During a reworking of this website a few weeks ago, I took a look at the layout of my blog, and realized that the comments section was actually working.  And so to complete my slide into self-indulgence, I thought I would answer some of the questions, say thanks for the compliments, and debate the cantankerous.

Marie, Sherry & others, re. 54-40 - It was interesting how many readers of our site had been at the late-90s show in Guelph I spoke about in this entry. We played over 150 gigs that year – that particular Stardust Picnic was memorable for many reasons, our performance being none of them. I am happy you are all still around, and doubly pleased that so many of you realized just how stunning 54-40’s performance really was. Even now I can see Neil Osborne Standing onstage in front of the mic during the sudden hurricane, the wind & rain blasting him like a fire-hose, and him just blinking, a little irritated, like someone standing next to a smoky campfire.

Todd & Ana, re. Bothy Band – Todd took exception to my suggestion that the title of ‘The Maids of Mitchelstown’ somehow related to the actual mood of the pieces. I realize that the two are probably unrelated, in the sense that the jig ‘Auntie Mary’ does not really refer to someone’s mother’s sister. On the other hand, to me it makes a kind of poetic sense. As always, it’s all about the context, isn’t it - once you have decided on what the tune means, you tend to make the title fit that emotion. I do anyway. I am not sure when and why I decided that ‘The Maids’ is the epitome of quiet despair, but now I am firmly convinced.  For her part, Ana linked the tune (albeit obliquely) to Led Zeppelin. I think she has something there: Zeppelin were well aware of bands like the Bothies, and made no secret of their admiration. Listen to the bass and guitar solos in ‘Ramble On’ sometime, and you will hear exactly what I mean. There is a loneliness and sadness in that song that comes from the same place as the Bothy Band.

To Anne in Philly, re: the Tannahill Weavers – I have never actually seen the Tannahill Weavers live, and I have had lots of chances. To be honest, I am afraid I will not like them. As I have fallen in love with the performance of many a band whose records I have disliked, so have I been disappointed in the performance of many bands whose albums I loved. For that reason, I have decided to let my love for the Weavers go unrequited. There should always be some mystery in life.

Rabellka, re. Cornershop – Your comment has left me confused; do you agree, that (a) a bosom makes a useful pillow,  (b) Ben Ayres should learn to love St. John’s, and/or (c) Fatboy Slim’s remix of ‘Asha’ is a thousand times better than the original? Actually, all options are acceptable, I suppose.

Hangin Johnny, re. Ryan’s Fancy – Johnny wondered why the Newfoundland Irish band Ryan’s Fancy’s albums are so hard to find. Unfortunately, most of their records were recorded for the Audat/Boot label, a Toronto based label that released many Newfoundland and other Canadian folk records in the 1970s and early 80s. The label went bust some time ago, and took the band’s catalogue with them into bankruptcy oblivion. Various corporately wobbly labels have purchased the band’s masters and re-released Ryan’s Fancy albums from time to time, but they do so without permission, paying any royalties, or otherwise acknowledging the band’s efforts. For that reason, we encourage you to buy ‘Songs From The Shows’, the only album from which Dennis, Fergus, and Dermot’s family receive any recompense.

Dave & Frank, re. The Killers -  Dave helpfully suggested that if I was such a fan of Franz Ferdinand and The Killers I would like alt-country heroes Son Volt. It is an interesting suggestion – I cannot see any similarity at all. On the other hand, to me there is an obvious connection between every artist discussed in my blog. Which goes to my over-arching theme – songs reach us in funny ways, and therein lies the mystery and the beauty of it all. Dave sees the Killers and Son Volt as coming from the same place, while I see the Killers and the Dubliners as equal parts artistry and gutter. We are both right.  Frank asked, apropos of nothing, if it was me his wife had glimpsed recently in a Bahamas pub. While I travel widely, I was not in said pub. On the other hand, in the past couple of years, I have been recognized at an ice-cream truck in Rome, loitering outside a dollar store in Nice, in a ticket line-up at Disney World, and while standing at a urinal in Galway. All four of these people were utterly astonished when I agreed that I was, in fact, myself.  My larger point being, while in Frank’s situation, it was not the case, it was entirely possible. Frank’s wife should have asked.

Z, re. Shanneyganock – Z, a little churlishly perhaps, wondered if as producer of an album, my own perceptions of what was valuable about the band outweighed theirs. The answer is an unqualified yes. In my experience, an act hires a particular producer because they wish to avail of their ears and ideas. If Shanneyganock did not want to listen to me, or agree with my suggestions, they had the option of hiring someone else, doing it themselves, or ditching the song. GBS has had several producers. Some we liked, some we didn’t. Regardless, each one was hired based on their proven ability to bring ideas, arrangements, sounds, etc., to the table, elements which we were unable to create ourselves. My assumption is that anyone who hires me desires the same. Otherwise, why bother?

Anonymous, via an e-mail – Sometime ago, I received an email from a reader who declared this whole exercise to be pompous in the extreme. Again, I offer an unqualified ‘yes’. Unless you are solving cancer or something, every blog is an exercise in self-indulgence. I am talking about my records, after all, with the underlying assumption being that my opinions about them have some value to the world at large. What could be more pompous than that?