MARCH 1975 ...THE CHIEFTAINS PLAY THE ALBERT HALL
MARCH 17
Jo Lustig was many things to many people. A Brooklyn-born New Yorker, he could be tough and exuded little patience with those he felt were wasting his time. But he loved music and wanted the best for the singers and musicians he represented. He’d been around, garnering press for a range of stellar entertainers that spanned Miles Davis, Nat ‘King’ Cole, Dave Brubeck and others of equal stature. He’d even had an association with Jack Kerouac at one point. But it was the link with Nat Cole that changed his life. He accompanied Cole on a trip to Britain in 1960 and fell in love with the place. Soon after, he relocated to London, where he had notable success promoting Julie Felix and gaining Nico her first recording contract. By 1969 he was established as manager of The Pentangle, then moved to advance the careers of Ralph McTell, Steeleye Span, Richard Digance and Richard And Linda Thompson. While attending the Midem music industry get-together at Cannes in early 1975, Lustig met Paddy Moloney, leader of Irish semi-pro band The Chieftains. The band had been founded by uilleann piper Moloney in 1962 when he got together with fiddler Martin Fay, flautist Michael Tubridy, tin whistle virtuoso Seán Potts and bodhrán player David Fallon, intending to record a one-off instrumental album. However, The Chieftains decided to continue making music whenever their regular jobs would allow, with all-Ireland fiddle champion Seán Keane joining their ranks and Peadar Mercier eventually replacing Fallon. During 1973 the band had released The Chieftains 4, a superb, imaginatively packaged album, on Claddagh, a label for which Moloney was managing director. For Chieftains 4 Paddy added the sound of the harp, played by Derek Bell, a classically trained harpist from Belfast who’d joined the group in 1973. The album featured Mná Na h Éireann (Women Of Ireland) an original composition by Seán Ó Riada, arranged by Paddy Moloney in a style that grabbed international attention. Another of its assets was a sleevenote by Peter Sellers, which explained how he, while living in a house in Kildare, introduced Spike Milligan to Moloney. “Out comes Paddy’s whistle,” wrote Sellers, “and he blew magic into the room. Jigs, airs, reels… the party ended early – about 3.30am. I still have some of it on a tape recorder…” The Chieftains’ music sparked an idea in Jo Lustig’s fertile mind. He felt that he could provide the band with international acclaim if they would only turn professional. Paddy Moloney was sceptical. The band all had steady day jobs, music was just for fun. But Lustig persisted: “OK,” he said to Moloney, “I’ll book you a great venue – the Royal Albert Hall.” The Chieftains had been expecting a club date or something less daunting. “We couldn’t play anything of that size,”
maintained Moloney. But the New Yorker was now in full promotional stride, attempting to grab every last vestige of publicity in order to fame-push the Irish band. He returned to Paddy Moloney with a deal: “If I can sell out every seat in the hall, will you turn professional and have me as your manager? ” Moloney thought carefully; he doubted the band could fill the 6,000 seats. If the performance was played to a half-empty venue it could prove embarrassing, or even mean the end of the band. Even so, following further discussions with his fellow Chieftains, Moloney agreed to perform at the famed venue, on St Patrick’s Night. That evening, despite doubts, the hall was packed, with MC John Peel explaining, “When they play a sad song it will bring a lump to your throat and when they play a bright dance, you’ll have difficulty keeping your seat.” Robert Shelton, writing in The Times, reported, ”The band sidled into a semicircle of seats, suggesting several tribal leaders about to ruminate over affairs of state. And off they went on an evening of insuperable national music. The Chieftains are without parallel, seven musicians so steeped in a tradition of airs, jigs, hornpipes, reels and hooray songs that all they can do is evoke green travelogues in the eye and ear.” It was a triumph for both The Chieftains and Jo Lustig, who not only signed a deal for Island Records to distribute the band’s records, but also persuaded the band to provide incidental music for Stanley Kubrick’s award-winning film Barry Lyndon. And, when all the smoke had cleared, The Chieftains were named group of the year in the Melody Maker’s Readers’ Poll for 1975, beating the likes of The Rolling Stones and Led Zeppelin.