Jivin' Jones Irish Rock Festival @ Willie McBride's, Hoboken
by Stephen Bailey
December 2, 2004

I've always been a supporter of the original music scene in Hoboben and NYC. I have to admit though that it can be a bit disconcerting to constantly walk into bars that separate the drinking and big screen TVs from the live music. Most of the time, if you don't already know that there is music somewhere in the building, you won't find out about it. So as I came thru the front door of Willie McBride's and noticed the front bar a bit empty, I was not expecting much to impress me about whatever crowd may be in the back room. Boy was I pleasantly surprised.

It's been a while since I've seen the back room here this crowded for original music. Although what I refer to as the "NJ Dance Floor Void" was in full effect. You know ... that 12 foot semicircle just in front of the stage that no one dares enter for fear of who knows what.

I don't know if Jimmy Carter is a fan of Irish rock, but he is surely happy tonight. The Irish Rock Festival was not only a celebration of some very fine music, but a charity event for Habitat for Humanity. In between performances were a series of raffles (of which I won zero).

I arrived late so I missed the first 2 acts Lancaster County Prison and Neck. Though judging from the constant shout outs from the remaining acts, I'm sure they rocked.

First up for me was Ice Wagon Flu. Well crafted tales spun thru high-energy tunes with a humorous twist. Complete with well synced choreography, tin whistle, washboard, bodhran, mandolin and nudity lurking in the wings.

After their set I told Kevin, (Gobshite on their website, who by the way put this whole Irish Rock Fest together, bless his heart) that their energy level tonight was thru the roof! Way more so than the last time I had seen them.

It was here at Willie McBride's They played that night along with some multi-media artists/drummer whose nonstop homage to Neil Peart, heavy stage smoke and borderline psychedelic video feeds were better remembered than the music itself.

Next up were The McCabes. Much more of a traditional sound. Fiddle and guitar blended nicely as they ran dual lines effortlessly. I both love and hate that. Love it because it's bloody amazing to watch someone do something so well. Hate it because I can't do it myself.

The band gives a musical nice, warm home to the songs of singer/songwriter Sean McCabe. Songs that blend traditional Irish and Country sensibility.

My one frustration in the night became more apparent at this point. The dance floor remained empty, though not for lack of inspiration. Some of the band members even made comments like, "hey, come a little closer, it's safe ... really."

OK I admit it ... it's tough to get me to dance too. I really don't know where the fear comes from. Is it because we're afraid that someone will laugh at us? Are we afraid we're gonna get hurt? No ... it must be the laughing bit. God knows the last thing you'd want to do is be seen in a bar, drinking AND having fun!!

At this point I was approached by a man seeking a cigarette. He proceeded to proclaim is undying love for Ireland. "I'm not Irish. I'm an I-ta-li-an Am-er-ic-an," he slurred. "But I love Ir-lan!! LOVE IT!!!. Been there like 7 or 8, 9 times. Idz bee-yoo-ti-ful...ya know?" As he swayed away, he thanked me for the smoke and began yelling at the stage, thrusting his fist in the air. He was a trip.

Nothing says Iris rock fun better than a wireless mic on a squeezbox. The Prodigals served up their own take on tradition with the bass player taking many of the arpeggiated riffs normally associated with the guitar, fiddle or whistle. Still, nothing on the bottom was lost and the boys remained on solid ground.

The last band was actually not on the bill. The Ruffians rocked the hardest with a definite punk aesthetic. It was an onslught of merciless loud electricity and a great way to end the night.

Hey! ... I got nailed in the foot with a plastic leprechaun!! I think my foot is bleeding...ah fuck it ... ONE MORE DRINK!!

The poor little guy got kicked around a lot despite efforts of patrons to protect him. I myself took a turn tossing him back into the heart of the rock n roll fervor.Sorry dude.

The Ruffians set ended with that scare of nudity creeping in again. Of course the whole point about guys singing about getting naked is for the ladies to actually do it. Did we really need to see these boys in their skivvies. Thankfully it ended at that point.

This was a very casual, fun- (and booze) packed night. Even though it was for charity, the lack of the outright preaching you'd see at many events was not missed at all. Cheers to Kevin and everyone else who had a hand in this. Ya' done good!!

There was a second night of fun at Connely's in NYC. I unfortunately could not be there.

Cheers,
Stephen

Related Links:
Irish Rock Festival
Lancaster County Prison
Neck
Ice Wagon Flu
The McCabes
The Prodigals
The Ruffians

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