Eoin Butler: writer, journalist and Mayoman of the Year
Tripping Along The Ledge
irish times
Handsomest Mayoman contest went right down to The Wire
This night last week I was on the lash in Dublin with Eddie, Buzz and Boo from the Hardy Bucks, celebrating RTE’s decision to commission a second series.* (And that’s before we even know if the first one is any good!) Two days later I was in Dingle, interviewing actor Aidan Gillen about his upcoming series Love/Hate. One of these encounters was wild, raucous and thoroughly enjoyable. The other was stilted and kinda awkward. You’ll have to guess. I’m not going to say. Read the rest of this entry »
Mediocrity at One’s Elbow
The other day Lauren Murphy wrote about her least favourite band of all time. It got me to thinking about my own personal bêtes noires. I saw Elbow for the first and only time in Vicar Street two years ago. It was shortly before they won the Mercury prize. They were riding a wave of acclaim, lauded by everyone from Pitchfork to The Sun.
It seemed to me a pretty pedestrian set by a very ordinary band. (Albeit, with a singer so concerned for the welfare of his audience, you might have mistaken it for a Make a Wish benefit.) But in the bar afterward, other journalists were unanimous in their praise, hurling superlatives about the place like confetti. It had been a sensation. The gig of the year. A triumph on a par with Hannibal crossing the Alps. Read the rest of this entry »
And your new flatmates are…
So you’re finally moving into a place of your own? Congratulations, first and foremost. In a world that never fails to deliver its share of letdowns and crushing disappointments, this is one rite of passage that actually lives up to the hype. Before outlining some of the comparatively minor pitfalls that may lie ahead, it is worth taking stock again of what precisely you stand to gain. Read the rest of this article here.
“That’s shit. They could at least remember you as the ‘anti-war activist’ who dressed in a cat suit…”
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The Fantastic Mr Dahl
Came across this article (and this one) yesterday morning. I met Roald Dahl once when I was a child. He was doing a book signing in Kenny’s bookshop in Galway and my parents brought us along. You had to buy a book if you wanted to meet him. I bought the only book by him in the shop that I’d hadn’t read already: Charlie and the Great Glass Elevator. Read the rest of this entry »
The whirr of the bank machine is my accountant. If I hear it, I’m solvent. If I don’t, I’m not.
Read the rest of this article here.
A preparation for death
IT ISN’T DIFFICULT to pick out Greg Baxter as he strolls along Dublin’s Lower Ormond Quay. He has been living in Ireland for almost a decade and his native accent has all but disappeared. But, at more than six feet tall, with broad shoulders and a deep tan, the 35-year-old author still looks every inch a Texan.
He is polite too, and neatly dressed. In fact, for a writer who portrays himself as a hopeless degenerate throughout most of his newly published memoir, he looks remarkably well. Read the rest of this entry »
Published: Irish Times, July 29 2010“To be fair, we did just fly past in a bright pink discotheque on wheels. He might have been a little bit distracted.”
‘I THINK I went to school with that guy,” mutters 28-year-old Chris Dunne of Absolute Limos as he navigates a roundabout in Clondalkin, west Dublin. Its 8pm on Saturday and we’re en route to the first pick-up of the night. When the passerby does not return his salute, Dunne is disappointed. “He didn’t even acknowledge me!”
To be fair, I point out, we did just whizz past in a bright red discotheque on wheels. He might have been a little bit distracted. Read the rest of this entry »
‘A German audience will stare at you stony-faced for the entire gig and then buy every T-shirt you have’
My wife likes to make a show of me by getting me to list the weirdest jobs I’ve had. When I was a kid I worked in Dunnes Stores in town. There was a strike on and I was supposed to be on strike duty. But I got a little nixer on the side, guarding a giant inflatable can of 7Up in the car park outside The Square in Tallaght. There were legions of kids harrassing me “What is it, mister?” “Can I kick it, mister?” “Can I burn it?”Read the rest of this article here.
‘A German audience will stare at you stony-faced for the entire gig and then buy every T-shirt you have’
THE MIGHTY STEF
Ireland’s last rock n’ roll hero: he sings, he plays, he makes beds
We’re in the middle of a recession. The music industry has all but collapsed… So how does a rock and roller earn a crust these days?
In Dublin? You don’t. I scrape a living by frequently touring abroad. Germany would be one of my main markets. I have a small label over there that puts out everything I’ve done. If I go away for three weeks, and play my cards right, I might come home with a couple of months wages. That’s standard industrial wages. I also do the odd residency where I play folk music anonymously.
What, like Scarborough Fair?
No, not that kind of folk music. I mean, I play acoustic sets. Mostly covers – I do everything from Phil Spector to Bob Dylan. There might also be occasional “DJ” set [he mimes the quotation marks] here and there, which really involves just putting a CD in the machine and pressing play. Basically, I hustle for a living. The wages are modest, but at least I’m doing what I love to do. Read the rest of this entry »