Class, a word not often seen in the press these days, let alone in the music press.
And yet rarely is a mention made of Damien Dempsey, the 29-year-old singer/songwriter from Dublins Northside, without the words working class following closely behind.
Damien is certainly a rare commodity, an artist who writes songs dealing with the hard side of Dublin life (Daily Mirror) and yet, someone who has also achieved double-platinum sales and a No.1 album.
Damien is one of a number of artists whove gradually begun to break the stranglehold that manufactured Boy Bands and Pop Idols had put around the Irish record industry in recent years.
He has shunned what he calls this McDonalds music and the norm of singing in a transatlantic drawl by keeping true to his roots and retaining his own distinctive Dublin accent.
Like Christy Moore, one of his heroes who has now become one of his fans, Damien is not afraid to comment on the social and political issues that affect his people, his community.
This one-man voice for the struggles of the Irish working classes, as The Guardian labelled him, sings of estates plagued by drugs, the consequences of Irelands Celtic Tiger economy, of Gentrification, of Colonialism, of Sectarianism, about how children endured rape and torture in the countrys Industrial Schools, of life and even love.
And yet, while Damien is often dealing with heavy-duty subject matter, hes never depressing. His songs might make you angry, they might make you think but ultimately theyre about lifting your spirits a Dempsey song never wallows in self-pity.
Of course, musical taste is a purely subjective thing one mans heaven is often anothers earache.
But Id defy anyone not to see Damo where hes at his best, live, and not be moved by the sheer power, passion and warmth of his performance.
A welcome antidote to all the McDonalds music out there.
SING ALL OUR CARES AWAY
Mary loves the grouse, hides the bottles round the house,
Watches chatshows and the soaps, broken-hearted but she copes,
Michaels out of work, feels hes sinking in the murk,
Hes unshaven and a mess, finds it hard some days to dress
Stevie smashed the delf, cos he cant express himself,
Hes consumed by rage, like his Father at his age
Ritas little child, has a lovely little smile,
This means nothing to her father, because hes never even seen her
We sing, sing all our cares away
Well live, to fight another day
Joeys off the gear, hes been clean for half a year,
He gets bored out of his mind, but hes tryin to toe the line
Maggies in a chair, twas joyriding put her there,
She puts the kettle on the boil, and shes always got a smile
We sing, sing all our cares away,
Well live, to love another day
We grow strong, from it all
We grow strong, or we fall
D.Dempsey
(from the album SHOTS)
GHOSTS OF OVERDOSES
Famine days, drove us here, off the land
They told us to clear, now they drive you
From the cities, to make way for all the Yuppies
They stood back, and didnt act
Those in power should have been sacked
Decimate the inner cities, move them out, bring in the wealthy
Hey little baby, I wanna take you from here
I wanna take you away from here
Hey little baby, dont wanna see you on the gear
Cos its so hard to find your way back
Hey little baby, its every parents worst fear,
For their child to end up on smack
There was pills, and there was tabs
There was pain, and needle jabs
And the ghosts of overdoses
Replaced the ghosts of tuberculosis
There was dust, and there was liquid
You could buy, for just a few quid
And escape out of the jungle
To return and crawl and stumble
You lie, I cry, Please dont go
Now I walk, along these streets,
All the ghosts, they walk their beats
Up to flats, and into stairwells,
Where they lie, in heroin hell
Little kids, they walk right through them,
I just hope they dont become them
Class, a word not often seen in the press these days, let alone in the music press.
And yet rarely is a mention made of Damien Dempsey, the 29-year-old singer/songwriter from Dublins Northside, without the words working class following closely behind.
Damien is certainly a rare commodity, an artist who writes songs dealing with the hard side of Dublin life (Daily Mirror) and yet, someone who has also achieved double-platinum sales and a No.1 album.
Damien is one of a number of artists whove gradually begun to break the stranglehold that manufactured Boy Bands and Pop Idols had put around the Irish record industry in recent years.
He has shunned what he calls this McDonalds music and the norm of singing in a transatlantic drawl by keeping true to his roots and retaining his own distinctive Dublin accent.
Like Christy Moore, one of his heroes who has now become one of his fans, Damien is not afraid to comment on the social and political issues that affect his people, his community.
This one-man voice for the struggles of the Irish working classes, as The Guardian labelled him, sings of estates plagued by drugs, the consequences of Irelands Celtic Tiger economy, of Gentrification, of Colonialism, of Sectarianism, about how children endured rape and torture in the countrys Industrial Schools, of life and even love.
And yet, while Damien is often dealing with heavy-duty subject matter, hes never depressing. His songs might make you angry, they might make you think but ultimately theyre about lifting your spirits a Dempsey song never wallows in self-pity.
Of course, musical taste is a purely subjective thing one mans heaven is often anothers earache.
But Id defy anyone not to see Damo where hes at his best, live, and not be moved by the sheer power, passion and warmth of his performance.
A welcome antidote to all the McDonalds music out there.
SING ALL OUR CARES AWAY
Mary loves the grouse, hides the bottles round the house,
Watches chatshows and the soaps, broken-hearted but she copes,
Michaels out of work, feels hes sinking in the murk,
Hes unshaven and a mess, finds it hard some days to dress
Stevie smashed the delf, cos he cant express himself,
Hes consumed by rage, like his Father at his age
Ritas little child, has a lovely little smile,
This means nothing to her father, because hes never even seen her
We sing, sing all our cares away
Well live, to fight another day
Joeys off the gear, hes been clean for half a year,
He gets bored out of his mind, but hes tryin to toe the line
Maggies in a chair, twas joyriding put her there,
She puts the kettle on the boil, and shes always got a smile
We sing, sing all our cares away,
Well live, to love another day
We grow strong, from it all
We grow strong, or we fall
D.Dempsey
(from the album SHOTS)
GHOSTS OF OVERDOSES
Famine days, drove us here, off the land
They told us to clear, now they drive you
From the cities, to make way for all the Yuppies
They stood back, and didnt act
Those in power should have been sacked
Decimate the inner cities, move them out, bring in the wealthy
Hey little baby, I wanna take you from here
I wanna take you away from here
Hey little baby, dont wanna see you on the gear
Cos its so hard to find your way back
Hey little baby, its every parents worst fear,
For their child to end up on smack
There was pills, and there was tabs
There was pain, and needle jabs
And the ghosts of overdoses
Replaced the ghosts of tuberculosis
There was dust, and there was liquid
You could buy, for just a few quid
And escape out of the jungle
To return and crawl and stumble
You lie, I cry, Please dont go
Now I walk, along these streets,
All the ghosts, they walk their beats
Up to flats, and into stairwells,
Where they lie, in heroin hell
Little kids, they walk right through them,
I just hope they dont become them
D.Dempsey
(from the album SEIZE THE DAY)