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Rocky Road To Dublin Passes Through Seattle
On Tuesday night, I had the pleasure of catching a Dropkick Murphys gig at the Showbox. Since I have, in the past, expounded at length on why this band is so goddamn awesome, I’ll spare you more of my blather.
Wait, no I won’t. This band is goddamn awesome.
I will admit to a passing fear, before the show, that the Dropkicks would be subjected to “The Seattle Treatment” – ie, that all the energy would be sucked out of the building by the torpor of an all-black-attired, shoegazing crowd of too-hip-for-thou latte-sucking twits. Luckily, that was not the case. In fact, judging by the percentage of Red Sox hats, Bruins jerseys, and Southie accents in the crowd, there were no actual Seattleites present at all, which was of course a huge relief. Go slink off to your cafe and continue pretending Death Cab For Cutie is good music, you vacuous weenies. The real folks are here to listen to some rock and roll.
Anyway, all the elements that make for a Dropkicks show were on full display: raw, 900 mph punk anthems accompanied by mandolins, bagpipes and whistles; a generous helping of punked-up Irish folk tunes and protest anthems mixed in with the originals; and a raucous, beer-swilling crowd that sang along at the tops of their lungs to every word of every song.
The party atmosphere of the show did turn somber once, when the band broke into a slowed-down version of “The Fields of Athenry,” which they dedicated to Sgt. Andrew Farrar, a fan of the band who was killed in Iraq. However, lest anyone assume their support of the troops also implies support for the government that sent them to war, the lyrics to several other songs in the set list should serve to clear up that misconception.
I could go on and on, but I’ll just wrap up with the sincere admonition to go see this band if you get the chance. It won’t change the world, and it won’t make the Bush administration shrivel up in a ball and disappear,* but for a few hours at least, you can forget your troubles and shout til the rafters shake.
(*Of course, if another Irishman has his way, most of that gang of liars, thugs and killers will soon be marched off in handcuffs, anyway.)
