1 Green Suede Shoes (Kirwan) - 4:01
2 My Love Is in New York (Kirwan) - 4:18
3 Bobby Sands MP (Kirwan) - 6:00 Download MP3
4 Change (Kirwan) - 6:12
5 Czechoslovakia (Kirwan) - 4:09
6 Brooklyn Girls (Kirwan) - 4:13
7 Gerty's Farewell (Kirwan) - :44
8 Vinegar Hill (Kirwan) - 6:26
9 Sam Hall (Kirwan) - 4:51
10 Walk All the Days (Byrne) - 4:04
11 Five Points (Kirwan) - 2:46
12 Rory (Kirwan) - 3:07
13 Forty Deuce (Kirwan) - 6:37
14 Mo Bhrón (Kirwan) - 3:30
15 Green Suede Shoes ["Acoustic"] (Kirwan) - 4:00

Seamus Egan - Banjo
James Keane - Accordion
Steven Birch - Artwork, Design
Geoffrey Blythe - Sax (Baritone), Sax (Soprano), Sax (Tenor)
Ian Bryan - Engineer, Mixing
Chris Byrne - Vocals, Bodhrán, Uillean Pipes, Tin Whistle, Low Whistle
Mike Fazio - Guitar
Angel Fernandez - Trumpet
Thomas Hamlin - Drums, Drums, Djembe, Hand Percussion
Larry Kirwan - Guitar, Keyboards, Vocals, Producer, Mixing
Sherryl Marshall - Vocals
Mary Martello - Vocals
John Murray - Engineer
Fred Parcells - Trombone, Vocals, Tin Whistle
Tom Schneider - Artwork, Design, Layout Design
Dave Battelene - Engineer
Scott Hull - Mastering
Jon Carter - Engineer, Production Coordination
Keith Mannino - Assistant Engineer
Deborah Berg-McCarthy - Vocals
Jacob A. Riis - Photography, Back Cover
Marc Trunz - Photography
Andrew Goodsight - Guitar (Bass), Keyboards

I was sick of the whole idea of co-producing by this stage. I wanted to just get back in the studio and do what the band did best - just play live. And that's what we did. Most of the tuning problems just evaporated and we concentrated on the songs. Some of my favorite Black 47 songs were on this CD, Bobby Sands MP, Change and Vinegar Hill. I wanted to also feature the toughness and character of the band and the natural cohesion that we display on stage. I think we succeeded.. The CD was recorded for a budget of about $20,000, about 7% of the cost of Home of the Brave.

The truth is, that despite any difficulties in recording, I like all of the band's CDs. I'm constantly asked which is my favorite. And I don't have one. To me, they all sound very different but I'm equally fond of them all. For, in the end, they are all just collections of songs, stuck together in some way to make a coherent whole. That might sound unromantic but it's the truth. With Black 47, I've never had the opportunity to think in terms of a concept album, such as Sergeant Pepper (one of my favorites). No, CDs are always hammered out song by song; usually we record more than we need and then winnow the whole thing down to a manageable 12 or 13. Indeed, the CDs may not even contain the best songs - some technical error may have occurred and a song scrapped, never to be re-recorded. For some reason, going back is painful for me and, anyway, the future is always hammering on the door.

The fact that we continue to play gigs during the recording often leads to a state of fatigue which tends to obscure all objectivity. But that too is the nature of Black 47. Everyone needs the money from gigs to survive, so the question of sequestering ourselves in a studio and arguing out the pros and cons never arises. Perhaps, if that were the case, the cds would be a bit more polished but I don't know. We're rough diamonds and so are our CDs and each one seems to pass the test of time. I never listen to them but I hear them on jukeboxes and am always pleased that the song and the passion imbedded in it still shines through. Besides, how many people really sit and critique the sound of a bass or a snare drum? A good song endures - while a piece influenced by and relying on the fashion of the day now seems ludicrous. What constitutes a good song? Well, that's a topic for another time.

Speaking of bass. During this period we picked up the inimitable Andrew Goodsight. Let's go back to a snowy night in Providence, RI. We were playing The Strand- a massive old theater. It's since closed down and was a very impressive, but quite a scary, place. Of course, Providence has always been one of our strongholds. No, it's not the city that's scary. Rhode Island, with its miles of sea line is one of my favorite states - but the dressing rooms of this club were a at least a hundred feet up above the stage. Think about that as you clamber down with a few belts inside you and the strobe lights flashing. Still, it was a blistering show and the promoters insisted that we take the extra three cases of guinness home with us. No problem! However, the weather forecast was ominous. A snowstorm sweeping up I-95. It never occurred to us to stay over. No, with Herr Kornienko sober and at the wheel, and us with 3 cases of the hard in the back, we went for it.

Now usually after a gig we're in great form and whooping it up in the van and this was no exception. Kevin Jenkins was in a rare mood and regaling us with stories of life on the road. Around Lyme, CT. the snow hit us and we slowed down. The talk had turned to favorite bands and T Rex was mentioned. We were trying to remember how Mark Bolan met his Maker when all of a sudden we were flying around the van, as it hit the intersection, rolled over on its side, straightened up and turned over one more time into the ditch. Like idiots we didn't have our belts on and we floated around that van like rag dolls in a surreal rugby scrum. I ended upside down with Kevin's considerable black ass lying astride me. It was a scary few seconds that seemed to go on indefinitely. As we tried to right ourselves, I was sure my neck was broken. We were all bruised and battered as we tried to crawl out. At that moment, a car came slithering round the bend, hit us full on and we were thrown around once again, for good luck.

Finally, we did get out into the snow. Fred grabbed a case of Guinness, discombobulated but practical as ever, seeking to hide the evidence but it was too late. The other two cases were exploding like geysers on good old 95. With cars and trucks careening around the corner, we lit out for the hills. What a sight! Jenkins looked like an Old Testament Prophet, the snow settling on his dreads. Hammy searching frantically for his glasses. I met a dazed Fred hiding his case of guinness up in the woods (I guess it's still there, if the thirst ever hits you in CT.). The troopers were on the scene instantly and we couldn't figure it - later we realized that we'd crashed almost on their front lawn. And yes, one of them was a Black 47 fan, as the song says. We were taken into the hospital. My neck wasn't broken, but ribs badly bruised (I felt pain until the following September). And eventually, we took the commuter train home to NYC. What a sight! The six of us, battered, moaning, exhausted and depressed, mingling with the rush hour commuters.

The upshot of all this was that Kevin decided that he'd had enough of "the luck of them godamned Irish. Stick around with you mothers and I'll be history in a year!" He went back to playing with Cyndi Lauper and now leads the band of Enrique Iglesias. He still remains a great friend, a nail-em-to-the-wall bass player and we have a chuckle about "the good old days" when we meet. (I think we remind him of how lucky he is to be alive). And so, enter Mister Goodsight.

We weren't in a mood to rehearse and our next gig was in Atlanta. Andrew joined us there - I don't know how he learned the songs, maybe he didn't - and has been with us ever since. When was that? 1995/96? Oddly enough, on that first night in Hotlanta, coming from a late night party in the cold rain, the van was run into by a car whose driver had fallen asleep. No one was hurt. Welcome aboard, Andrew. Long may you flourish.

Andrew's musical riffs added greatly to Green Suede Shoes. One other remembrance of that recording: listening to Séamus Egan lifting the title track to another level. Many people wonder about Séamus' musicianship. He's probably the closest thing to genius that we have on the Irish scene. Check out his playing on any Solas album. I think it's his timing that sets him apart. He can shake a melody around effortlessly within a four beat bar. Talk about playing in the pocket. Listen to the jaunty spring in his banjo on Green Suede Shoes and his flute on Different Drummer.

The recording of Mo Bhrón was also magickal. Mary Martello is a very dear and old friend of mine. She is an exceptional actress, singer and person. Hers is also the voice on The Big Fellah and Our Lady of the Bronx. I love working with her as she is so fearless. She's never even heard Gaelic being spoken but has an uncanny feel for the sound of words and can always summon up the appropriate passion to bring them to life. I write out the text phonetically, explain what it's about and then she just lets her voice, musicianship and womanly ways interpret it. We did that track in one take - me playing synthesizer but, in reality just trying to stay apace with her passion. For me, in an odd way, Mo Bhron sums up all the pain, longing and hope in emigration. I hope you're well, Mary, and still thrilling all those who come in contact with you.

When the recording was finished, I delivered it to our lawyer, Richard Grabel who sent it off post haste to Danny Goldberg at Mercury Records. Now Danny had thought of signing the band when he was with Atlantic and I had always had a good relationship with him. The next day, he called me and said that he cried as he listened to Bobby Sands MP; he hadn't cried in some time, and that was a good enough reason to sign anyone. Seemed like a good enough reason to me too. And so, we joined our second major label.

I still like Danny a lot. But being with Mercury Records almost drove me around the bend. Danny might have loved Black 47 but most of the other people up there seemed to think that we dropped down fully formed from Alpha Centauri. They just didn't know what to make of the music or what to do with us. I found this puzzling. Black 47 might be original but, for Christ's sake, the songs have a beginning, middle and end. It's not like we're Van De Graf Generator (one of my all time favorites! Where are you now, Peter Hamill, one of "rock's" great songwriters) Of course, at that time, Mercury's hottest act was Hanson and it does take a stretch of the imagination to picture us in their rarified stratosphere.

Back then too, I didn't know the nitty gritty of what was going on inside the label. Danny had also dropped down out of the sky and been made boss only months before. He brought along a lot of his own people and there was wholesale resentment within. The things you learn in retrospect! Anyway, the cd was released, got good reviews but radio was getting even tighter. Still, the cd was big with our fans and brought us many new ones, the title track made a big impact on college radio, songs like Bobby Sands MP added to the legend and as the guy says "That's the story so far of Black 47."

But it wasn't. The story went on. Rip roaring gigs and a whole new crowd. I don't know why we picked up so many new young fans. We definitely weren't getting any younger ourselves. But there they were coming to see us at shows all over the country. Was it because the cds were lying around people's houses and kids were picking them up and discovering their own favorite songs? The kid who was 12 when Funky Céilí came out was now 16 or 17 and turning on his and her friends to the band. Or was it because there was just nothing much else out there of significance? I don't know but around 1996-97 our audiences changed. As often happens, your original following grows up, gets married, still is into the band but with the first child coming along, can't get out to gigs anymore. Chris Byrne and I had laughed about becoming the voice of the New Irish in America but now we were, without any effort, fast becoming the voice of young Irish America. We were invited to all their colleges, Notre Dame, BC, Manhattan, Iona, Holy Cross etc and we continue to play for them. They are our base and when they go home to their towns and cities all over the country, they bring their cds with them and spread the word about the band that was rocking their college dorms.

Round about this time, we did the infamous St. Patrick's Day gig at The Academy on 43rd St. in Manhattan. St. Patrick's Days are usually a blur for us. We play non-stop for a month beforehand and then are hit with the amazing wild energy of the day itself. I've often equated it to being on the back of a wild stallion. You go with it or else get thrown off. Many bands have to stoop to trotting out the usual blend of fast Irish songs, just to stay abreast of things. Luckily for us, songs like Funky Céilí, Rockin' The Bronx, Livin' in America, etc have become synonymous with St. Patrick's Day in New York. That gig at the Academy was particularly good. Some nights you just have it and nothing can go wrong. Other nights you're swimming upstream, waiting for "the moment" to come (It comes eventually at a Black 47 gig, but now and then you have to fight like a dog for it - often a mistake - better to relax and trust in the songs, they never let us down).

It was the encore, the lights were flashing, the crowd was going crazy, the dance floor pulsing and we were doing Maria's Wedding. Suddenly, there was a strange smell - rather like too many firecrackers going off at once. I never heard the sound, although others say they did. Someone came out on stage and said something to me. I just smiled back. Then another person ran out, looking very worried. You have to remember that this is something that often happens when the crowd gets going. Management, promoters, owners always seem to want to throw their weight around. But, from my perspective, once we hit that stage, we are the ones in control. The show goes on - no matter what and no one, but us, is going to stop it!

Finally, Josh Cheuse came out. Now he is a close friend - he designed the covers of both Home of the Braves - and someone I trust. He looked shocked and had blood all over his clothes. At that point, I knew something had gone terribly wrong but the audience was still jumping around to the song. He said there had been a shooting on the balcony right next to him and I definitely became fearful. Ever since the British gutter press had pronounced us "the musical wing of the IRA", we had been wary of some kind of attack. But, to my dismay, I could see that the side-exit doors of the Academy were not, as yet, open. I knew that if we stopped playing suddenly there would be a rush for the small front door which would have been catastrophic. I told Josh that we couldn't leave the stage until the management opened the side doors. And so we played on for another couple of exceedingly long minutes. Now everything looked ominous - particularly the balcony. Eventually, the lights came up and the side doors were opened. We finished the song, in an orderly manner, and people filed out onto the street unaware of the drama that had just happened above them. It was some minutes later before we found out that an off-duty member of the NYPD had accidentally shot himself and that members of our families had been wounded in the shooting.

BLACK 47: GREEN SUEDE SHOES
New York City is a natural place to spawn a sound made up of traditional Irish pipes and horns, reggae beats, big band sounds and rock 'n' roll - something like what the Irish ex-patriots in Black 47 have put together. The sextet's instrumentation includes, guitars, horns, pipes, keyboards, tin whistles and a saxophone. Although the band has three previous releases, Green Suede Shoes is its first through Tim Kerr-Mercury. Black 47 is most famous for consistently packing an Irish pub on New York's East Side; recreating that experience, Green Suede Shoes will have you swaying with a frosty glass of your favorite ale, singing along with all your pals, and laughing at the charm and wit of the stories being told. Vocalist/guitarist Larry Kirwan communicates a strong message, as well as a zesty spirit of fun, in every song. While the title track has a Celtic feel, its lyrics make references to New York City, Hoboken and Providence as they tell a tale about the band's various live performances. Ethereal vocals accompany the leads on "Bobby Sands MP" and "Mo Bhron." Black 47 stimulates both the brain and the feet, forcing you to think as you dance. - BRENDA LINGUITI: CMJ New Music Report