As in most aspects of life, what goes around tends to come around in Rock’n’Roll. Twenty years ago, a bunch of likeable County Galway rogues called THE SAW DOCTORS broke through with their debut album ‘If This is Rock’n’Roll, I Want My Old Job Back.’ Stuffed with hear-once-remember-forever hits like ‘N17’ and the irrepressible ‘I Useta Lover’, it blended the send ‘em home sweatin’ excitement of the Irish showband tradition, a few strategic Celtic folk flavours and the anthemic vim of punk. Not surprisingly, it was a massive hit in the pre-Celtic Tiger days of economic uncertainty.
Fast forward two decades and the circumstances seem frighteningly familiar. The Celtic Tiger economy is extinct, the IMF is coming to town and the population is leaving in droves. In the midst of it, The Saw Doctors have recently released their seventh studio album ‘The Further Adventures of the Saw Doctors’ and they’re here on a blustery Saturday night in Cork with fresh clutch of tunes reflecting the joy, sadness and quirky minutiae of life in recession-hit Ireland.
It’s no surprise that these guys have survived. Their smartly-observed, rabble-rousing anthems still attract an across-the-board audience (cider-swigging dreadlock types run shoulders with figure-hugging, stiletto-wearing party girls tonight) and while they may be a little older, stamina still isn’t a problem for our Galway heroes, as we can attest after a two-hour set including a generous twenty-minute encore lobbed in for good measure.
That they’re natural showmen doesn’t hurt of course. Co-frontmen Leo Moran and Davy Carton are as irreverent as ever; daft Harry Worth-style leg moves are wheeled out for ‘Tommy K’ (the second song!) and the temptation to throw silly, Status Quo-style formation guitar shapes is never too far away. But to dismiss the Saw Doctors as a mere frivolity would be a serious under-estimation of their abilities.
New album ‘The Further Adventures of the Saw Doctors’ has a cartoon-y title, but it contains some of the band’s most enduring songs to date. Tough, Clash-style rockers ‘Takin’ the Train’ and ‘Hazard’ (“targets won’t matter/ deadlines won’t matter/ the pressure won’t matter”) are acutely accurate snapshots of a country on the ropes of unemployment. ‘Indian Summer’ is suffused with a gorgeous, autumnal longing and the poignant lyrical content of the smouldering ‘Goodnight Again’ (“here we are, looking out to sea/ those waves will break long after you and me”) is enough to melt the hardest of hearts.
It’s a testament to the strength of these songs that they’re not dwarfed by the rampant greatest hits and favoured album tracks surrounding them. Sure, these inevitably include the lotto-obsessed ‘To Win Just Once’ and a positively atomic ‘I Useta Lover’, but often the Saw Doctors are actually at their best on slow-burners like the passionate pilgrims’ anthem ‘Green & Red of Mayo’, an ever-wistful ‘Clare Island’ and the wonderfully downbeat ‘Same oul’ Town’. This latter is surely a Connacht-style take of Morrissey’s ‘Everyday is Like Sunday’ and it perfectly captures the melancholic detail of small-town rural Ireland out of season.
|
Sure, most bands are quick to point out that their current line-up is the best, but in the Saw Doctors’ case, that’s unequivocally true. Carton’s rousing vocals always lead the way, but in relative ‘new’ boys Kevin Duffy (keyboards/ accordion) and drummer Eimhin Cradock, they have two absolute powerhouses. Cradock’s versatility is especially impressive, while ex-Waterboys man Anthony Thistlethwaite is the embodiment of subtle muso cool on bass. And that’s very much a compliment in this case.
A proud ‘N17’ (sing it – “stone walls and the grass is green!”) closes the main set, but there’s still time for a generous slew of encores including ‘Red Cortina’ and a supremely silly medley of Petula Clark’s ‘Downtown’ and (ahem) ‘Will You Still Love Me Tomorrow’. Ideal fare for one inebriated group near W&H who end the night drinking beer through a cone warning of a wet floor where some beer glasses have been smashed. But then it is Saturday night and there are places to go on to and hair to be let down.
While they’d probably baulk at being described as an ‘institution’, it’s clear that The Saw Doctors still have no intention of letting us down. In these treacherous times, we need their boisterous anthems, their melancholic wisdom and their unfailing humanity more than ever. A Saturday night in the city is just fine, but really any excuse will do to raise a glass to these enduring characters.
The Saw Doctors online
|
