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REVIEWS
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"Kirwan is a brilliant lyricist, with a narrative style reminiscent of Dylan" — RAMBLES "A thrilling addition to the heavyweight singer-songwriter class" — THE IRISH HERALD " the lyrics are full of political and cultural observations without being reduced to sloganeering or polemics." — AMAZON.COM "In the world Kirwan paints in his songs, characters wrestle with spirituality, political and personal revolutions" — THE NEWS JOURNAL "If you have any interest in rock, folk, or just plain damned good music, pick up a copy of Kilroy Was Here." — G21 POWERSOUND "When you've finished playing your Black 47 albums for the night, wind down with this." — THE IRISH EDITION "Always exciting and insightful, once again Larry Kirwan has given us much to think about. " — CELTIC BEAT "Telling a story is an art at which Kirwan excels" — C.P. WARNER "This record is a masterpiece that is filled with challenging music that demands your attention." — IRISH VOICE "This one is highly recommended for a wide range of listeners." — DAILY FREEMAN "This is art at it's highest form, straight from a man's soul and into the recorded format."— CHAOS REALM "As one song concludes and another begins, you'll find yourself pondering what you've just heard and unwilling to move on" — KEVIN McCARTHY
CHARLIE RICCI I'm not a big fan of singersongwriters. The genre is overpopulated by folks who play guitar while singing self-loathing confessional songs. Their recordings and live performances often feature sparse instrumentation with lyrics that are far more important than the melodies, harmonies and rhythms accompanying them. I have often wondered why they just don't become poets. Now, I'm not saying that lyrics are unimportant. Brilliant lyrics enhance any musical experience, and when the music and the lyrics mesh perfectly a song can be a truly moving experience. But I only listen to the lyrics of those songs because the overall sound of the music appeals to me. The most beautiful lyrics can be wasted if the music is not involving. Larry Kirwan's Kilroy Was Here, his first solo adult excursion (he previously recorded Keltic Kids for children) away from New York City's resident Irish rock band, Black 47, manages to be one of those rare instances when lyrics and music complement each other perfectly. One enhances the other. At no time does the music take a back seat to the wordy songs. This is not an easy feat. Kirwan is a brilliant lyricist, with a narrative style reminiscent of Dylan. But his words are surrounded by musical arrangements superior to much in the singersongwriter genre. While Kirwan wants you to notice his profound lyrics, he also wants the listener to take in a full musical experience. Don't expect this CD to sound like Black 47. No uilleann pipes or Irish folk instruments appear anywhere and while Kirwan and the musicians often get a good beat going, there is no hard rock, reggae or hip-hop to be found. Trumpets, acoustic guitars and strings predominate, with the musicians often giving the songs a jazzy texture such as on the "History of Ireland, Part One." Guest vocalist Suzy Roche adds beautiful vocals to the disc's opener "Molly." Particularly enjoyable is Black 47 sax man Geoffrey Blythe blowing a perfect solo on a cover of Paul Simon's "The Only Living Boy in New York." The musicianship is superb throughout. Despite the lack of an Irish sound to this disc there is no mistaking Kirwan's Irish roots on many of these tunes. In "Life's Like That, Isn't It?" he tells a story of a boy growing up in Catholic Ireland whose life events eventually cause the character to emigrate to America. (Is the little boy in this story the author?) On the "History of Ireland" Kirwan simply and chronologically tells us all about the tragic history of his homeland, but the bright, upbeat, playful arrangement seems to tell us that Ireland has maintained her pride and better days are ahead. Kirwan puts his multi-cultural experience of living in New York to good use on "Fatima," a story of an immigrant Muslim girl who falls in love with an American man. This grieves her father so much he laments that "Why didn't they tell him back home that things fall apart in America." The song ends with a sad but believable ending that often occurs in a place such as New York where different cultures live and work together but cannot fully understand each other. My favorite line on the entire disc is from "Spanish Moon," a song that is a commentary about poets trying to co-exist in the Spanish military dictatorship of the late Francisco Franco. Believing in the eternal power of the printed word Kirwan sings, " The poet lives forever, the general dies alone." These are serious songs from a serious rock musician who should be proud of his work even though most Americans will never hear a note from it. TOM CLANCY Larry Kirwan’s new solo album, Kilroy Was Here, is a thrilling addition to the heavyweight singer-songwriter class. He’s not exactly new, of course, having been around since 1989 with the hard-working, Irish American folk-rock group Black 47 from New York City. Kilroy Was Here is driven by the same energy and emotional honesty which pervades the recordings and live shows of Black 47. Kirwan is also a playwright with 10 plays to his credit including Liverpool Fantasy and the autobiographical The Poetry of Stone. Kilroy is heavily autobiographical too and is permeated by his memories of growing up in Wexford especially on tracks like Life’s Like That, Isn’t It? and Symphony in Blue. The best singer-songwriters have mastered the art of sketching in a world, telling a short story in a song. It is one of the requirements for traditional singing. As Joe Heaney put it, “..without the story, the song is lost.” Kirwan’s writing talent is so wide-ranging that the album contains not only short stories, but a novella, a new take on Ulysses, a farce, and a couple of screenplays. Kirwan’s voice is more that of a storyteller than a vocalist, but since these are his stories who better to tell them. His vocals are dramatic and engaging, with many theatrical touches. I catch echoes of Pierce Turner and early Chris De Burgh (the Wexford connection?) with traces of Dylan and definite flavors of the late, great Phil Lynott. The opening song, Molly, is a love song for Joyce’s best known heroine. The song is a wonderful, elaborate reworking of an old Woody Allen joke. In The Purple Rose of Cairo, a woman falls in love with a male movie character. She’s reprimanded by a friend who points out that her lover is fictional. Her response is, “Well, you can’t have everything.” The title track, Kilroy Was Here, is an enigmatic saga. The Black 47 website has been running a competition for the best explanation of the song. It is one of many songs on this album that will not readily divulge its secrets. Spanish Moon, is a tribute to Federico Garcia Lorca and Victor Jara, two poets who died at the hands of dictators. This moody, multi-layered song is swathed in a gorgeous instrumental arrangement which starts out in Miles Davis territory near Sketches of Spain and ends up with a Hendrix-infused, rapping poetic slam. The farce is the History of Ireland, Part I, which features Malachy McCourt in a wonderfully irreverent romp through all that oul history, including some hilarious speculation about what might have happened if the Catholics had backed King Billy for that event on the Boyne. Fatima is a potent song about a doomed affair between a Muslim girl and an oblivious American boy, who phones her during Ramadan. The telling refrain is, “Things fall apart in America.” Life’s Like That, Isn’t It? is one of the novellas, a rumination on a particular Irish childhood and adolescence which will resonate with many of us of a certain age. The county librarian worries about the youth’s reading habits, complaining to his mother, “All he wants is James Connolly and Patrice Lumumba.” The songs,
as you’d expect, are full of pointed, poetic lines: Only one song on the album was not written by Kirwan. Paul Simon’s Only Living Boy in New York gets a jazzy, brassy, vocal-driven treatment. Girl in the Rain is a delicate, string-based vignette that George Martin and those Liverpool lads would have loved. Walkin’ With Her God is a cinematic short about living with an addict, who spends time, “Listenin’ to Nick Drake again, playing Astral Weeks.” Kirwan was in San Francisco in March for a rare West Coast appearance. He played an outdoor concert in Washington Square and a gig at Foley’s. Kilroy was recorded completely in two days. Kirwan had intended to re-record the vocals but found that the first take was always better. He was confirming Christy Moore’s analysis that in music there is a “..downside to bags of theory and buckets of chords -the substance can be forgotten.” Kirwan’s album packs a poetic punch, and has buckets of musical and emotional substance.
SCHOLIAST Thoughtful, literate solo turn from Black 47 frontman Kirwan takes a break from his group, Black 47, for a lyrical and literate solo debut. Backed in large part by violin, trumpet and acoustic double-bass, the resulting eleven tracks provide an intimate emotional framework for Kirwan's lyrical excursions. He contemplates characters drawn from James Joyce ("Molly," with a guest vocal from Suzzy Roche), lends a celtic vocal twist to Paul Simon ("The Only Living Boy in New York City") and provides a condensed, tongue-in-cheek history of Ireland that evokes equal parts Dylan, British show tunes and New Orleans jazz ("History of Ireland, Part 1" and "History of Ireland (contd.)"). Kirwan's music is rooted in the same sophisticated mix as fellow countryman, Van Morrison. And while his lyrical pictures can be similarly moving (though not quite as mystical), his energy is more reminiscent of Bob Geldof in his Boomtown Rats days (with a dash of Bono's dramatics and Ray Davies' wit). What's most impressive is the smoothness with which his influences are synthesized. Kirwan's Irish roots are evident, but not the focal point. The sounds of acoustic and electric guitars sit comfortably beside trumpets that range from ragtime marches to jazz charts. Introspective, string-laden productions like "Girl in the Rain," match up nicely with upbeat tunes like "Symphony in Blue" (throwing off hints of Dexy's Midnight Runners). Similarly the lyrics are full of political and cultural observations without being reduced to sloganeering or polemics. Given his history with Black 47, the quality of his first LP isn't surprising. The range that the solo setting frees him to explore, and the creativity with which he does so, is a treat for both artist and listener.
THE NEWS JOURNAL - April 27, 2001 KENT
STEINRIEDE, Staff reporter Rocker blends
theater, music and life Larry Kirwan, the frontman for the Irish rock band Black 47, often tells his own story through the characters that people his songs. "I've never really liked the confessional style," he says. "I'm more interested in creating a parallel life." "Life's Like That, Isn't it?" is the centerpiece of Kirwan's new solo album "Kilroy Was Here" (Gadfly Records). In the song, an Irish boy grows up missing his absent father and turns to religion and revolution for guidance. He then finds thrills in girls, pubs and blaring guitar chords before he finally emigrates to New York. Kirwan has used much of his own life to create an even more dramatic tale. In the world Kirwan paints in his songs, characters wrestle with spirituality, political and personal revolutions and grope for whatever it is that makes people persevere through rough times. It's not far from the demi-monde Henry Miller created in his Tropics novels, or the darkness Graham Green described in his so-called Catholic novels. Kirwan, who plays The Point in Bryn Mawr, Pa., on Wednesday, credits an early commercial failure in the music business for leading him to narrative songwriting, a style mastered by only a few before him, including Bob Dylan and Leonard Cohen. Disgusted with the music business, Kirwan put down his guitar in 1985 and started writing plays and working in the theater. In 1994, "Mad Angels" (Seven Books, $10), a collection of five plays, was published, including "Liverpool Fantasy," which wonders what would have happened if The Beatles had flopped in their early days. Kirwan posits that the 1960s never would have "happened," and that Paul McCartney would have become a lounge singer. He is currently adapting the story for a novel. Yet music drew Kirwan back to the stage in 1989 when he and Chris Byrne launched Black 47 in an Irish pub in Brooklyn. After six albums and more than 2,000 shows, Black 47 is just finishing a much-needed hiatus, which has given Kirwan time to promote his solo CD. At The Point, Kirwan will host a one-man show that includes pieces of his "Rockin' the Bronx" musical, Black 47 tunes and songs from the "Kilroy" album. "It's an attempt to bring a play into a musical setting," Kirwan says.
BOB POWERS Black 47 has blended pop, folk and rock into a captivating brand of Celtic music that has won a large fan contingent. The Celtic group has something special about it, and most of that attribute comes from Larry Kirwan, the lead singer and songwriter. Kirwan's brand new album, "Kilroy Was Here" (Gadfly Records) could well become the major Celtic hit of 2001. Kirwan,
who sings in a couple of different voices, adds elements of the The album opens with Kirwan's beautiful ballad called "Molly," which details a man's obsession with another man's wife. This line sounds Dylanesque: "And all the critics are ravin' about you dissectin' you, inspectin' you, resurrectin' you."Suzy Roche adds a haunting backup voice that may give you goosebumps. Next comes Kirwan's superb version of Paul Simon's "The Only Living Boy in New York." The album's title song, "Kilroy Was Here," isn't the comic number you would expect. It's another story of love gone wrong, with Kirwan's voice demonstrating the haunting heartbreak of his lyrics. Malachy McCourt, former bar entertainer in New York, adds some curmudgeonly notes to Kirwan's funny "History of Ireland Part 1," a bitter tale told with irony and a sprightly beat. Kirwan is not only a musician, but a talented playwright. Those skills make his songs, whether telling his personal adventures or creating fictional characters. Kirwan's plays have found favor on the West Coast and in Europe. His play, "Liverpool Fantasy," tells what might have happened had the Beatles not made it. A production opens in April in Liverpool. Easily the
album's masterpiece is "Life's Like That, Isn't It?" All the
If you have any interest in rock, folk, or just plain damned good music, pick up a copy of "Kilroy Was Here."
THE IRISH EDITION - March 30, 2001 Jamie O' Brien Time for a little refreshment. Here's a neat album just right to brighten up your listening day. I have to confess a liking for Kirwan's songwriting abilities; his ability to describe everyday subjects (and sometimes, not quite so everyday) with a rare insight into the way people work and think. And I like
his voice: not the best from a technical point of view, perhaps, but certainly
one that is pleasing, engrossing and enjoyable - you can't help but listen. But perhaps
the best thing about this album is the musical arrangement. This is closer
to my everyday listening than Black 47, the great rocking band he fronts.
A powerful acoustic guitar and inventive bass anchor the instrumentation.
Brass, strings, keyboard, percussion and guitars (steel and electric)
weave
Ann Hazen Larry Kirwan must never run short on energy. He's lead singer and songwriter for Black 47, he's written and recorded a solo CD for kids of all ages (Keltic Kids), he's written plays which have been published in book form (Mad Angels) and at least one play has been produced. Now another solo CD, Kilroy was Here. Is there a book of poetry? I hope so! Kilroy was
Here is not your average Celtic/Irish CD. The sound is not Celtic, but
the subject matter certainly is. Molly, the first song on the CD is a
tribute to James Joyce's heroine. It's a haunting tale of love and frustration.
"History of Ireland, Part I" is unbelievable. It's done "Life's Like That, Isn't It" starts with a your boy in Ireland (Larry, perhaps) and follows as he matures into an adult in New York City. Each step along the road is a result of the previous one, very interesting..The immigrant experience is the "Heart of Fatima." Two cultures try to mix but because of ignorance about each other's cultures and traditions it's a disaster. The resulting conclusion is "things fall apart in America". Free speech versus Fascism in "Spanish Moon". Poets die at the hands of Government thugs in the name of religion, but Larry says "The poet lives forever, the General dies alone". Always exciting and insightful, once again Larry Kirwan has given us much to think about. Whatever he does next, one thing is for certain, it will be well worth reading or listening to. I hope the wait isn't too long.
I had just gotten home from a tough funeral, literally, and, feeling fragile, I opened my mailbox and breathed a sigh of relief. There was Larry Kirwan’s new CD, “Kilroy was Here”, waiting to be freed from its prison of corrugated cardboard. ‘Ah, yes,’ I thought. ‘Yes, yes, yes…’ I poured out a cup of coffee, exchanged the funeral duds for sweats and wool socks, located my trusty Walkman, and was ready to settle in. I have long been an admirer of Kirwan’s work, and while I knew this effort would be a good and noble one, there was no way I could have known just how much so, until I could listen alone and concentrate on the material. Telling a story is an art at which Kirwan excels, as I have learned from listening to his work with Black 47, and also from his excellent CD, “Keltic Kids”. “Kilroy was Here” is quite the stylistic departure from his previous work, with a brass section, fiddles, and guitar in tight ensemble. The songs are long enough to let the listener wallow, and poignant enough to inspire tears, and the overall effect is Magickal. There are touches of humor, too, namely the Dylanesque “History of Ireland, Part 1”. In places, I could almost swear I was listening to Bob, until Kirwan’s light brogue and charming inflections took over. Commentary interjected throughout by Malachy MacCourt is a treat: “…gettin’ Ollie Cromwell pissed off was not a good idea…” If I had to choose my favorite songs, I would have to go with “Molly”, “Kilroy was Here”, “Life’s Like That, Isn’t It?”, “Girl in the Rain”, “Spanish Moon”, and “Walkin’ With Her God”. “Molly” evokes images from James Joyce’s “Ulysses”, of course, and appears to be told from the point of view of Molly Bloom’s lover. (I say “appears” because, although I’ve been trying to read “Ulysses” for awhile now, I have not gotten far enough to say for sure.) The chorus is beautifully enhanced by Suzzy Roche’s backing vocals, and I am left wondering how any woman could resist such an eloquent plea: “Don’t go Molly/Don’t go darlin’/We can make it if we try/Don’t disappear back into him/ Don’t say goodbye” “Kilroy was Here” depicts the lonely, transient state of any World War II serviceman on leave, in search of a little companionship: the man who did not want to spend his furlough in some crowded, noisy bar. He finds what he is seeking, but must leave it behind, and is lonelier than when he started out, especially once he realizes that his companion will not wait for his return, but will forget him the moment someone more compelling comes along. The atmosphere feels like a foggy autumn night, stars and moon hidden by the vaporish cataract as a man in uniform wanders a deserted street. The bygone era I sense can only been seen in black and white, as in “Casablanca”. “On the quayside she waits, her face cold and ashen/Shiverin’ with fear, we used to call it passion” “Life’s Like That, Isn’t It?” sounds biographical, even confessional, but this is a style of writing that has always appealed to me. If the story of the boy’s acquisition of the guitar parallels how Kirwan got his first guitar, then we should all be thanking his father for being savvy enough to buy it. I can visualize every scene Kirwan sets in this song, especially the young boy with his guitar, “turning pain to music” as he plays for his parents and tries not to be jealous of his father. And how well he documents the boy’s conflict over religion: “The boy is religious, serves Mass at the Friary/He’s got a crush on St. Anthony/Got a hot date with him when he gets to Heaven/But it’s still hard to get up at twenty to seven/On a gale-force mornin’, slates hittin’ the streets/Exploding in smithereens all around him/He runs in fear past the deserted garden/Where a man hung himself, his soul ever after/Sentenced to roam in search of salvation” “Girl in the Rain” makes me think of Wuthering Heights. I may have the wrong literary reference entirely, but I am recalling that final time when Cathy runs after Heathcliff, into the wind and the rain, after he has oveheard that dreadful speech she makes to Nelly Dean: “It would degrade me to marry Heathcliff now.” As in that sad story, one senses the girl in the song cannot be comforted, no matter how gentle and kind her savior. The song is all the man’s plea to the woman, with no reply from her. “Hey you, girl in despair/Your lips so naked/I can feel every fear that you feel” This is a nice idea, but if I were the girl in question, I would wonder how any man, or any other woman, for that matter, could possibly feel exactly what I was in a moment like that. Fear and pain are such individual experiences after all. However, the man, “Edgar”, if you will, certainly deserves some credit for trying, and it makes for a beautiful song. “Spanish Moon” makes me want to look into the Franco era in Spain, and what sorts of things went on in that time. Kirwan speaks of “duende” in his essay about the CD, which he has posted on the Black 47 website (http://www.black47.com), but I am at a loss for what this might mean. There is a fiery fierceness to this song, though, which sounds to me like rebel spirits refusing to be conquered, and the poet Copernicus heightens this effect with his Spanish recitations throughout the piece. “The poet lives forever, the general dies alone/Barely the size of a greyhound/Listen to the bastard moan/As the priest croons Extreme Unction/Does he see the poet’s face/Shattered like a gypsy mirror/Cold threads in a spider’s lace/And the night screams/“Jesu Christi, what have you done/Spilt drops of blood on my Spanish Moon” “Walking with her God” describes the daily pain and frustration endured by the partner of a person in the grip of substance abuse. In “Josie’s” case, it is heroin, but it could be anything addictive, really. This one builds like a puzzle, pieces falling into place one by one until the shattering climactic verse: “She’s smiling at an angel/She’s noticed on the wall/And though it’s just a shadow/She’s named it Gabriel/She doesn’t hear a word I say/Though she agrees with everything/And when I’m gone she’ll rip me off/Just like she did last week/I’ve done everything but nail her to the floor/’Cause she’d rip the flesh off her bones if it would help her score” In all the songs, Kirwan conjures images that stay in the mind and haunt. Part of this is the sheer skill of his writing. The other part is his elegant delivery of the lyrics. His precise diction, combined with his natural instinct for cadence and rhythm, makes every syllable clear, but without affectation. He makes excellent use of the wide range of expression his voice is capable of, from the softest of whispers to cries of anguish. It is pure, melodic recitation at its finest. Congratulations on a job well done, both to Mr. Kirwan and to his wonderful backing band. “Kilroy was Here” is a truly splendid work.
MIKE FARRAGHER Solo
trip for Black 47's Larry Kirwan "Something demanded that I keep these songs separate. They seemed to call for a different touch, with a change in instrumentation. Also, there comes a time for everyone when you have to leave the comfort of your family to gain new experience." That's how Black 47 leader Larry Kirwan explains the motive behind the release of his first solo album, Kilroy was Here. The disc will hit the streets this week, and it will come as a shock to the system for loyal Black 47 fans. Gone are the reggae-tinged party vibes and rebellious anthems that is his band's trademark. You should be scared! The arrangements on Kilroy are sparse and atmospheric, with spooky reverbed guitars, trumpets and violins bracketing the gentle strum of an acoustic guitar. For his solo release, Kirwan has turned inward, emerging with some of the most personal lyrics that he's written in his long career. Have I scared you yet? You should be scared. This record
is a masterpiece that is filled with challenging music that With repeated listens, you'll find this to be Black 47 music for grown-ups, something to listen to on a Sunday morning after the boys in the band rock your world on a Saturday night. To make this grown up music, Kirwan had to dig deep into his past. "I was listening to Bob Dylan's Time Out of Mind, and it just blew me away. It really made me evaluate what I had done as a songwriter up until this point, and I had realized that I needed to go a bit deeper within myself." Modern-day Wexford sea-shanty Each song has shards of the singer's earliest memories of childhood woven into the lyrics. Life is Like That, Isn't It is the cornerstone of the album, and is easily one of the best songs that he's ever written. The mariachi horns that were so prominent on the records that his father brought home from trips to the tropics accompany Kirwan as he recalls waiting in anticipation for his father's return from the sea. "The boy is holding his mother's hand/in a seaside station/the streets are silent in the rain/naked and dead in their small town pain." "The town of Wexford permeates the album," he says. "Not the successful Wexford of today, but the one I remember. The grey, gloomy, rain-soaked , and lightning streets." Hilarious send-up The tracks
on this disc tell the story of an Irish transplant who Kirwan does a hilarious "send-up" of his reputation as an Irish history headmaster during "The History of Ireland, Part 1." With a farcical
trumpet line laced over a bouncy Brit-pop beat, he is The roguish Malachy McCourt, who dons a faux British accent and offers a campy reading of the British position, joins him on this track. Many Irish Americans learned about the oppressive British rule over the Irish people through the songs of Black 47, yet Kirwan dismisses his enormous influence on Irish culture with "The History of Ireland Part 1." 'Rock is supposed to be fun' "Rock is supposed to be fun," he says. "Who wants to see a guy up there preaching?" Kirwan will merge theater and rock when he tours in support of Kilroy Was Here. He will mingle songs from the new album into a one man play that's based on his "Rockin' the Bronx" stage production. He originally came up with this concept as he prepared to perform the songs that would make up "Kilroy" during a return to Wexford last year. "I wanted to get back out in front of an audience with just a guitar and see if I can do it the way I started off in Wexford," he says. I wanted to bring some of those drunken Sunday evening memories from Wexford back into rock & roll and, hopefully, merge the two worlds I'm a part of - theatre and music, once and for all." With the departure of founding member Chris Byrne and a lead singer who releases a fantastic solo album, some fans of the band may be worried that the end is near. "I have no intention of leaving Black 47," he says firmly. "A band only remains strong by constantly renewing it and challenging it with new ideas.
DAILY FREEMAN - March 16, 2001 Philip H. Farbe Rating: **** 1/2 (out of 5) Larry Kirwan is best known as the frontman for New York City's house band, Black 47, a group of Irish rockers who rock pretty hard with their brand of Celtic-meets-urban music. Kirwan has now released his first solo album, "Kilroy Was Here," which finds the singer/songwriter/playwright in a somewhat more introspective mood. "It's a bit more acoustic and has some jazz influences and (other) different influences," Kirwan said recently in a Freeman interview. "The main instruments are violin and trumpet, acoustic bass, and guitar, and organ. The songs are a lot to do with growing up in Ireland, memories." Indeed, the songs are wonderfully melodic and richly arranged, a significant departure from "Rocking the Bronx." Saxophones wail over tasty jazz riffs, background vocals harmonize beautifully, and Kirwan's distinctive voice is more restrained and even more evocative than ever. A few of Kirwan's cronies from Black 47 join him, along with some guest musicians who add a new level of musical exploration. Suzzy Roche contributes haunting vocals to two tracks, best- selling novelist Malachy McCourts adds a bit of spoken word, and Lisa Gutkin of the Klezmatics brings some Gypsy violin. Kirwan's lyrics range from the autobiographical to some touches of contemporary mythos. Along with 10 of his own songs is a very cool cover of Paul Simon's "The Only Living Boy in New York." Like Black 47, there's usually a fairly large number of musicians playing on each song, but in this case the overall effect is one of intricacy and restraint rather than out-and-out rocking. Also like Black 47, there are some rough edges in the production that reflect a real interaction between the musicians more than they do with a sanitized studio product. This one is highly recommended for a wide range of listeners. Kirwan is rightfully extending his musical range and may well appeal to a whole new audience with this recording.
Pick of the Week There can be no doubt that New York's BLACK 47 is one of the most original musical groups in the world. Incorporating Celtic, ska, Latin, reggae and an aggressive rock sound, coupled with strikingly vivid street-level and often politically-charged lyrics, to me they are one of the 2 or 3 best overall bands today. When B47's majority song-writer/vocalist/guitarist LARRY KIRWAN announced he had a solo CD coming out early this year, then, I reacted with great interest. At 43 years old, and after exposure to a lot of less-than-inspirational things in the music industry, I may like a lot of artists, but I don't have a whole lot of what I'd call heroes. LARRY is one. Besides fueling BLACK 47 with not only a command of history, but also a wonderful vision of the current status of Ireland and the world, KIRWAN happens to be, in my opinion, the finest lyrical craftsman working today. Add to that his impassioned vocal delivery and suffice it to say that I was more than ready for this CD. I was so ready, in fact, that on the day of it's release, I called probably 20 different music stores in Maryland, trying to see if anyone had enough gumption to order a copy. When faced with the fact that the only one that did was in Rockville, an hour-plus drive from my house, my problem was not deciding if I wanted to make the trek or not...rather, it was trying to get through the rest of the work day in anticipation! "Kilroy
Was Here" is not a BLACK 47 album, musically or lyrically, as it
should not be. However, that being said, this is just as hot and bristling
a disc as any the band has ever done. Musically, LARRY takes a road here
that does not incorporate the obvious Celtic overtones the way group efforts
do. Pipes do not play a role, for instance. However, the diversity is
still quite evident as instruments like pedal steel, Hammond organ and
various brass slide in comfortably to support the melodies so superbly
crafted. Lyrically, I don't believe I've ever heard KIRWAN more powerful
or poignant than on this record. Listen to him in the midst of an interpersonal
relationship struggle in the opener, the searing "Molly." "...And
I hold onto you till I see the panic in your eyes. You can hear him callin',
can't you? But you're my prisoner and this time I'm not gonna let you
disappear back into him." Be absorbed in the drama of the epic "Life's
Like That, Isn't It?" "...So he plays the tango, remembers his
Father, resolves to live life like Bogart, turn pain to music, sorrow
to laughter. Live for today, to hell with tomorrow. It started at the
station, waiting for his Father. One moment affects everything thereafter.
But life's like that, isn't it?" Feel the depth of knowledge and
the rich swath of feeling carved by "History Of Ireland, Part 1."
"...This Irish History is a pain in the arse. Poor old James Connolly
wouldn't know what to make of us. 'Cause now we're European, we get our
orders from Brussels, don't need no more of that Irish Republican muscle.
The ghosts of Pearse, Tone, Emmet and McDermott all waltzin' off into
a Celtic Tiger sunset." And the music supports, meshes and dances with these sincere lines from a golden pen, as LARRY's voice floats above, through and around, so full of feeling, bursting at the seams with the very zenith and nadir and all levels of emotion in between. This is art at it's highest form, straight from a man's soul and into the recorded format. Where most would have to take their thoughts, their fears, their love and hate and find a way to struggle to express them, LARRY KIRWAN's burst forth on this record in as stark and breathtaking a relief as the black & white photo of the man at the train station on it's cover. A shoe-in for one of the very top albums of 2001.
CELTIC & FOLK CD REVIEWS - March 1, 2001 Kevin McCarthy It is very
rare for a CD to require listening instructions. This is such a Kirwan frames his characters with unusual depth and imagery, and delivers his stories in a spoken and sung, emotion-laden pitch. As one song concludes and another begins, you'll find yourself pondering what you've just heard and unwilling to move on. You may not necessarily feel good after listening to the various cuts but you'll feel more. The lead singer for the celtic group Black 47, Kirwan primarily utilizes an acoustic setting with this release. But this is not a man, his guitar and a plethora of pretty melodies. The music here may be somewhat atypical for folk status as trumpet, double bass, violin, trombone and more embellish each song's setting but, nonetheless, it's exhilarating as these mini-operas prod, provoke and release the imagination. His opening song, "Molly," recalling James Joyce's Molly Bloom character, brings to mind the Ralph Fiennes-Julianne Moore-Stephen Rea relationship in Graham Greene's book-turned-movie, "The End of the Affair." An intense, obsessive, messy love quagmire is painfully and dead-on depicted in the most powerful cut on the release. But "Girl in the Rain" isn't far behind. Its sensuality will make you want to hit the pause button and grab your partner for a little CD interruptus. A musical Cliff Notes of Irish history is provided in "History of Ireland, Part 1" and "History of Ireland continued." Kirwan travels from Strongbow's times to today's Ireland, often tongue-in-cheek but also with enough of an edge that keeps the listener off balance. He closes with: "...Poor
old James Connolly wouldn't know what to make of us Family dynamics, religion, politics, love and revolution all collide in the drama "Life's Like That, Isn't It." Upon his father's return from sea, the young boy in the story, still firmly immeshed in religious instruction, sees his parents dancing in the kitchen and the thought appears: "...Father and Mother are sublimely goin' to hell..." The (biographical?) twisting-and-turning journey Kirwan has the youth take into adulthood is mesmerizing. Kirwan intertwines
poets Federico Garcia Lorca and Victor Jara with Set in the
U.S., "Fatima" depicts a budding interracial relationship Anyone indifferent to this release just isn't paying attention and should return as quickly as possible to the Britney Brigade.
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