The Dutchman – Margaret’s Song

The Dutchman is a beautifully sad song about an old couple from Amsterdam. The old man is in the late stages of dementia and his wife, Margaret, remembers life on his behalf. One of the most profound lines in the song is, “sometimes she sees her unborn children in his eyes,” a line that Brian Adams would later use in a Robin Hood song. It was a song my mother loved, most likely because Margaret was the main character. (My Dad by the way, was sharp as a tack until the end – no parallel for him in the song). It’s a special song because I got to sing it with my sisters in the hospice room when Mom was in her final days over a decade ago. Last December I got a call from Dad. I just knew it would be the last time I’d talk to him. After our call, my sisters played this recording to him. Perhaps they get to listen to it together now.

Written by Chicagoan Michael Smith, it was presented to Liam Clancy who brought it into the Irish psyche where it remained. As they say in America, we are suckers for a sad song. The arrangement I do was completely lifted from fellow Dubliner Al Tinley. I lifted many of his songs in the 90s. Sorry Squid. It’s one of my favorite songs to play because it has a consistent baseline foundation where the thumb rocks back and forth between the low E and D while the fingers come out to play with the melody. Note, they don’t ‘play the melody,’ they come out to play with it, because that’s how it feels every time I play it. It’s as if the thumb is telling the fingers, “I’ve got this, go play.”

This version was recorded in Jesse Roe’s apartment on the north side of Chicago when I was 27 years old. I never tire of playing it.

Enjoy

Ride On- The Song I stole from Skinner

In my memory, Skinner (my big brother Kevin) was the first person to sing this song at his wedding in 1993. I must have heard it before then, I just can’t recall. The thing I love about Skinner is that not knowing the words to a song never stopped him. He just plows through the song with passion, making up words, even words that are not in the English language. I’ve adopted this technique while playing live recently and it works. Nobody notices. They will notice when I smirk, or make a face, or announce that I forgot the words, and of course, if I restart the song. But recently I adopted Kevin’s technique and just made up a few words. At a show in February, after coming off the chorus of Waltzing Matilda, I saw the verse coming around the corner and realized I couldn’t remember it. I didn’t panic. I added some Skinner, and voila!

Ride on was written by Corkman Jimmy McCarthy. I have no idea what it is about. I just started to google that and decided to come here and state I don’t care to know what it is about, because it may steal from the song. It’s another oldy I’ve been playing for almost 30 years. Bridgette and I sang it at our wedding, which, looking back, wasn’t cool as it was Skinner’s wedding song. I am the blackbird of songs; why build your own song when you can snuggle in on someone else’s. I digress. There is a haunting vibe to this song, something ancient, that taps into the Celtic root. In recent years I’ve added the intro guitar lead that appears on Christy Moore’s 1980’s version. I use a looper pedal to record the arpegio, hit playback, and then fill in the lead. It’s the icing that’s been missing on it.

Enjoy

Under the Milky Way with the lads

Under the Milky Way by the Church was first introduced to me by Mike Phillips in the summer of 1990. He sat in the Market Data Services room by O’Connor’s Trading floor in the CBOT building where we worked. I visited him quite frequently because he had the best taste in music. I’d heard the song upon it’s release in 1986 but it didn’t register as anything special. I borrowed the tape from Mike and would play it loudly on Saturdays in my 1978 Oldsmobile 98 as I drove it down southwest highway.

I soon tired of the song, but it resurrected again a few years later during a jam session. Al, Paul and Bill (my brother) would gather weekly in my apartment in Worth, IL and practice guitar. Al was our teacher. Our first lesson was Under the Milky Way because it was recorded with two acoustic guitars, one open and one capo’d on the 5ft fret; a perfect song for new students. My homework was to practice it on the fifth fret. I practiced every spare moment and presented the song back to my classmates the following week.

That same year, Al got a weekly show at the Irish Times in Brookfield, Illinois. One Saturday night, he invited me on stage. It was my first time playing in front of a crowd, and this was the song we played. I’d eventually get my own shows and invite him on stage.

The best part of this song was that it was born at a time when I got to be with my two good friends and my big brother Bill once a week.

Enjoy

This was from a live show in Java Joes Chicago in 1998/99. Al joined me on stage. (forgive the bad joke, I tried for 15 minutes to trim it out but it would not work)