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Brendan Behan, Nurses & Invalids 

In the course of discourse last Wednesday - it being here on the temperate southern coast of Espanola – the sun held court in a clear sky, the mood was light, the topics tidy and tame allowing high quality / low cost coffee, cervezas and vino to flow  unabated until the tolling metaphorical bell of COVID curfew sounded.

The party was within the legal limit of six and composed in the comfort of those who have an affinity for such a gathering along with an obligation to participate in argument, debate and shared laughter.

An enquiry was forwarded concerning long playing records or albums or CD’s or downloads – depending on one’s vintage and use of expression – which had made a personal impact beyond the moment, or even the era, and continued to colour thinking to the extent of influence ...... in simpler terms; ‘what are your top five albums of all time girls and boys?’

Despite generally having serious objections, (unvoiced on this particular occasion), to limiting all or any artistic expressions I have heard and felt throughout my life to a list of favourites – not possible ... no .... definitely not possible – I accepted the premise of this parlour game and became a good listener as those around me were rapidly definitive in choice only to, equally rapidly – as they heard the selections of others – realise such a table was not as easy to compile as an order of drinks for the table we were being hosted at.

Brendan Behan once said that people come in two baskets; ‘Nurses & Invalids’, and that was never more apparent when listening to the voices and changing choices my fellow ‘pop pickers’ were visibly consumed by. I don’t know why I suddenly thought of this quote, but I do know this, it took me on a journey.

-o- 

Back when I was bordering on adolescent awareness, a friend of the family – a very accomplished fiddle player by the name of Tom Potts – came up to our house one Sunday evening to be recorded by my Dad.

It was a time in Ireland when traditional music was neither popular nor profitable and my old Man, (fancying himself as the Dublin George Martin looking for the next big thing), had cobbled together, in the front room, a recording set-up of an old Philips reel to reel, a solid state Sony amp, homemade speaker cabinets with highly magnetic cones attracted to feedback and a couple of battered mic’s he’d procured from a friend at the Olympia Theatre; ‘they’ll be grand Mattie, just a bit on the temperamental side, as you’d expect, given their age an all’.

With wires everywhere and pillows from every bedroom strategically placed to ‘baffle’, (whatever that meant), the whole thing became an exercise in endurance and excessive use of the vernacular – if we thought the annual ritual of putting lights on the Christmas tree was a trial, (in me Da’s frustration and bad temper), then we were in for a shocking reality that night.

Anyway .....

When the deed was done, the whole family was summoned to sit around the good table and take in a playback performance of the evening’s artistic industry. The tunes, to the best of my memory were ‘The Coolin’, ‘The Blackbird’ and ‘Saddle the Pony’.

Having just recently discovered David Bowie and The Velvet Underground I found the whole experience excruciating but, in the manner of beaten down social etiquette, made the appropriate gestures and noises of acclaim like the rest of the sheep comprising that limited audience.

As Tom was leaving, flushed and fulfilled in the role of recorded artist, he interrupted the farewells and asked for a minute while he got something out of his car. Returning he handed an LP to my Dad with the sentiment;

‘This is the sort of rubbish we’re up against Mattie, have a listen if you can bear it’ 

The album was not new – I later learned it was fifteen years or so old – and my Dad for no apparent reason did not feel inclined to share anything about it once he’d glanced at the title and artist, instead of which he tucked it under his arm and disappeared back to his ‘recording’ studio.

I asked my Mam later and she cautiously explained; ‘Daddy was going to listen to it first to make sure it was all right’.  

Curiosity being immediately piqued I countered with the obvious; ‘Why?’ 

‘Because the man who is on the record is someone your Daddy doesn’t trust to be heard by children’ 

As a 14/15 year old I didn’t consider myself a child and of course I was immediately on a mission.

-o- 

So here I was, being a touch mesmerised by my Spanish cafe society, congregated on a terrace of a small cafe on the border of Fuengirola, each and every soul enunciating well remembered classic albums with over-zealous eulogy and gentle critique in unequal measure – while all the while my head was back in the good room of the house I grew up in, remembering seizing the first opportunity to be alone into the evening to listen surreptitiously on BOSE headphones to the recordings of a man my Dad doubted as an artist and influencer.

And amid all the noise of luminaries from Mozart to The Beatles - along with everyone else, that deserve listing, being thrown in for good measure and reason – I was honestly lost to the surrounding conversation as I replayed in my distracted mind what I could remember from back then of - what is essentially - a drunken ramble in the unique voice of a Dublin, (and Dubliner), on the cusp of being changed and lost for better or worse.

-o- 

The record was produced in 1959 by a fella with the grand name of; Arthur Luce Klein and recorded by a less exotically titled engineer; Peter Hunt. The artist is Brendan Behan and there are, in total, fourteen songs, (or bits of songs anyway),  performed a-capella with a peppering of satirical and self absorbed comedic explanation and bar-room philosophy included for God only knows why - not the hint of a played instrument throughout.

-o- 

I made no mention of such a pleasurable guilty choice to my fellow reflectors as they collectively selected the great and good formally recorded released music has to offer – it just wasn’t the time nor the place.

However, I made it my mission, (again), to find this displaced memory online

Corinthia “Corrie” Bladewise

DnD OC

FIGHTER CLASS

Hotheaded Blonde Elf

City Elf (metallic skin condition)

Check out my post on Instagram:

https://www.instagram.com/p/CKpMM4VDwCU/?igshid=1skl27s3678k0

Gary Lightbody has lent his support to the Now We’re Talking campaign on mental health.

The Snow Patrol lead singer has recorded a video message emphasising the importance of developing a greater awareness in relation to mental health issues.

A year ago, Gary wrote very powerfully – and movingly –about his own battle with depression, in the first Now We’re Talking supplement, entitled 100 Voices on Mental Health – which was also published as part of he Hot Press Mental Health Special Issue.

“The thing that pulled me from the darkness was talking about it,” Gary wrote. “With close friends and then a therapist. Talking about the things that I have always been so afraid of saying out loud for fear of being rejected by my friends and family. I told them what had plagued my mind for years, and no one ran for the hills.”

The Now We’re Talking campaign, a partnership between Hot Press, Pieta House and Lyons Tea, first and foremost encourages people who are experiencing difficulties to talk about them, in just the way that Gary Lightbody described. The over-arching aim is to break the stigma surrounding mental health issues and ultimately to assist Pieta House in their vital work. Pieta House is Ireland’s leading suicide and self-harm prevention charity, with services in place across Ireland.

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In the video message, specially recorded over the past few days by Gary, he speaks again. "I had depression from when I was a teenager," he says, "and it was only in the last few years - in my late 30s - that I started talking about it. And it changed everything, it really did. My life got immeasurably better. I know how hard it is to talk about your personal stuff with people, it's almost impossible sometimes, and it feels like you're the only person going through it. But you're not."