A Personal Memoir

By Graham Pallot, England.

In 1964 I was 16 years old, and about to take my O Levels. The Beatles were just breaking through, and the whole "Liverpool Scene" was starting to open up. I was, I suppose, academic enough to be "fast-streamed" through school, but I hated the restrictive nature of the curriculum. I liked the whole new youth culture of those years, and was particularly inclined towards the "folk" music of Bob Dylan et al. that was, in its way, as controversial as the music and behaviour of the Stones. And I was just starting to go in pubs.

Late in that year, with A levels just underway, a schoolfriend somehow got involved in "rapper dancing", a traditional English folk dance form. He asked me to go along and watch him one Thursday night. The venue was Digbeth Civic Hall, Birmingham. Or, at least, it was the smaller hall at the back, where the folk dance provided part of the evening's entertainment at a folk music club, The Jug O' Punch.

I'd never been to a folk club, and my own experience of traditional music and song was restricted to the few songs we had learned in our weekly music lessons in school. The Jug O'Punch opened up a new world, and a lifelong passion. The club was run by Ian Campbell, for me the most under-rated influence in folk music, and a man whose influence rates alongside that of Ewan MacColl. The Ian Campbell Folk Group included the great Dave Swarbrick, Ian's sister Lorna - whose singing was unsurpassed in Britain and the late John Dunkerley. The group had also included one Dave Phillips, and it was Dave who partnered a young Irish singer called Luke Kelly.

Luke performed regularly at the club, and was living not far from me in Birmingham. I knew nothing about The Dubliners, of whom Luke had once been a member. But my memories of Luke at this time are of a great voice put to excellent use on the bus journeys home, where the club regulars would take over the top deck and just let it rip. Another Irish singer at the club was one Tommy Dempsey who, he informed me last year, had been lined up as a replacement for Luke at the time Bobby Lynch took over!!!!!!! However, in those heady days it was the duo of Luke Kelly and Dave Phillips that were well-known around the Birmingham folk scene. The last time I saw them perform together was when they opened their own folk club at The Red Lion pub in Moseley, Birmingham. For those who have read Des Geraghty's book "Luke Kelly - A Memoir", the pictures of Luke at youth camp also include the other organiser, not identified in the picture, Dave Phillips. Luke was one of many talented performers at the Jug O'Punch, and it was one of Ian Campbell's songs, "The Sun is Burning", that later became a Luke classic.

In 1969 I was home from college, and paying my usual Thursday night visit to the Jug. Ian Campbell announced that The Dubs, now internationally famous, would be turning up to perform. This was a detour one their way to a late show at a nearby nightclub. I went to the bar to get a drink, and there was the sound of raised voices. Luke was arguing with Dave over money - Dave never had any and now Luke had plenty. Luke insisted that Dave take some, because it was from Dave that Luke had learned so much of his material, including songs like "Peggy Gordon". I don't know if Dave, as stubborn as Luke, ever took the money, but whenever the Dubliners performed in Birmingham Luke, with his usual generosity, always paid tribute to Dave Phillips, Ian Campbell and the days he spent in Birmingham.

Over the years I have seen The Dubliners on every UK concert tour since the 60's, and many of their festival performances. There are many memorable moments, particularly the time in 1969 at the Cambridge Folk Festival when I first heard Luke sing "On Raglan Road" and the silence that fell over the whole audience that was packing the main tent that night. I can also claim to be there on that memorable night in Birmingham when Barney, annoyed by the constant heckling of a drunken young lady in the audience, stopped playing and said, "If they ever put a price on your head, sell it." and that same night as Luke got increasingly annoyed with the same woman shouting "Sing us a rebel song" retorted "If that's what you want, go and watch the Wolfe Tones" and then said "If it's a rebel song you want, then here's one just for you," and then launched into a social protest song by Ewan MacColl.

At the same time I was visiting a folk club run by a friend of mine, and one of the regular performers there was an Irish singer from County Galway called Sean Cannon. Imagine my surprise when, knowing of Luke's illness, I went to see the Dubs and there, replacing Luke, was the same Sean Cannon. Sean continues to appear at the club whenever he's not "on duty" with the Dubs, and his solo performances are enhanced by other material and his skills as a storyteller.

Luke's death nearly cost me my job, as when I heard of it I was at work and a friend rang me. I sat in my car listening to a programme on RTE, and was reported to my boss. It was like losing a close friend, and he was, I believe, quite sympathetic.

So I've seen the Dubliners with Luke, Ciaron, and Bobby Lynch, as well as Sean, Eamonn, Paddy and Jim McCann. I've seen Ronnie in and out of the group, and sat in a field watching Barney and John.

Thanks to them all.