songs. And I have, maybe, eight decent ones. So I reckon I’ll have to write another 20, if there are going to be ten tracks on the album.”
Is he a perfectionist? No, Dempsey says. But his producer is. “It’s all down to John Reynolds. He’s pushing me to have ten crackers, ten big anthems. If it wasn’t for him, I’d probably have put it out a long time ago. He’s always going ‘no, you can do better.’ He’s cracking the whip. As a songwriter, that’s what you need. Someone telling you that you can constantly improve,” he says.
This isn’t to suggest the new record, which he hopes to put out next year, will be entirely apolitical. One of the songs is about racism. It is addressed to the children of migrants growing up in Ireland, whom he suspects will be discriminated against at some stage in their lives.
The day he finished the song, Dempsey switched on the radio and listened as the lord mayor of Naas explained why he would not represent ‘black Africans’.
“That was a heavy thing to hear,” he says. “There are lots of kids [of migrant families] growing up who are going to have heavy times. As they get older they will see a negative side to Ireland. So I wanted to write a song that will enlighten Irish kids, maybe broaden their minds a bit.”
Singing in a broad Dublin accent and with an anti-authoritarian world view, Dempsey is a throwback. He recalls the protest singers of the 1960s and Dublin folk groups such as The Dubliners. It’s a singular mix and has endeared him to such luminaries as Sinéad O’Connor (with whom he has duetted) and Morrissey, a long-time champion.
Speaking to Dempsey, you get a sense of how strongly he believes in people power, in communities and their ability to make a difference. “I’d love to see people out there marching. The more the screw is tightened with all these new taxes, the greater the likelihood that might happen. That’s what I’m writing about on the album. The importance of community, of standing up for your rights,” he says.
Dempsey, who headlines a New Year’s Eve concert at Dublin’s College Green, has been staying busy in other ways too. Three years ago he put out a covers collection of old Dublin pub standards, The Rocky Road. Raised on salty ballads such as The Auld Triangle and The Foggy Dew, he feared such songs were in danger of being forgotten by a younger generation. The album was his way of keeping the tunes alive.
“My nieces and nephews, they’re into their Britney Spears and gangsta rap and stuff like that,” he says. “When I was their age I was into Irish musicians — Christy Moore, the Dubliners, The Fureys. I was very lucky. They were all still playing. I thought, ‘if I can put together an album of these great songs, then the young people will be reminded of what they are missing’.”
The Rocky Road could be read as a lament for a Dublin pub culture that no longer exists. Growing up on the city’s northside, Dempsey fondly recalls Sunday afternoons spent listening to traditional musicians in his local. Nowadays, an accordion player would have a hard time being heard over the blare of Sky Sports. “Sunday was a great day in the pub,” he says. “Always a fantastic time for a sing-song. The publicans don’t want to pay people to play anymore. Maybe they can’t afford it.”
Then there was his collaboration with the street artist Maser. In 2009, graffiti quoting Dempsey’s lyrics started appearing around Dublin. It was particularly visible along the Docklands, the glittering monument to the folly of the property boom. The messages ranged from obscure (‘Your Back Streets Are My Pride And Joy’) to lyrical (‘Ancient Poetry Echoes In Soft Rain Down The Lanes’). What shone through was Dempsey’s love for Ireland, his belief the country can lift itself again. “A lot of people were very down about what was going on with the economy,” he says. “They wanted a positive message. So Maser asks me, ‘would you write me some words?’ I gave him loads and loads of lyrics. He needed money for his equipment, too, so we held a fundraiser and did very well. “There was a great vibe about what he did. The graffiti was seen all over town. We had an extremely strong response. I am very proud to have been involved in a project like that. It’s important to reach out to people. ”
* Damien Dempsey performs with Paul Brady, Bresie and The Coronas at the New Year’s Eve Countdown Concert, College Green Dublin, December 31






