His banjo is silent now, but this one is for Luke
COME Tuesday, Luke Kelly will be dead 34 years. He was undoubtably one of the finest exponents of the Irish ballad and when he threw back his head and opened his throat, his voice emerged, cool and crisp like a fountain of sparkling water. A man in Howth said Luke’s voice could take the froth off your pint at 20 paces.
That’s not to say he couldn’t be understated and emotional, as in his sensitive interpretation of Scorn Not His Simplicity and his politically angry version of The Town I Loved So Well.
Tonight in Vicar Street Dublin singer/songwriter Chris Kavanagh will sing a new song that I’ve written to celebrate one of the great Dublin characters of all time.
Luke Kelly’s voice was the sound of Dublin City
Our diamond bright, he sparkled as he sang
Down Sheriff Street which was his boyhood playground
Down along the Liffey’s banks it rang He was a man who gathered people to him.
And where he was, that was the place to be.
For he was young and there was no tomorow and the living and the singing they were free.
Luke had this extraordinary capacity to light up a room. His presence created a kind of electricity which permeated the atmosphere whether it was the Albert Hall or O’Donoghues pub.
A pint or two and soon he would be singing
And very soon he’d have the pub in thrall
As he closed his eyes and sang with passion
The workmen’s song he’d learnt from Ewan MacColl.
I was by no means Luke’s best friend, but I knew him well from gigging. He was at parties in my house and I was at parties in his abode, in Kenilworth Square. We knew each other drunk and sober.
Luke wasn’t po-faced and he showed his sense of fun when he played Herod in Joseph And The Amazing Technicolor Dreamcoat.
In writing this song, I tried to capture the nuances that were pure Luke. Instead of walkin’, he ‘sauntered.’ On the street, it was like a ‘royal progress’ for Luke and he was happy to return the salutations of all. Had he run for Lord Mayor, he’d have been a shoo-in.
HE was also the man who could ignite O’Donohue’s, even in the afternoon.
Out from McDaid’s down Stephen’s Green he’d saunter
His bright red hair as fiery as the sun
For friend and foe, he had a salutation
For he was royalty of a kind to everyone.
A few years ago I met Chris Kavanagh and his wife Hilary, Dublin singers and songwriters, who were touring a show called The Legend of Luke Kelly. Chris’s voice had a hint of Luke, but it was not an attempt at an impression.
However, he did Luke’s repertoire justice and I vowed there and then, that I’d try and write a song worthy of Luke.
So, for the first time, tonight in Vicar Street, Chris will sing Song For Luke. It is also a sell-out at the Cork Opera House, tomorrow. These two gigs are rare because they are two of the few gigs in our calendar where you can hear hundreds of people singing along on all the most popular ballads of our time.
It is a mighty sound.