Good News

While I try to look at the positive side, it's not always that easy. Mondays for instance. Every Monday I start a new week. What if no-one listens to a song and I sell no Cds at all and what if this trend continues on Tuesday, Wednesday etc. etc.? So far it hasn't happened but on any Monday this may occur to me and until I've earned my first euro, it can seem to be very much a reality.

Back when I started, this was much more of a worry but now, with almost four years of Mondays behind me, experience is reassuring. I've only just learned that it's also been a worry for those close to me - my partner, my kids and friends and I hope that the reallity of my second album, "Odds and Sods" and it's eventual release should alleviate their fears for me. My mother recently asked me if I ever thought I'd find myself homeless. Maybe she'd heard the joke; What do you call a musician without a girlfriend? - Homeless.

Things are going pretty well for me right now. Some good things from the past week; someone told me they'd heard me being mentioned and a track played on the John Creedon Show on RTE radio 1. It wasn't until, a few days later, a second person confirmed it and even knew what track, I actually believed it. Somebody I met in Kilarney, told me that my 'Wandering Minstrelling' had been mentioned in an interview with Cilla Black on Radio Kerry a few days earlier. Somebody else, also in Killarney, told me that they'd just read - in Hot Press - that I'd sold over six thousand copies of "Losers and Sinners" - a slight exageration, I'm about two hundred copies short. All this tells me that I am getting somewhere, driving round in circles.

Whatever day I manage to upload this, I'm writing it on Monday 20th October. I've just spent the weekend with my partner, in Dublin. Before I left this morning, I checked my e-mails and site (still very quiet). I tried typing seanoneill into the MSN search engine - the site didn't come up. Then I tried Google - Bingo I was listed - a few times. It seems that the journal entries are being picked up. Next I tried Yahoo - I'm there too. Hey, maybe I really do exist.

www.seanoneillsongs.com

I've just typed that because, I suspect that the more times it's mentioned in the content, the more likely it is to appear in search engines. I'd welcome feedback from those who know more about this stuff. www.seanoneill.com is a site owned by an American couple and has quite a lot of stuff on it and seems to come up, very high in the search engine list and I've typed it in 'cause I also believe that it'll bring my site further up the list. For this reason, and the fact that I once traded under the same name, I'm also typing in www.seanoneillphoto.com

www.damienrice.com . What's that got to do with this site? Well, I like Damien and typing his site here could do the ratings some good too.

When I moved up to Dublin in October '99, to play at the singer/songwriter nights, I started running into Damien and he blew me away. While staying with my friends, the Herlihys in Kerry, last week I picked up a rag 'Ireland on Sunday' and read a totally bitchy article by Mary Carr. The general tone of it was that maybe Damien doesn't give Lisa and the band the credit they deserve and maybe they'll f*ck off and where would he be then and who does he think he is anyway? It's good to see someone who's done it his own way getting through. Good luck to you Damien. I'm listening to 'O' a lot lately and getting occasional texts and e-mails from people who've just seen the 'Blowers Daughter' video on the telly.

Anyway, I left Dublin at about 12 and drove as far as Adare in Co. Limerick. I was photographed in Adare last January and was featured on the cover of the Limerick Leader. (check out www.limerick-leader.ie type 'troubadour' into archives and it should come up)
It was almost five when I began knocking on doors but by 7.30, I had a days wages. With Monday out of the way, the rest of the week should be a doddle.

When I first began selling my CD door to door, I thought that within a year, there'd be at least a half dozen people doing the same. If there are, then I haven't heard about it - and I think I would. There was a guy I came across, in Newbridge, Kildare, who sold a few tapes in his neighbourhood - I think he did this for a few weekends. I also came across a guy who would offer to read you a random page from his book, on your doorstep and sign a copy for you if you liked it. Today though, a woman told me that a friend of hers - Gerry Henderson - was going to give it a go. Gerry, I hope you do and if I can give you any help, then I'd be happy to.

I arrived home to find that I had a brown envelope waiting. It turned out to be my biggest royalty cheque yet. Thanks IMRO. www.imro.ie

A Sort of Discography

Christmas 1998 saw the 'release?' of 'Smug and Sanctimonious Songs', 20 copies made in all. This contained the first 12 songs I'd written and while I know I have a copy somewhere, I can't lay my hands on it now. Some of the songs from it are on 'Losers & Sinners', some on 'Dead Birds & Funny Fish' and some on 'Odds & Sods'. Songswise, it was a good album but it was done on a 4-track machine and by the time the duplicates were done, you'd have to be very keen to hear them, to tollerate the poor sound quality. Maybe sometime I'll revisit it digitally - probably not.


'Losers & Sinners' - I call this my accidental album - happened about tan and a half months after I wrote my first song and less than ayear after I began to sing outside my bath. Two tracks from it and the lyrics can be found on the site. Here are the sleeve notes.

Monday 12th July 1999

Does anybody else read sleeve notes? Just in case, I'm writing these, while listening for the second time to a tape of a two hour recording session at the home studio of Peter Vastl. This was the morning after doing my first ever paying gig (40 pounds), in O'Chea's wine bar* in galway, from 12.30am to 3.00am. The recording session cost me thirty pounds so I'm already ten pounds in profit (soon give up the day job). The voice, despite a good spoon of honey, is rough here and there, but I kinda like it like that.

The songs, sometimes too fast, sometimes too slow are from a selection of fifty I've written since my first, 'Nice and Sleazy Caledonia Blues' - 24th August 1998, sung in no particular order - the newest, the album title was four days old and now two days later, I know I can do it much better but, having been a perfectionist for most of my forty eight years, I'm now learning to let things go (even the cough near the end of 'Unidentifiable Residential Object').

My son, Emmet donated the grapics and design, so this is probably the most inexpensive album ever produced but I want to put something of what I've been doing for the past year into the public domain. While a guy can learn a lot singing and playing on the street, he can also get pneumonia.....

Sean 'almost a Legend' O'Neill
e-mail; seanbirdfish@hotmail.com

Ps. I like to think of this as a concept album, actually a three concept allbum;

1 Going with the flow, I threw away my maps and user guides 12 months ago and have had an amazing year.
2 Quitting the day job
3 To raise funds to buy a decent left handed guitar for further recordings etc.

While retaining copyright on the songs here, I have no problem if you wish to tape it for gift and would appreciate it if you can take the time to write out some sleeve notes - at least my name. Thanks.

There's also the the third verse from 'No Hard Feelings' but I'm not going to type that out when it's already on the site.


'Odds & Sods - an interim album'

The follow up to 'Losers & Sinners' should be 'Dead Birds & Funny Fish'. The plan was to do a 'radio friendlier' album on a budget ten times that of L&S - ie three hundred pounds or the euro equivalent. It will be done but logistically, it won't be easy. So far, I've used about half that budget. I've found the studio - Cosmic in Ballymun. I've recorded a pile of stuff there and need to go back with my musicians - all of whom I've met through knocking on doors. They've offered their services - free - but they are fairly scattered around the country so getting them to Dublin and accomodating them is something that needsa a bit of planning.

My dad died last year - the June bank holiday weekend. He was still throwing himself at the world and keeled over - two bites into his last supper - and that was it. He'd been asking me for a while, when I was going to put out 'The Badness'. This track is on 'Dean Birds & Funny Fish'. I decided, following the funeral, that I was going to do an album - in a day - and that, along with that track, it would have songs that someone, somewhere was looking for a copy of, and that I'd call it 'Odds & Sods'

I'd met Aiden Roberts through IMRO and a friend, Josh Johnson - a great piano player - had told me that he had a really nice studio. I did my day there and then decided to go back and do another and get Aiden to put some other instrumentation on top of the guitar and vocal recordings we had. That actually became four more days and what was going to be a second CD to sell on doorsteps, will be going into a lot of radio stations soon - and maybe getting played occasionally.


'Dead Birds & Funny Fish'

Watch this space.


'Free as a Breeze & Fresh Out of Vitreol'

Not quite written yet.

The Old Mill

There's a very special place, not far from Naas or Newbridge. It's an old mill that's been lovingly restored by Eoin O'Toole,who bought it in 1987 and did most of the renovation himself and with the help of friends. Outside there is a water driven millwheel and walking around inside, you can see the ancient machinery working as it used to. This in itself is special but what makes it unique is that it's now being used in a number of ways, providing a gallery space and performance area for all manner of artists, not yet with a sufficiently high profile to show at the more mainstream venues or those who like to do an occasional low profile gig.

Everywhere there are small touches that show the care that's gone into making "The Old Mill" what it now is. Children's paintings can be found pinned to old wooden beams and craftwork, for sale or not is everywhere. The square footage of the place is enormous yet the atmosphere is very homely and almost cottage-like. One gets the feeling that, uniquely, this place isn't there for the money. Yes, you can buy food, teas, coffees or even a glass of wine (and until recently a beer), and it can be hard to tell who is working there and who is helping out.

Open from Wednesday - Sunday, the mill acts as a place where couples can have a pre wedding reception reception - with very picturesque surroundings for the wedding album, a low budget - high quality recording studio and, in the evenings, a completely different sort of music venue. Set dancing classes are held there in the early evening, a singer/songwriter session (with the option of having the set recorded - for little more than the cost of the blank CDR) every Thursday night. People of the calibre of Luka Bloom and John Spillane play regularly on Saturdays. Lazy family Sunday afternoons - in the grounds, weather permitting - feature traditional Irish music, which makes way for a bit of jazz in the evening.

I am a songwriter and don't have many opportunities to perform my work to an audience prepared to listen to music unfamiliar to them. In the small theatre space here, I've been at some of the most atmospheric songwriter nights, I've played to some of my most atentative audiences and even been joined on stage by some wonderful singers who I'd met an hour earlier in the kitchen and the result of this actually was recorded and features as a hidden track on my new CD.

There are very few places in which a stranger can feel as welcome, in the world, let alone in Ireland and I feel that it would be a crime against real values if this place were to be shut down.

Eoin showed me a letter from a solicitor, in which I, as a regular patron, have been called rowdy. It also suggested that I could be responsible for frightening the horses. Since discovering the mill, I've attended on at least ten occasions - to perform or to listen. I have stayed overnight a few times and found it to be a hard place to leave. I have never seen any rowdyism there - nor have I seen a horse.

The Land of the People who Smile and Dance(a short story)

The Land of the People Who Smile and Dance

Long, long ago, in a land not far away, there lived a happy race of people. In this land - known as the land of the people who smile and dance - no-body was rich and no-body was poor. There was enough of everything to go around. Everybody had a place to live and enough good things to eat and people had enough time to talk to each other and, of course, to smile and dance.

The King, who was neither rich nor poor, was well pleased with his land, and doubly pleased when he mused that it was almost 1,000 years since last their country had been at war and that everybody had been smiling and dancing ever since. Of course there was that slight invasion a few hundred years ago, according to the history books, but apparently, everybody was so busy smiling and dancing, that hardly anybody noticed. The invaders, it seemed, were so taken with the way of life here, that they smiled and danced and soon completely forgot that they were invaders.

One night, a few months before the Millennium, the King had a dream. It was a beautiful dream and when he woke, he told the Queen all about it. In the dream, there had been many people, smiling and dancing and much merriment - and - beautiful MUSIC. Music, yes music. Did I forget to mention that in 'the land of the people who smile and dance' they had not yet discovered music? Sorry, I forgot.

"It was so beautiful." said the King, with a tear in his eye. "It even matched the dancing"

Over the next few days, the King found himself thinking back to the dream and sometimes his smile became a little wistful and he found he was missing the music.

"How can you miss something you never had?" asked the Queen. "Cop yourself on." she smiled.

The King's smile sank a little. "But what if....? What if....?"

"You're a dreamer, Kingie babe, but I love ya"

"You may say that I'm a dreamer - but I'm not the only one." sang the King.

"Oh, that sounds nice." said the Queen. "What did you do?"

"I spoke, but with music - I told you it sounds good - but there's more to it than singing, much more."

"Maybe we could do something for the Millennium" sang the Queen - a trifle wobbly, but catching on to the idea.

Later, after much consideration, the King decided that traditional music was probably the best sort to begin with and had posters put up announcing the plans for the Millennium. The ambassadors of 'the land of the people who smile and dance were sent abroad to seek out whatever musical instruments they could find. A website, asking for instruments, know how and information on traditional music, was even set up.

Soon, instruments were arriving from all four corners of the globe - Hyde Park was particularly fruitful. Teach yourself to play books came in good supply too. It was a time of great excitement all over the land. People were astonished at the variety of shapes and sizes - not to mention sound made by these magnificent curios, things that went 'ping', things that went 'toot or tweet'. There were even things that made sound by sawing the stretched gut of a cat with the tail of a horse!

A special 'Millennium, Traditional Music Gala' event was put on, in the Palace grounds so that the people could democratically decide which instruments were the most suitable for their traditional music. It was held in the games stadium and those who considered themselves to be knacky with the instruments were given a couple of minutes to demonstrate the range of an instrument and the people would vote, by a simple system, involving apples, oranges and bananas, on whether an instrument was 'just right, showed potential or just wouldn't do at all'. Some that made the 'just right' group, later proved to be not so - i.e. the Tuba. But all in all, it was a good fair way to sort it out and what a week it was. The smiles got bigger and bigger, some occupying entire faces, even encroaching on the torso and, it was said, one man's went right down to his belly-button and eve off the sides of his face - nobody actually saw this smile, it was always, a friend of a friend. Needless to say, there was also plenty of dancing.

The favourite instruments were the fiddles (the cat/horse one), the smaller ones, as the cellos and basses were hard to hold under the chin and smile and dance with. Squeeze boxes of all shapes and sizes were also popular as were bodrans, sticks and bones. Plucked instruments like guitars and mandolins met with much approval - though some said, "Not too many guitars, please". Whistles, it was generally agreed, had a great sound although the musicians didn't seem too keen to play them. The Illean pipes went down a Bombardier with the audience and the musician. While many liked the Sitar, and it made the 'maybe' list, it was decided it sounded a tad too foreign to be of much real use. The brass sounded too 'brassy', much to the relief of the musicians, the harmonica sounded nice - although no-one seemed too keen to play it.

Over the next few weeks, bands were formed across the land and there was much clamouring for the fiddles so some bands had two of three fiddle players and maybe a couple of box players. Bodrans, sticks and bones were snapped up quickly too. Guitars, bazoukis and mandolins all found themselves busy but all over the land, it became apparent that nobody wanted to play the whistles, flutes, mouth organ or even the ill fated tuba. One group almost came to blows over this and probably would have if the King and Queen hadn't happened along as thing were heating up.

"What's wrong?" enquired the King.

"Pat won't play the whistle - and he's very good at it" said a fiddle player.

"So are you, better than you are on the fiddle. And I want to play the guitar" said Pat. He was the smallest of the band and fighting his corner.

"But we've enough of those already," said Mick "and sure you're great on the whistle, brilliant - or what about the harmonica, go on ya boy-ya." encouraged Mick, the largest of the bunch.

"Don't you like the sound of the whistle?" the King asked, "I think it's lovely - it's one of my favourites Pat. Sure, go on."

"I love the sound of the whistle. I do. I do. I really do but I just don't want to play it, nobody does - or the harmonica or the tuba or anything you put in your mouth! Ask them." smiled Pat.

"Is this true?" asked the King, with his gravest smile.

After a few moments, everybody nodded, smiling sheepishly.

"But it sounds so lovely. We surely have to have the whistle. Don't we?"

Enthusiastic nods all round.

"King," it was little Megan, "can I say something?"

"Of course you may," said the King, "if you think it will help."

"Maybe I shouldn't." said Megan, her shyness getting the better of her.

"You can whisper it to me." smiled the Queen, warmly.

So she did.

Later, the Queen explained to the King, that Megan didn't want to play a 'blowing' thing because whenever she did, her smile went away and she thought that this might be a problem for the other musicians too - though nobody had said anything about it.

And so it came to pass that a few days later, the King had every available poster site covered with the announcement of the 'Millennium Musicians Charter'. This was received with great delight, especially when it came to paragraph 44, subsection d, which stated that, 'as a consideration for 'blowing thing' players, who may have difficulty smiling, while they play, that ALL player of traditional music, refrain from smiling whilst performing'

Little Megan, on reading this, was overjoyed and, at the next band practice, was pretty quick about securing her place - only for a while - as tuba player.

The land is still there but now it's known as 'the land of the people who dance and smile (when they're not playing traditional music)' and in
one thousand and one hundred years, they have not been at war though there was almost a punch-up about a hundred years ago - according to the history books.

Sean O'Neill copyright 2,000

Opera

Gilbert and Sullivan - no not Gilbert O'Sullivan - wrote a song that goes, "A wandering minstrel boy am I". I've had that snatch of it sung for me so many times, on doorsteps, that I know it off by heart. If you know the rest of it, please keep it to yourself.

I never could stand the works of G & S. I think I got an overdose of it when in primary school. All thanks to the enthusiasm of one malaria infected teacher who thought that Cliff Richards music was the devils - and Elvis, don't even mention Elvis. I'm probably a bit more open, since I began to write, to listening to Mr. Gilbert's or Sullivan's (I can't remember which, even though I did see "Topsy Turvy") lyrics, but for me, their stuff is to opera, what ABBA were to rock and roll.

Guess what? I've been invited to do a gig at the Wexford Arts Centre, during the Opera Festival !!! Now Pavorotti I ain't and so won't be doing the old Madame Butterfly or Carmen numbers but I feel that I should get into the spirit of the festival and while I've never written an opera, surely it can't be that hard.

I was thinking of an epic story with lots of archetypal characters - I'd play them all and do the orchestra too. Something about five minutes long - the Reduced Puccini Company. I do a passable soprano, if the atmosphere is right and if not a true tenor, I'm confident that I'm more than a fiver.

I even made a start at writing it and then thought, "Why not weave a set list into a story - I've more than enough songs - and do operatic links to introduce them". That was yesterday and I've made a start already, in spite of ongoing car, mobile phone and to a lesser extent women troubles. I have until November 1st to finish and perfect it. If you are in the Wexford area, the gig is in the Arts Centre theatre and should kick off soon after one PM. (lunchtime)

Even if I chicken out on the above, you should enjoy the gig.

PS. My partner, who does smoke, thinks the previous entry "Smoke screen" is B*llix and disagrees with me totally. What do you think? Why not visit the discussion area and air your views?

PPS. There's a lack of pictures around here. Does anyone out there have a digital camera they don't want? Also, the back panel for the car (see "Women and Cars") hasn't turned up yet.

Smoke Screens

I'm an addict and so I'm biased but surely the decision by our smug, ex-smoker minister, Michael Martin, to ban smoking in the workplace, in particular, the pub, is ill thought out and whether enforceable or not, is just not fair or even wise. For the last twenty years or so, the issue of smoking or not has been a divisive one, but this latest move is surely one in the wrong direction.

We live in a world full of conflict between peoples of different races, cultures and religions. The American administration think that we should all be like them and enjoy it. Consumption is the name of the game. We buy into it, we get the fancy cars - with built in obsolescence, the labour saving devises that we work so hard for, the 24 hour TV to numb our heads so we don't think, fast junk to eat - out or from the supermarket - ready in four minutes, no less. We buy into advertised products to make us feel more beautiful, cool or safe - when the business of advertising is to make us concerned about problems we never knew we had, until they told us - and then tell us what we can do to make us feel better - and as long as we stay busy enough, we won't see through it.

I'm not saying that if I were to write a string of 'hits' that provided me with more money than I could possibly need that I wouldn't find ways to enjoy it - a nice house in a place I liked, with a grand piano and recording studio. Hell, I even know what three cars I'd have in my garage - a pre '99 Mazda MX5 for everyday use, something a bit less practical, purely for fun - a Caterham 7 or Aerial Atom (look it up), and when I needed more than two seats then I'd use the V-Dub - actually while it's made by Volkswagen, it's called Bentley Continental. We can all dream. What I am saying though, is that not having these things - OK Mazda aside - does not make me unhappy and I do not believe that having them would necessarily make me happy - I don't need them. Advertising is about creating a need.

I discovered something recently - at one of the seminars coinciding with the IMRO writing collaboration. It may not seem that big but it's a huge one for me. What I leant about was moral rights. I'll explain - supposing, down the road, I get that 'publishing deal', suppose I've written a song that would be great in an ad for say Coca Cola or McDonalds or Smarties (now a Nestle product) or even Shell Oil - well for the past number of years, I've been buying alternative to these companies products - exercising my right to choose. I had always assumed that a publisher automatically had the right to exploit the songs he published in any way that would earn money for himself and for the writer. Not so. An artist has the right to stipulate companies that will not benefit from the intellectual property (i.e. song) and have this included in the publishing contract. This is very liberating for my head.

What's all this got to do with smoking or not in pubs? Plenty - or nothing at all. It's all got to do with a sense of proportion though. I have no wish to inflict my smoke on anyone who for health reasons or for personal choice finds it totally objectionable. If, say, I'm out with a friend with children or maybe who has asthma, I will take my leave for the five minutes a few puffs will take and no hard feelings either way. Take though - and I believe this paranoia has been spun - the smoker who gives up - gets through the addiction and gets preachy. You go out with them and conversation about the benefits of not smoking seems to be the only one possible with them. Their houses become smoke free zones, so you go outside to indulge yourself in your despicable habit - to their tut tuts. Sooner or later you just stop going out with them and you visit their homes, only if you must.

I don't think that a total ban on smoking in pubs is what any reasonable person wants. There are thousands and thousands of addicts, like myself, who have smoked for years and have accepted that this will be something they will probably do till they die. When I began, the only warnings you'd get were from old men who'd warn you that it would stunt your growth or get soot up your nose. As research showed more and more harmful effects, I tried many times to quit but resigned myself to being a smoker for life about twenty years ago. I do try not to smoke too much into a second pack too often and that's about the best I can do.

Smoking's been around for a long time - longer than our modern society. Our modern society is extremely stressful and this is extremely stressful but this is OK - it's accepted as the 'Norm'. I believe that smoking is less harmful than stress and intolerance, which can only lead to more stress. The accepted norm nowadays is to live fast, work hard, play hard, climb over whoever gets in the way. The popular media reinforces this - as it keeps the wheels of business oiled, which in turn ensures their survival and I think it's killing us way faster than a few cigarettes. It's not sustainable but there are pills you can take when you get sick or when you feel sad and, provided most people buy into it, it will sustain itself for a while. The marginalized - drug addicts, abuse victims, homeless, mentally ill and free thinkers, once in a minority, can be kept in their place and, if you try really hard, almost ignored.

We've got a police force big and strong enough to bash the heads of a few hippies or students or any of the above who think otherwise but hey, they never seem to be about when the normal, fast living fast partying believers do the head bashing after a fun night out.

I've always been fond of Kerry (and the Kerry people seem to be quite fond of me.) In Kerry, the eccentrics seem to be celebrated rather than squashed, and I've just heard, on the radio, that Kerry publicans have just voted, unanimously, not to enforce the smoking ban. Which of the other 25 counties will be next to show its balls.

Far be it from me to encourage law breaking - but if anybody knows of any sites for standing up for the right to smoke, I'd really like to know about them. Imagine a group of people (smokers) around the country, 100,000 strong and on one or two nights a week at a nominated pub, as many as can make it, arrive at the pub between eight thirty and nine forty five, and at precisely nine fifty five - by the pub clock - all light up. What with bin protesters and disgraced politicians???, will the prisons be big enough to contain us all?