CD Review Black 47: rough, rowdy and raw

By Eileen Murphy

BLACK 47; LIVE IN NEW YORK CITY. Gadfly Records #00099. Available in record stores, or by calling 1(888) 9GADFLY.

The appeal of a band like Black 47 lies as much in the amount of energy they generate during their live performances as it does in their song lyrics or musical technique. This electricity is sometimes difficult to capture in a recording — there’s something about the haze of blue smoke, the smell of beer, the crush of bodies, the sweat on the singer’s face — that colors one’s perception of the music. But with their new album, "Black 47: Live in New York City," the band has succeeded in grabbing the genie and stuffing him into the bottle, or at least, the CD case.

The album, recorded at Wetlands in New York City last St. Patrick’s Day, is really a "best of" collection, plus two covers: a quasi-rewrite of Bob Marley’s "Three Little Birds" and a spirited take on Bob Dylan’s "Like a Rolling Stone." Listening to the album brings back memories of the early 1990s, before Black 47 became the must-see act — and Paddy Reilly’s Bar became the must-see bar — on the New York Irish scene. Back then, the band’s sound didn’t attract many fans, as Kirwan wryly recalls in the bitingly funny "Rockin’ the Bronx." "Oh we got a gig in the Village Pub/But the regulars there all said that we sucked . . ."

Other early favorites include "Maria’s Wedding," "Desperate" and "Forty Shades of Blue." The latter’s imagery is hauntingly wistful: an immigrant is reduced to panhandling on the Bowery but dreams of returning home in triumph.

Standouts include "James Connolly," "Green Suede Shoes" and a deliciously irreverent "Different Drummer," the latter appropriating the melody of "Phil the Fluter’s Ball": "With a toot on the flute and a twiddle on the fiddle oh/Music in me soul and a beat on me boombox oh . . ." It may not be poetry, but it’s catchy. And no Black 47 retrospective, or concert, would be complete without the band’s party piece, "Funky Ceili."

Chris Byrne plays uilleann pipes and sings lead on the raw "Walk all the Days," the best track on the album and possibly the band’s most affecting song. Byrne, a former New York City cop, seems to have drawn on his firsthand knowledge of the streets: the officer in the song, who lies near death, bitterly ponders his fate: "Walk all the days just to stagger at night/ A pension at 20 if all goes all right/To the junkies, the yuppies, Ice-T, and the whores/ I bid you all a slán agus beannacht."

In the album’s brief liner notes, Kirwan concedes that some fans will be disappointed that their favorites were not included, and promises that the band will soon release another CD from the same show. This should make up for some sorry omissions, like "Fire of Freedom," "Living in America," and "Sam Hall."

"Black 47: Live in New York City" reflects the pride that the band seems to take in their rough edges: Kirwan’s often grating vocals — particularly during "Funky Ceili," Byrne’s fierce attacks on the pipes, the frequent recycling of familiar Irish tunes. The combined effect is raw, exciting and occasionally brilliant. It’s the next best thing to being at a show . . . though you might want to invite friends over to recreate feel of the crowd.