Celtic Cross‘s, 40 Shared of Blue, is the first track released from the up coming Black 47 tribute, After Hours – executive produced by Peter Walsh of The Gobshites and Larry Kirwan of Black 47.
We’re very excited at Shite’n’Onions castle to hear that there is a Black 47 tribute in the works. The tribute is being compiled by lead Gobshite, Pete Walsh and will be digitally released on the Valley Entertainment label. Contributions so far include:
Bangers & Mash
The Jonee Earthquake Band
and those Gobshites
The Beachcomber is really my kind of bar, having a mix of all the right ingredients for a perfect dive; including a multi-decade history of Irish and Celtic-inspired entertainment, a cheap and crappy pizza that was the best food on earth at a blurry 11:30 PM, and a decent stage area that can hold a larger band of six or seven.
And it was that stage was the whole point of the evening. A four-band bill with Neck headlining could’ve been held anywhere and turn out awesome. It just so happens that it was here, and it did.
The show opened with The Swaggering Growlers who set the pace for the evening with some good energy despite the fact that the audience was still arriving. Their set was comprised of some material from forthcoming recordings, some covers, and a decent-sized handful off of their (highly recommended, by the way,) CD, “THE BOTTLE AND THE BOW,” including two of my favorites off of that release, “Greetings (from the Unemployment Line,)” and “Dover Tenement.”
The following act was The Beantown Boozehounds, who I was unfamiliar with prior to the evening. Their sound was a far more straight-ahead punk sound with dalliances into the Celtic influence only on a few songs and due almost solely to the inclusion of the mandolin by one of the band’s two guitarists. Each song the band played came off tight, solid and rockin’ and as the crowd had grown considerably by this set, (to include a number of obvious fans of the Boozehounds, regurgitative and rowdy,) they upped the ante of the evening further.
The third act of the evening was The Gobshites, who, (after a bit of mopping up of the sprayed beverages from a particularly demonstrative Boozehounds fan,) took the stage as if they owned the place. Their noise was huge and wide with a full-boat of trad. instruments and a big bag of variety about their songs. I knew that the band toured furiously, but I hadn’t seen a full set from these guys before. I was fully impressed.
By the time Neck came on, it had already been a great night. Mr. O’Keeffe and co. sounded the balls as they tore through some stuff from their awesome SOD ‘EM & BEGORRAH, (“I Turn My Face to the Four Winds,” and “Every Day’s St. Patrick’s Day,”) as well as material from some earlier recordings, (like “Topless Mary Poppins” and “Hello Jakey!,”) some songs from a forthcoming release, (“Come Out Fighting” and “Ourselves Alone,”) and some impossible-not-to-include songs, (like “Star of the County Down” and “Everybody’s Welcome to the Hooley.”) The band even threw out a bit of the ol’ céilí music for a professional step dancer in the audience, (the sister of yours truly,) if only for a moment or so. Had a survey been taken at the end of the night, everyone in attendance would have agreed the evening was one metric shitload of fun all around.
As one of the biggest, and most highly regarded and respected bands in the genre, a Neck show is not one to be missed. This show was no exception. All the supporting acts were in excellent sound and Neck kicked some serious arse. Everybody was great, approachable, and ego-free, and I had a fantastic night with a few pints of black, meeting some new friends and hearing some of the best music made.
Review by Christopher P. Toler, THE Blathering Gommel
Don’t be fooled by the name – The Bulfinch Yacht Club is a pretty cool rock club. A good size room, decent stage (though built for regular 4 piece bands not 8 piece celtic punk bands so all the bands were a little cramped playing) and nice sound system. The people who run the place were pretty cool as well. Some of you might remember the place when it was The Irish Embassy back in the 90’s were Black 47 would play on a regular basis
First up on stage were old friends The PubCrawlers, who despite being one member short (the mandolin player – though I almost think there wouldn’t have been room on stage anyway) played a real solid set. The band has had a few line up changes since last time I saw them including adding new vocalist Ron. Ron has added a much stronger Street Punk/Oi feel to the band which I think is the right direction for them.
BibleCodeSundays were next and by the time they came on the club was pretty full – not bad for Good Friday – the band lined up straight across the stage with drummer Carlton kicking up a huge storm from behind and with big smiles on their faces, great songs (both from the debut CD and from the forth coming release) and musically a tight as the proverbial ducks ass BCS kicked the shit outta the audience. The crowd swelled forward and they made a hell of a lot of new friends in Boston
Much thanks to Pete from the Gobshites for being part of the night. Peter played a solo show across town earlier so it was really cool of him and The Gobshites to play. The Gobshites were their usual fun selves and treated every one to a great time – I’d have a fuller review but by the time The Gobshites came on I was totally shit faced but that’s the point of going to a Gobshits gig anyway, isn’t it?.
Review by Mustard Finnegan
I looked down just about every bottle of beer that was put in my hand, all the way to the bottom and did not find her anywhere. For three days we looked and she just wasn’t at the bottom of any of my glasses, where could she be?
I did find the Gobshite himself Pete Depressed wandering around all weekend looking to, he couldn’t find her either. We sat and talked it over, he convinced me to start my own band and actually be in it instead of just managing it. I told him I can’t remember lyrics to save my life, he said he was the same way when he got his start, yeah but has no one heard of you can’t teach a old dog new tricks and I’m the oldest dirtiest mangiest mutt out there. So after convincing me I decided that I couldn’t be distracted anymore and move on to the other side of the bar thinking I saw Clare over there. Well when I got to that side of the bar she wasn’t there but my old bag squeezing friend Joe from Black 47 was there hanging out with P2. Himself and I looked down a few bottles for her while we regaled days of old. We still couldn’t find her for the life of us.
Well finally Icewagon Flu got off the stage, and I was sure they would know, but at last after grabbing more bottles and searching down the one they was sure she would be, she once again eluded us. My brother was sure the shooter girls would know and pursued them for the truth rather vigorously, they didn’t know and he paid for his interrogation in the morning for sure, with memory loss, extreme loss of motivate to continue the hunt early, and strange unexplained headaches.
As The Gobshites played I was too distracted to look, as I felt compelled to sing along to there haunting love ballads and sweet classical music. Still riding on the high of such a great energy filled live set from Icewagon Flu, the Shites were able to step it up even one more notch. I’ve always said it’s not really how good the band plays there instruments, but how well they play the crowd, and this weekend showed why these particular bands are the top of the music scene for sure. But I digress, this is a hunt for Clare and I can’t be distracted!
I return to the bar with the indifferent and not to helpful bartenders opened a couple bottles that I might be where I’d find her, but no luck, I’ll just have to keep looking, but wait who’s on now? That old blond haired leprechaun in green shoes just jumped up wailing on his guitar, this could be interesting. All this determined searching for Clare also pulls me towards distraction after continuously being disappointed of not finding her. So I decide to get around me a good group of folks and chat up the dealings of the weekend and listen to that ever popular Black 47 organized noise. Joe was up there squeezing has bag in front of everyone in between swigs from a mystery bottle.
As they start pouring them off stage, I thought the night was just about over as my search and rescue funds were running really low, my brother and I were feeling a little odd as if there was some sort of narcotic like alcohol injected into our veins. It seemed that we were never going to find this mystery woman Clare. We began at that time to say our goodbyes.
Then as if the lighthouse shining through the fog giving us bearings, there she is right up on the stage the Gobshites were just on two hours ago! She was with the Jackdaw guys all night; boy was it worth the wait. They were a great bunch of lads and they even played a song about her that is still stuck in my head. I stayed and said the hell with the search and rescue funds, and drained them rabidly ready to stumble back to the tent, I’m sure we’ll find her again in the morning.
Review by Therover413
First off thanks to Kristen MadCat for going to the trouble of and taking the risk putting together the Punk Rock Fleadh, the Boston stop was a great success and hopefully the other gigs were similar and fingers crossed more will follow.
First up taking the low stage of McGanns were the New Hampshire/Southern Maine based the Pubcrawlers who played a short, powerful set of traditional standards and original compositions that got the growing crowd warmed up and scared off anyone that shouldn’t have been there. The Skels after some prompting were good enough to join them on stage during Finnegan’ Wake. The Pubcrawlers have always shown big promise on their demos and live they keep that promise. My biggest problem with the demos was always the vocals, yet live vocal man, Kevin hits the nail on the head every time.
The Gobshites followed and staying true to their name they were a bunch of Gobshites. The singer (Pete, I think) is a seriously funny bastard and the music as hoot even with the out of tune fiddle. The set started with the Pogues, “Streams of Whiskey” and ended with “Frigging in the Rigging” and in between we were treated to jokes, silly songs all given the acoustic-Celtic-hardcore treatment, a little rap also given the acoustic-Celtic-hardcore and Andy from the PubCrawlers reading a limerick.
Next up taking the stage were NYC’s The Ruffians who made a grand entrance through the audience marching behind the most colorful bagpiper I’ve ever seen. The set was tight Irish influenced Rock’n’Roll what would be closer in sound to say the Prodigals then the Dropkick Murphys. My biggest complaint was the over-distortion of the guitars during the first couple of songs.
I’m considering suing Jackdaw for terminal damage to my hearing – I’m writing this 3 days later and my ears are still ring – it only took two days for my head to stop pounding- I suing Guinness on that one. These guys just blew me away. I heard both of their CD’s through a friend who was raving about them and neither impressed me particular (I’m going to be checking them out again.) But live they were unbelievable, tight as the proverbial ducks arse or more correctly AC/DC’s rhythm section. Actually someone described them to me after the set as AC/DC with bagpipes though I’m more inclined to go with a Celtic Wall of Sound description. They certainly impressed me and a sizable section of the crowd who whipped up a serious pit – not bad for a band who were completely unknown in Boston before their set. Hopefully they come back soon and if you ever get a chance check’em out. One issue though and that’s the Bagpipers kilt was too short – never wear a Kilt above the knee, people start to ask funny questions about you.
The Skels headlined and I hate to say this but I had to fuck off home after 3 songs – I’m sure the Skels were their usual selves and gave a riot of a show (the new CD is the fucking business but you know that anyway).
September 15, 2011
John Curtin is the drummer Tin Whistle and Bodhran play for The Gobshites (and a stand-up comic but not with The Gobshites – that’s Pete Walsh’s gig). John posted recently on his blog, “This Is Not A Rant”, an non-rant about the Shamrock-N-Roll Festival stop in Bangor where The Gobshites played – I thought it would be cool to post as a review of the show and an insider view of what was going on. So, in John’s own words……
This weekend was pretty exciting. The Gobshites played Shamrock-N-Roll Festival in Bangor, Maine with headliners Dropkick Murphy’s, as well as Stiff Little Fingers, Street Dogs, the Mahones, Chuck Ragan, and the Parkington Sisters. We were part of the local band “Undercard” that included Pubcrawlers, Bar Stuards, Beantown Boozehounds, and the O’Tooles. Our set wasn’t until 3PM, but we had to be there at 10 in the morning, which meant leaving the house at 5. Ah, the life of a rock star. Due to a couple of last minute cancellations, I ended up playing drums (And a HUGE thanks to the O’Tooles for letting us use their kit. Lifesavers, so y’are!), and we borrowed Travis from the Pubcrawlers (Another big thank you) to play tin whistle.
It was a long day, but boy was it fun. The local bands hung out in the field behind the “B” stage, and it was like a cookout without the grill. Everyone brought their amber-colored liquid of choice (mine, of course, was iced tea), and Jess went into teacher mode and organized the snacks along with the Pubcrawlers’ ladies (Who brought sandwich making materials. We brought plenty of crunchy stuff, plus popcakes and Nutella. We definitely made some converts that day.). Everyone came out to watch each other’s sets, and there was actually a pretty decent sized crown there from the start. We’ve played festivals where no one really shows up until the main acts start, so it was nice to see folks supporting the local acts too. It definitely added to everyone’s energy on stage, which resulted in some really fun sets from everyone.
As for our performance, well, it could have been better in my opinion. But nonetheless, we were well received. Actually, the crowd seemed to appreciate everyone, which was nice. For some reason, I kept dropping sticks. I don’t know if it was exhaustion from the long drive or what, but my right hand just could not seem to get a proper grip on the drumstick. Weird. Plus I could barely hear the rest of the band, so I don’t even know if I was playing in time. Oh well, it’s punk rock, it’s not supposed to be pretty. At least I had the Nutella handy to wash all of my frustrations away…
The main stage started up around 6 or so, with the first act being the Parkington Sisters. Not an act you’d typically expect to see at a show like this. But what they lacked in sonic boom-ness, they made up for in profanity. There’s just something about a hot chick that can wail on a fiddle and swear like a stevedore. I’ve been listening to a lot of rootsy music lately, so they were a welcome interlude. Not everyone liked them, but Jess and I did, so they made at least two fans that day. Mahones were up next. We opened for them in Boston last Summer, but I unfortunately had to miss that show, so this was actually the first time I’d ever seen them live. Wow, they put on a great show. Their whistle player is simply amazing, and their accordion player was lively and leggy. Mama’s got a squeezebox, indeed.
Chuck Ragan had a good set, although I had gone to get dinner during much of it. His low growl and emotion really drove his folk punk songs. I need to pick up some of his music. We’ve played withStreet Dogs before, and they’re about as good a punk rock band as there is nowadays. Mike and Johnny really know how to fire up a crowd, everybody was moving and having a good time during their set. If they come to your town, make sure you don’t miss it. For reals, these guys scorched the stage.
The band I was most excited to see was Stiff Little Fingers. Punk rock legends. Northern Ireland’s answer to The Clash. As with the Mahones, I had to miss the show we opened for them a few months ago, so this was a second chance to bask in the glow of one of my all time favorite bands. They pulled out almost all the hits. I found myself singing along like a twelve year old girl at a Justine Bieber concert (No, I’m not linking to his website.).
We didn’t stay for the entire Dropkick Murphy’s set, because by then we’d been walking around and rocking out for nearly 12 hours. So I missed the acoustic part of the show, and the part where Ken Casey stepped on my friend Gina’s head (She’s fine, she actually got kind of psyched about it.). I’ve seen them many many times, and they’re a great live act, but we were totally spent and decided to call it a night. Luckily, Jess has family not too far away, so we sacked out there with two of the biggest dogs I’ve ever seen and a kitten with double paws, who seemed and acted like a long lost relative of Finn.
Sunday’s drive home was long, but fun (I retained my Punchbuggy crown), and we ended the weekend at Secret Society Tattoo and Art Gallery in Worcester. They were having an art opening for a local artist, and Jess was pouring the whisky (she spells it without the “E”, so I will too). The food was good, and I met some cool folks from the Worcester arts scene. Jeff Gemma and Danny Gunns, the guys who do the ink slinging there, were in attendance (Jeff is actually the owner), and it was a cool, laid back way to finish the weekend.
Tonight, the Gobshites try out a new drummer, and we’re playing out on the deck again this Friday at Mick Morgan’s in Sharon. Last time there was an absolute blast, so I’m definitely looking forward to this show. Stop by and say hi if you can.
Souveniers are available in the gift shop…
June 2, 2011
Lesser bands then SLF would have canceled last nights show – guitarist Ian McCallum took sick moments before the tour started – John Haggarty of Naked Raygun infamy stood in, and while a competent substitute, he looked a little uncomfortable on stage. Then there was the odd choice of venue for a punk gig – Showcase Live, a state of the art concert venue beside Foxoboro football stadium some 30 miles outside Boston, but a venue more used to hosting tribute acts – Showcase is also not exactly easy to get to even when there isn’t frigging tornado’s ripping up various parts of the state and a state wide tornado emergency in effect – thus ensured a small turn out (though if SLF had played the Middle East club instead it would have sold out, tornado or not). Despite the poor attendance, an appreciative (and somewhat portly) Jake Burns along with original (and skinny) bass player McMordie, the a fore mentioned Haggerty and drummer Steve Grantley played a blistering set of SLF classics to an enthusiastic and hardy crowd of storm chasers, though with the exception of Strummerville everything was from the glory days of the late 70’s and early 80s and guess what, nobody seemed to mind.
Support was from The Gobshites who gave me a nice shout out from the stage and a song dedication or so I though was a nice shout out until they broke into Arsehole by Snuff –
What an arsehole
What a fucking wanker
What a toss-pot ,a toe rag ,a fart in a jar
– where there is smoke there must be fire I guess.
July 27, 2010
Just around the corner from Boston’s North Station and the home of The Celtics and The Bruins, is McGann’s Pub. Although only average-sized in square footage, the place is laid out perfectly for a show like tonight’s.
The first act to go on was a single guy with an acoustic guitar. There was no fear of any James Taylor-like smooth and/or mellow stylings though, as the guy was Chris Skel, helmsman of New Jersey pub punk act, The Skels. With just his axe and his voice, he created a huge noise off of that stage! His set included a track or two from the Skels catalog, true, but the bulk of it came from his solo material. For those unaware, Chris has put out two solo project CD over the last eighteen months, so he had plenty of great material to choose from. (Look for a review of his newest 6-track EP, “Sudden Psalms” here soon!) Chris set the pace well and got the crowd on their feet.
Up next, (or ‘again,’ since they did the sound check earlier with some killer stuff!), was Rick Barton and The Continental. Rick Barton, a familiar face in this type of venue as the former guitarist for the Dropkick Murphys, assembled this new project with himself in the guitar and lead vocals role, (and his son on the bass.) An incredible performance from these guys, tight and sharp, with some fantastic guitar solos from his lead guitarist. (Oh, and an excellent rendition of DKM’s The Torch, by the way!)
The third band in the line-up was The Gobshites, who somehow manage to show up and play at every show I see in Boston!
Pete and the gang jumped right into action and proved, once again, to possess the largest catalog of drinking songs in the free world!
Apparently on a first-name basis with every member of the audience, the band’s conversational banter and audience participation portion, (which included alternating readers for the limericks, and some masterful beer-tray playing,) brings Gobshites’ sets as close to an open seisiún as punk rock gets.
The headliners, of course, were The Mahones. The band were in the midst of celebrating their twentieth anniversary tour, and a festive mood was running amok!
Unfortunately, the band was playing as a four-piece, without their mandolinist. As a mandolin player myself this was a bit of a let down, but the band seemed to compensate by selecting songs from the higher-energy end of their catalog! This was probably for the best, and the mood of the crowd was perfect for these tunes.
Tight, clean and in top-notch form, The Mahones blasted out a great set deep into the evening.
By the time the music had died down, the Newcastles and Patron were making their presence known to me. Fearless and bulletproof, I was feeling pretty good. The show, though, was a great time for all, and another huge success for Shite ‘n’ Onions.
Thanks a bunch to S’n’O’s John Murphy, for another fantastic show!
Review by Christopher P. Toler, THE Blathering Gommel
The Whistle Before the Snap is the long awaited and much delayed album by Boston’s greatest Folk’n’Irish band The Gobshites. Now, while some bands claim to be influenced by the Ramones, some bands wear Ramones shirts, some bands even sing about the Ramones, well The Gobshites manage to have a Ramone (Ritchie) sit in on drums for the whole album. The Gobshites are famous for taking old punk rock standards and giving ’em the Irish treatment so of course we have Somebody Put Something in My Drink given The Gobshites once over as well as Mojo Nixon‘s ode to Shane’s Dentist. But unlike before everything else is original (though if you want split hairs four of the songs were originally recorded by head Gobshite Pete Walsh’s punk band Meat Depressed – written with the Gobshites in mind I’m assured). How does it sound? Great! slightly chaotic, tipsy to sloshed, pub-punk sing along’s with off color self effacing humor…….and oh yeah even a touch of maturity on a couple or three tracks (That’s why I drink, Hidden Meaning & No Fairy Tale)
The Evil of Drink