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electriclandEsther had the very brilliant idea to start celebrating St. Patrick's Day early at the Old Dublin. So we went. The Old Dub is always a nostalgia trip for me anyway -- my first Irish (OK, Montreal Irish) pub, first legal hangout, memories of drunken evenings out from RVC, etc -- and particularly when Liam Callaghan is playing (he mentioned that it's his 15th St. Paddy's Day at the Old Dub, an anniversary of sorts). As always he looked at least half-asleep, but the fiddler (name of Fiona) had energy to spare. The bassist, as always, anonymous (new guy though -- the multitasking bass/whistle/flute/bodhran player had to go live in Ontario if I caught that right).
Double nostalgia on this occasion since they played The Foggy Dew, a tune I first encountered as Living in America by Black 47. K introduced me to it first, but Nova Comics always seemed to have it on when I went down there. That was a great store -- it was in a massive old building on Ste-Catherine, opposite Sam's when Sam's was still alive, one of those huge buildings that seems to have a little of everything in it, a comic store and a karate studio and a used record store (and I do mean record) and goodness knows what else. Broad hallways, high ceilings, sweeping staircases, an air of quiet and neglect and dust and long lazy summer afternoons. I loved it. This was back in the early 90s, when Montreal was still mired in gritty urban decay and rents were $200 a month most places and there were huge gaping holes along all the major streets and the developers hadn't noticed us yet. I think there's a Future Shop in there now.
Double nostalgia on this occasion since they played The Foggy Dew, a tune I first encountered as Living in America by Black 47. K introduced me to it first, but Nova Comics always seemed to have it on when I went down there. That was a great store -- it was in a massive old building on Ste-Catherine, opposite Sam's when Sam's was still alive, one of those huge buildings that seems to have a little of everything in it, a comic store and a karate studio and a used record store (and I do mean record) and goodness knows what else. Broad hallways, high ceilings, sweeping staircases, an air of quiet and neglect and dust and long lazy summer afternoons. I loved it. This was back in the early 90s, when Montreal was still mired in gritty urban decay and rents were $200 a month most places and there were huge gaping holes along all the major streets and the developers hadn't noticed us yet. I think there's a Future Shop in there now.
