{"id":1140,"date":"2014-10-01T13:15:34","date_gmt":"2014-10-01T17:15:34","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/stephaniesilberwordsworks.com\/?p=1140"},"modified":"2014-10-01T13:15:34","modified_gmt":"2014-10-01T17:15:34","slug":"fanatic-heart-twenty-five-years-of-black-47","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/hometeamproductions.tv\/wordsworks\/fanatic-heart-twenty-five-years-of-black-47\/","title":{"rendered":"FANATIC HEART: Twenty-Five Years of Black 47"},"content":{"rendered":"

We stayed up well past our bedtime last Saturday night.\u00a0 We’d turned out for Black 47’s last show at Connolly’s, New York City headquarters for over 15 years to that peripatetic band.\u00a0 Though we’ll attend the “final show ever<\/a>” at B.B. King’s on November 15th, the occasion was nevertheless bittersweet.<\/p>\n

I remember well the first Black 47 gig we attended at Paddy Reilly’s in May of ’94.\u00a0 The \"B47<\/a>band, founded by Irish born frontman and songwriter Larry Kirwan, along with then-Brooklyn cop Chris Byrne<\/a>, had exploded onto the music scene in 1989, capturing the hearts and imagination of an ever growing and wildly mixed-bag fan base.\u00a0 To say that the Black 47 live experience was a dizzying and all-encompassing Bacchanalia would be putting it mildly.<\/p>\n

\"B47<\/a>Fists pump the air as the music surges.\u00a0 The place is on fire.\u00a0 Hipsters, cops and firemen, suburbanites, socialites and the odd celebrity, shout in exuberant unison along with the lyric.\u00a0 “My name is James Connolly<\/a> \/ I didn’t come here to die \/ but to fight for the rights of the working man…”\u00a0 It’s a slice of Irish history, Black 47<\/a> style, delivered as only Larry Kirwan can.<\/em><\/p>\n

Says Kirwan, “In the early 90’s we set out to give a voice to the whole nationalist population in the north of Ireland.\u00a0 They were so down at the time.\u00a0 What we were trying to do was wake people up.”<\/p>\n

Wake people up they did.\u00a0 The Black 47 narrative is not solely a story about a band, or even the man who drives it.\u00a0 It’s a story about politics.\u00a0 Irish politics, American politics, the politics of the music business, and most importantly, the politics of love and freedom.\u00a0 Indeed, the band’s name is derived from the worst year of the Irish potato famine.\u00a0 In the end, for Larry Kirwan, politics is his life’s work, and poetry a means to convey his eloquent message.\u00a0 Don’t make the mistake of thinking about Black 47 as an “Irish band.”\u00a0 They’re anything but, as many a tavern owner on Bainbridge Avenue in the Bronx would attest to, back in the band’s early days.\u00a0 The unique New York City\/Irish nexus is the bedrock of their music.<\/p>\n

“Take all the sounds you hear in New York; the hip-hop, the reggae, the noise in the East Village.\u00a0 Put ’em together in a big melange and this is Black 47,” comments Kirwan.<\/p>\n

Long ago, the band was informed by an alternative radio station that their sound was “too alternative to be alternative.”\u00a0 Maybe.\u00a0 But in spite of the vagaries of a fickle business, the group did have its fifteen minutes — and it stretched that into twenty-five years.\u00a0 Theirs is a story of survival.<\/p>\n

Other than the venue, last Saturday night differed little from that May of ’94 at Paddy \"032\"<\/a>Reilly’s.\u00a0 Personnel has shifted a bit, and many more songs are to be found in the canon, but the band’s dynamic, the energy, and the message remain the same.\u00a0 Time collapsed.\u00a0 The packed house rocked in place.\u00a0 Fred Parcell’s trombone interlocked seamlessly with Geoff Blythe’s wailing sax.\u00a0 Thomas “Hammy” Hamlin pounded the skins as if there would be no tomorrow, with Joseph “Bearclaw” Burcaw providing a robust bass line, while Joe Mulvanerty’s uilleann pipes skirled madly.\u00a0 Kirwan, resplendent in his trademark green suede shoes, has lost none of his nimble footwork and passionate delivery.<\/p>\n

\"050\"<\/a>I might have wept, but I was too busy dancing like a dervish.\u00a0 I confess, however, that the tears sprang to my eyes and my throat closed up a little as the applause roared on and on, after the calls for more, and still more, had been satisfied.<\/p>\n

Thanks, Black 47.\u00a0 We were lucky to have had twenty-five years with you.\u00a0 And I think it would not be hyperbolic to say the world is a better place because of your contribution to it.<\/p>\n

\"B47<\/a><\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

We stayed up well past our bedtime last Saturday night.\u00a0 We’d turned out for Black 47’s last show at Connolly’s, New York City headquarters for over 15 years to that peripatetic band.\u00a0 Though we’ll attend the “final show ever” at … Continue reading →<\/span><\/a><\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":2,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"closed","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":[],"categories":[1],"tags":[],"yoast_head":"\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\t\n