CELTIC CRUSH TOP 100 SONGS 2024

It’s a difficult time for musicians. And yet, the world is teeming with music. The problems is – so few are getting paid for their efforts.

Suffice it to say, the punter has spoken, and would sooner pay a small monthly fee to Spotify, for the right to listen to 99% of all recorded music than pay 99cents in the traditional manner to a deserving musician for a recorded song.

The pandemic didn’t help, so many clubs and pubs that featured live bands went under; meanwhile, it would appear that most people would rather pay outrageous prices to watch Taylor Swift on a giant screen in a football stadium than risk a group of musos sweating on them in a club.

And what about music appreciators? How do they even figure out what to listen to anymore?

It ain’t easy. I’ve been hosting/producing Celtic Crush on SiriusXM for 19 years and am deluged by music.

So every now and then I encourage Crushers from all over the US and Canada to vote for their Top 100 favorite tracks. Perhaps the list below will help you find some new favorites.

It’s hardly surprising that The Pogues have achieved # 1 and 2 spots, given that Shane MacGowan passed away this year, but then as Bruce Springsteen noted recently, “I don’t know about the rest of us but they’ll be singing Shane’s songs 100 years from now”.

But look at #3, Aisling Gheal by Seán Ó’Riada! To my mind, this powerful melody sums up the tragedy of the Irish people during the Penal Laws, colored by a hint of redemption. And what can you say about Ó’Riada – genius that he was - except that we’re all Seán’s children.

Close by at #5, Sleep Tight in New York City, Black 47’s ode to Bainbridge Avenue, given a moody feminist interpretation by Donegal’s Screaming Orphans.

And how about hometown favorites from Paddy Reillys: Pat McGuire with You’re So Beautiful at #7 and Paddy A Go Go with their groundbreaking First Light of the Day at #13.

Skipinnish lead the Scottish contingent with Alive at #15, a testament to survival, while Eva Cassidy, the best singer you’ve never heard of, has 3 songs in the top 30, Fields of Gold, Over The Rainbow and Danny Boy.

Open Letter To You at #19 by Tuatha Dea is a stunning song by a Celtic-tinged band from rural Tennessee. 

The list also begs the questions: Will the pride of Dundalk, The Mary Wallopers, become a 21^st Century Pogues, are Fontaines DC the best Irish rock band since The Undertones, is Joe McDonnell by The Wolfe Tones one of the greatest political songs.

 

Here are the Top 40, the full Top 100 can be found at www.irishecho.com

                                     2024 SiriusXM Celtic Crush Top 100 

1.        Rainy Night In Soho – The Pogues

2.        Fairytale of New York – The Pogues

3.        Aisling Gheal – Seán Ó’Riada

4.        The Whole of the Moon – The Waterboys

5.        Sleep Tight In New York City – The Screaming Orphans

6.        When You Become Stardust Too – Shay Healy

7.        You’re So Beautiful – Pat McGuire

8.        Fisherman’s Blues – The Waterboys

9.        Mayo Moon – Bible Code Sundays

10.  The Foggy Dew – The Chieftains & Sinead O’Connor

11.  Galway Girl – Steve Earle

12.  Autumn Song – Manic Street Preachers

13.  First Light of the Day – Paddy A Go Go

14.  N17 – The Saw Doctors

15.  Fields of Gold – Eva Cassidy

16.  Alive – Skipinnish

17.  The Man From God Knows Where – Phil Coulter

18.  A Bang on the Ear – The Waterboys

19.  Open Letter To You – Tuatha Dea

20.  Streets of Edinburgh – The Proclaimers

21.  James Connolly – Black 47

22.  Over The Rainbow – Eva Cassidy

23.  Fields of Athenry – Dropkick Murphys

24.  Haunted – Shane MacGowan & Sinead O’Connor

25.  Samhradh Samhradh – The Gloaming

26.  Homes of Donegal – Paul Brady

27.  Danny Boy – Eva Cassidy

28.  Heroes/Belfast – Larry Kirwan & Co.

29.  Óró Sé Do Bheatha ‘Bhaile – Sinéad O’Connor

30.  Soldier – Francis Dunnery

31.  Wexford – The Mary Wallopers

32.  Zombie – The Cranberries

33.  Cello Song – Fontaines DC

34.  Everything’s a Miracle – Greg Trooper

35.  Fairlies – Grian Chatten

36.  Frost Is All Over – The Mary Wallopers

37.  Joe McDonnell – The Wolfe Tones

38.  Joxer Goes To Stuttgart – Christy Moore

39.  Just My Imagination – The Cranberries

40.  Kentish Town Waltz – Imelda May & Lou Reed

41.  Never Any Good With Money – Martin Simpson

42.  Proud to be a Nobody From County Louth – Jinx Lennon

43.  The Stolen Child – The Waterboys

44.  Whiskey in the Jar – Thin Lizzy

45.  Another Round – The Scratch

46.  Crooked Jack – Seamie O’Dowd

47.  Dirty Old Town – The Pogues

48.  Galway Girl – Sharon Shannon & Mundy  

49.  Ghost of the Eastern Seaboard – The Stanfields

50.  Green Suede Shoes  – Black 47

51.  Loch Lomond (Live Hampden Remix) – Runrig

52.  My Dearest Friend – The Placks

53.  Sally MacLennane – The Pogues

54.  Old Lady – Sinéad O’Connor

55.  Raglan Road – Luke Kelly

56.  Song For Ireland – Mary Black

57.  The Dutchman – Liam Clancy

58.  An Sabhal Aig Neill – Runrig

59.  Beeswing – Richard Thompson

60.  Boys in a Better Land – Fontaines DC

61.  Broad Majestic Shannon – The Pogues

62.  Brown Eyed Girl – Van Morrison

63.  Downpressor Man – Sinéad O’Connor

64.  Funky Ceili – Black 47

65.  Haunted – The Pogues (featuring Cait O’Riordan)

66.  If I Ever Leave This World Alive – Flogging Molly

67.  Mojave – Afro-Celt 

68.  Nothing Compares 2 U – Sinéad O’Connor

69.  Oran – Runrig

70.  Psalm – The Alarm

71.  Salsa O’Keefe – Black 47

72.  The Sick Bed of Cuchulainn – The Pogues

73.  The Band Played Waltzing Matilda – Liam Clancy

74.  The Green and Red of Mayo – The Saw Doctors

75.  When You’re Falling – Afro-Celt

76.  Alternative Ulster – Stiff Little Fingers

77.  Caledonia – Dougie McClean

78.  From Dublin To Wicklow – Dylan Walshe

79.  Christmas in New York – Shilelagh Law

80.  Crazy World – Aslan

81.  Cod Liver Oil and the Orange Juice – The Mary Wallopers

82.  Cold Old Fire – Lankum

83.  The Creggan White Hare – Daoiri O’Farrell

84.  Dirty Glass – Dropkick Murphys

85.  Fields of Athenry – The High Kings

86.  Fire of Freedom – Black 47

87.  I Useta Love Her – The Saw Doctors

88.  Kilkelly - Keane, Moloney & O’Connell

89.  Lisdoonvarna – Christy Moore

90.  Mandela – Mary Courtney

91.  Rags – The Waterboys

92.  Northwest Passage – Stan Rogers

93.  On a Sea of Fleur de Lis – Solas

94.  Oran na Cloiche – Manran

95.  September 1913 – The Waterboys

96.  Roots – Show of Hands

97.  Sleepy Maggie – Ashley MacIsaacs

98.  Streets of Woodlawn – The Narrowbacks

99.  The Croppy Boy ’98 – Flogging Molly

100.The Reel in the Flickering Light – Christy Moore

 

Celtic Crush premieres on SiriusXM The Loft, Ch. 710, Sundays at 9am.

THE JIG IS UP, JOE

The jig is up, Joe.

I don’t mean to be disrespectful, Mr. President, for the most part you’ve done a great job but time catches up with all of us and you’re no exception.

Your natural instinct is to pick yourself up and battle on – that’s served you well in the past – but deep down you know the truth. And if by some small chance you don’t, then take a look at your recent debate with Mr. Trump.

It was a painful night for many, as it summoned up memories of beloved parents and grandparents who had suffered time’s relentless assault. They, at least, did not have their pride and dignity shredded in the glare of a televised stage.

With time, you will take your place in the top echelon of presidents, for in one term you saved the republic twice: by defeating your authoritarian predecessor, and then rescuing and reinvigorating the economy from the ravages of Covid-19.

In the worst of times you led the country with your pugnacious optimism and Irish- American fortitude. Many of us now fear these same qualities will prevent you from stepping aside and allowing a younger member of your party to contest November’s presidential ballot.

This will be one of the most important elections in the country’s history. Essentially, it’s a battle for democracy. Mr. Trump refuses to admit that he was beaten fairly in 2020; indeed, he will not promise to accept the result of the upcoming 2024 election – unless he wins.

It’s hard to fathom, but in barely eight years this venal fabulist has utterly changed the American political landscape. 

During the recent debate he seemed even more outlandish, lie-prone, and lacking in logic than during his presidency. His one strength was that he could string together a number of sentences in a loud and forceful manner – something you seemed incapable of doing.

There was one consolation - the realization that any number of your younger Democratic peers could have exposed his ranting and raving for what it was - typical Trumpian make-believe.

Of those who spring to mind, I mention Gretchen Witmer, Sherrod Brown, Wes Moore, JB Pritzker, Chris Murphy, Gavin Newsom and, of course, your Vice-President Kamala Harris.

How odd, Mr. President, that for four years you have neglected to counsel and help Ms. Harris, especially since you too served as vice-president. Nonetheless, she seems to have found her feet in the last months, and in an open Democratic convention she could well prove herself up to the task of leading her party.

Whatever, we need a new candidate to lead the democratic forces of this country in the coming election. Not just to beat Mr. Trump, but to face up to the challenges of the coming four years – and you are no longer that man.

You will leave the country in much better shape than you found it, low unemployment, lower crime figures, surging financial markets, but there are many problems: the lack of coherent bipartisan immigration and climate policies, a national debt that must finally be faced up to, and a need for new Social Security funding. 

That’s not even taking into account the coming reckoning with Artificial Intelligence, not only from the unemployment it will cause but the existential threats it may pose for humanity.

This will take energy, vision, and a willingness to compromise. As a younger person you would have been an ideal candidate to lead us through such times. 

In the wake of the debate, senior members of your party, Obama, the Clintons, Schumer, Jeffries, et al circled the wagons and supported your ongoing candidature. Hopefully, they are now privately reaching out to you to suggest ways for your dignified withdrawal from the November election.

As a political strategist, you cannot be unaware of the dangers to the country of a Trump administration supported by majorities in both houses of congress and a compliant Supreme Court.

You now have a chance to reinvigorate the political process by stepping aside and allowing the Democratic convention to choose a new candidate in August.

It’s time to put aside ego, family, staff, and well-meaning allies and do what’s best for the country, Mr. President. The clock is ticking and the jig, unfortunately, is up.

KEROUAC IN THE BACK SEAT OF A GREYHOUND BUS

 The great Chesterton remarked that “travel broadens the mind, but you must have the mind.” To which Mark Twain added, “travel is fatal to prejudice, bigotry, and narrow-mindedness.”

I suppose they were saying roughly the same thing – get out of your burgh and air out your opinions.

Wexford was hardly narrow-minded in the early 1970’s – a port town with a strong merchant marine tradition, it was as open as any in Ireland and closest to Europe, in more ways than just geographical.

Back then, I had the good fortune to see Midnight Cowboy and read Jack Kerouac’s On The Road and, before I knew it, armed with a student visa, I arrived in New York City.

The Deuce (42^nd Street) was an eye-opener, East Village rents were cheap – life could be too, but in general, New York in the 70s was both magical and regenerative.

It didn’t take long until On The Road raised its glorious head. At Malachy McCourt’s Bells of Hell I was introduced to composer David Amram, one of the Beats. He and Kerouac had not only been close friends, they had created the Jazz/Poetry fusion during a jam a quarter century earlier.

David resurrected Jack’s spirit in the back room of the Bells and at 93 years young, he continues to do so.

In On The Road Kerouac sets off to excavate the restless soul of America, and in the 1970’s many of us followed suit.

You didn’t need much money. All you had to do was sign up to deliver a car to Florida, California or some other state of place or mind.

You laid down a small deposit, the cars were in great shape, and off you went – into the mystic.

The car agency preferred you to take your time: you had a week to drive to Florida; so accompanied by friends or girlfriend, you headed down the Turnpike to find America.

The country was changing, 1960’s attitudes had leaked wholesale into the 70’s, music was bringing people out of their shells, races were mixing, even in the rigid South. There was friction too, but Miami was resurging, and Key West was an inexpensive paradise.

As money was tight, I always took the bus back. This was a revelation. Greyhound transported working and lower-middle class America. The back seats were filled with servicemen going home, Ratso Rizzos and Joe Blows sporting a bottle or a half-ounce, and you got to hear stories in the dark that echoed Kerouac’s soul-searching.

People talked politics, but respectfully, each person had their say, and we all listened. You soon realized that almost everyone had the same goals: help their families, and be treated with respect.

There was camaraderie among strangers on those buses, and in the rest-stops and the bars near the bus stations - nobody was carrying anything valuable, and we looked out for each other.

It was much the same all over the country, for I drove to California too on varying routes, and eventually I traveled all over this vast country with the various bands I played in.

A craziness began to set in during the Obama years. Was it a reaction to a Black man being president? It was probably more complex, but there’s little doubt that a native nuttiness and xenophobia have been fanned by the powerful tail winds of the internet.

People stay home now and spend long hours staring into screens. You can argue with a “friend” thousands of miles away, without ever having set eyes upon them. You may definitely speak your piece without caring that anyone else might feel insulted by your prickly, solitary honesty.

And you have politicians, influencers, and so many others ready to make a buck by egging on you and your fantasies.

The only thing you don’t have to do today is listen.

What would Mark Twain say? My guess is he’d advise us all to go somewhere out of our comfort zone, buy a beer and listen to the soul of America.

That soul is still out there somewhere – you won’t find it in some anonymous, clamorous chat room,  but you just might run into it in the quiet of night on the back seat of a Greyhound bus. And you’d be the better for it.

I GOT LAID ON JAMES JOYCE'S GRAVE

Who is this guy, James Joyce, and why does everyone go nuts about him around the middle of June every year?

Well, this most enigmatic of Irishmen had a first date with his future wife on June 16, 1904, which event helped inspire Ulysses, a book that most people have never finished.

This same wife couldn’t make head nor tail of his “auld writing” and would have much preferred if he’d “stuck to the singing” – after all,  he had a fine voice and came third to John McCormack in a Feis Ceoil for tenors in 1903.

But there was no talking to the man. He persevered with the auld writing through debt, despair, drunkenness, and near blindness; perhaps that’s why Nora Barnacle didn’t marry Joyce until she’d lived in sin with him for 37 years.

Nora was born and bred in Galway. James’s alcoholic father, John Stanislaus Joyce, was reputed to have noted that “with a name like Barnacle Jim will never get rid of her.”

Speaking of the drink, no less an authority than Ernest Hemingway declared that James Joyce was a rummy. His poison of choice was wine but he wouldn’t touch a drop of red with a forty-foot pole, for it reminded him of blood. That’s the kind of fellah we’re dealing with!

Nora deserves retroactive sainthood, for the Joyces are reputed to have moved house more than 30 times, often one step ahead of a stiffed landlord.

We shouldn’t think too badly of James though, since he learned this trick from his Cork- born father, God help him. 

James himself is reputed to have cadged the modern equivalent of a million and a half bucks from Harriet Shaw Weaver in the course of his lifetime. In fact, he appears to have borrowed from just about anyone he came in contact with. 

When asked about his inscrutable expression in one of his more famous portraits, he explained, “I was wondering if the photographer might lend me a few shillings.”

All that being said, James Joyce was one hell of a writer. Ulysses is considered by many to be the greatest novel written, although some feel it may be an inside joke foisted upon us by a seriously deluded man. 

Still, if you make it towards the end, you will be exposed to Molly Bloom’s soliloquy, arguably the most riveting and heartfelt piece of literature. Not to mention, it is essential reading for any gentleman who wishes to get to the bottom (figuratively speaking) of a lady.

And now, some advice before you set off to explore the wonders of Ulysses, for Bloomsday, is at hand.

I would suggest beginning with Dubliners, Joyce’s short story collection; it’s accessible and contains The Dead, perhaps the finest novella in the English language. If pinched for time, you can always substitute John Huston’s lovely film of the same name, starring his daughter, Anjelica, and the immortal Donal McCann.   

   

If you’re still in a Joycean frame of mind, get thee to Portrait of the Artist as a Young Man, Joyce’s first novel. Again, this is a relatively plain-spoken book and features a Christmas dinner scene worth all the tomes devoted to the tragedy of Charles Stewart Parnell, “Ireland’s uncrowned king.”

You now owe yourself a stiff congratulatory drink. You have successfully negotiated two Joycean hurdles and Ulysses looms ahead. 

Instead of opening this Dublin odyssey at page one and lurching logically forward, I suggest you close your eyes and dive in at any other page – your choice!

Take a read, if it appeals to you continue from there, or close your eyes again and like a bee surveying the petals of a flower let your instinct direct you. If nothing should catch your fancy, then flip forward post-haste to Molly’s final cri de coeur. The very stones in the street have been moved by her soliloquy.

The idea is to get a feel for this wonderful book. Once you’re hooked you can always begin at the beginning and plough on relentlessly to the end.

For Ulysses is a true celebration of life and it brings everything you might ever want to know about the city of Dublin to the fore. All you have to do is find a line, a sentence, or a chapter that will gain you entry. From then on, your heart too will glow in the middle of June every year.

 

Bloomsday Celebrations Sunday June 16th:

 

Ulysses, 58 Stone Street, NYC – Colum McCann curates the 21^st Anniversary Bloomsday Celebration on the street, featuring Aedín Moloney as Molly, Larry Kirwan as Gerty & a cast of 1000s. 2pm Free!

 

Blooms Tavern, 208 E. 58^th St. NYC – Origin Theatre’s annual Bloomsday Celebration. Featuring Terry Donnelly, Allen Gogarty and friends. Period attire optional. 6pm, tickets, origintheatre.org 

 

American Irish Historical Society, 991 Fifth Avenue, NYC - Molly Bloom by James Joyce performed by Eilin O’Dea. 3pm, tickets, aihsny.org

 

Saturday, June 15^th,  3pm Irish American Writers & Artists, Shout in the Street, at Dive 106, 938 Amsterdam Avenue, NYC,  Free, rip-roaring & a day ahead, for information iamwa.org