From Bank Clerks to Chieftains

“55 years on the road?“ Said I.

“56 and counting, actually.” Paddy Moloney of the Chieftains coyly smiled.

Since Paddy took up the Tin Whistle at 6 yars of age he’s probably knocked off over 5,000 gigs. But I let that thought rest during our recent interview at SiriusXM.

Paddy is the surviving godfather of Irish Traditional Music; he and Seán O’Riada created the genre as we know it now.

But even within Ceoltóirí Chualann, O’Riada’s masterful ensemble, Paddy was a driving force.

The interview bounced along merrily with PR maestro, Anita Daly, in attendance, and SiriusXM A&R rep, Liam Davenport - himself a bagpiper – dropping by for an earful of a living legend. 

My only fear was that we were laughing so much the listeners might not be able to decipher what we were actually talking about.

The Chieftains were already a household name before I first saw them perform at a festival in Wexford in the early 70’s. Apart from Irish acclaim, John Peel played them regularly on his groundbreaking BBC radio shows.

How odd to hear Irish Traditional Music sandwiched in between Cream and Frank Zappa. But it all fit seamlessly for each was plowing their own furrow, and to hell with the begrudgers!

I reminded Paddy about that Wexford gig. With his near photographic memory he recounted the scene. 

“Out we shuffled onto the stage before the progressive band, Curved Air. We must have looked like a crowd of bank clerks in our dark suits.”

Up near where I sat in the balcony Curved Air fans hooted their displeasure until threatened by veterans of local Teddyboy rumbles.

Then Paddy recalled his involvement with the movie Barry Lyndon. 

“It was a Friday afternoon and I was doing an interview in Dublin when I got a phone call from a Mr. Stanley Kubrick who wished to speak to me. Unfamiliar with his name, I asked if he could give me a shout back on Monday and hung up. Luckily the world famous director persisted and the rest was history.”

Talk about the right music for the right scene. I can still recall the emotion I felt when hearing Mná na hÉireann during a Times Square showing of Kubrick’s iconic film.

If Seán O’Riada’s Mise Éire sountrack changed the way Irish people thought of themselves, then Moloney’s scoring of Barry Lyndon for this Academy Award winner put Irish Traditional Music on the international stage.

But then Paddy has received many awards including a doctorate from Trinity College Dublin. That finally put paid to his mother nagging him about giving up his “nice steady job” as an accountant for the uncertain life of a gigging musician.

The Dublin of the 1950’s was a quiet, but seething, backwater when Paddy took his first steps on the road to fame. Was there anyone of note he didn’t know?

Brendan Behan was a friend and “had a lovely voice. He could hit a high G effortlessly and was a nice man – most of the time.”

Paddy, in his work for Claddagh Records, actually recorded Patrick Kavanagh and recounted the poet’s volcanic and argumentative nature while imbibing in McDaid’s Pub.

Another poet, John Montague, suggested the name The Chieftains when the boys were contemplating calling themselves “The Quare Fellahs” in honor of Brendan Behan. 

Think how Irish Traditional Music might have been perceived down the years if they’d been known as “The Quare Fellahs!”

Though he’s recorded with everyone from The Stones to Pavarotti, Paddy is at his hilarious best talking about the Chieftains’ outings with Van Morrison. His take on the East Belfast man’s accent and eccentricities is spot on.

And yet Moloney has a reverence for musicians, and is well aware that together Van and The Chieftains created Irish Heartbeat - a classic in modern Irish music – in five frantic days. 

As you read this The Chieftains are touring America. As ever they mix the mad, the merry and the melancholic.

Go see them. They are a link to both the past and the future, and will work wonders on your soul.

Not bad for a crowd of bank clerks!