St. Patrick's Eve

I decided to try serving dinner before the Saw Doctors performance, so I picked up gray corned beef, a head of cabbage, potatoes, carrots, onions, and Irish butter. The corned beef, actually an Irish-American tradition, needed to be soaked and then boiled for several hours, but it came out tender and tasty. The lady friend brought cheeses and olives, and my sister brought the soda bread. Judging from the quantity of food consumed, the single man has found himself another specialty of the house. We raised a jar in several toasts as “Long Journey Home” served as a musical backdrop.

At seven we started into Boston. A certain driver was accused of going too fast, as his sister tightened her seatbelt. In fifteen minutes we were on Tremont Street across from the Wang Center, where a Marriot employee offered us valet parking for $20, a bargain in Boston for sure.

We bypassed the Roxy ticket line and sought out a vantage point in the ballroom. We settled on a spot in the balcony, about a third of the way back, with seats behind and a brass railing before, and a perfect view of the band. There was a bar steps away. We expected that the dance floor below would fill with the madding throng, and we were not disappointed. We were soon well acquainted with the other denizens of our balcony refuge.

The opening act was talented, but this was a Saw Doctors crowd. Before they went on, we were given our “N-17” (a route in Galway) signs to hold during the opening number, so I drilled the neophytes in the proper response: “I wish I was on the N-17,” sings Davy Carton. “Stone walls and the grasses green!” chants the crowd.

At nine o’clock, the boyo's hit the stage and Leo Moran hit the familiar chord progression introducing the song. The dance floor was by now teeming with aficionados, and Davy’s words brought a thunderous response. My lady friend, sister, and brother-in-law were right with them, brandishing their signs and belting out the lyrics.

It is impossible to describe the ecstatic, sentimental, inspiring transcendence that is a Saw Doctors concert. You didn’t think you knew their music, but now it seems like you know every word. You don’t like to dance in public, but now you are bumping and grinding and pumping your fist in the air. You never met all these people before, but now it seems as if you’ve known them for a lifetime. You’re usually careful not to drink too much, but now the beer flows like the water of life.

I noticed some subtle differences from the concert I attended last summer. I’d thought Davy, who does most of the singing, was the leader of the band, but this time it seemed to be Leo, with all his charming and quirky grins, gestures, shuffling dance steps, and his sign language during “Tommy K”. Last summer, the immensely talented Anthony Thistlewaite, who plays bass, sax, and harmonica, was content to stay in the background, but now he is fully involved in the on-stage antics. The keyboardist is new, and more inclined to come to the stagefront when playing accordion, or playing the driving jig on guitar during the frenetic finale, “Hay Wrap”.

“I’d kill for a pinta porter
Jayz, I’d kill for a pinta porter
There’s mad wild drink in Tuam, hay!
Get that wasp off of my sandwich!”