So Paddy Reilly’s has reopened. Welcome back. Though your absence was short, you were missed.
It’s not just that New York City is daily becoming less of an Irish town and any pub is a loss; no, it’s that Reilly’s stood for something: original Irish music that had something to say.
You may not have noticed it but live music is on the ropes right now. Sure you’ve got Taylor Swift packing them in, fair play to her. But that’s American Express music. It costs an arm and a leg and is designed to keep you purring and never to offend.
When was the last time you strolled into a pub and were blown away by some band singing songs that you never even imagined before, all the while challenging you with their opinions?
In the early days, that’s what Reilly’s was about. Chris Byrne and I formed Black 47 in there. We figured that with Bob Marley dead and The Clash disbanded there was an opening for a political band playing original music.
We didn’t have any songs but we did have gigs, as Chris’s band, Beyond The Pale, broke up that night and he had a scattering of engagements to fulfill in The Bronx.
The Prodigals.
We knocked off some originals that week, compiled a list of interesting songs we could jam on, and the following Friday we hit The Bronx.
Or rather, The Bronx hit us. Let’s just say each of those early gigs was a battle that ended up in a no-decision. Basically speaking, we got out alive.
But it was late 1989, a recession was raging, bands were needed on Bainbridge, and we were no sooner fired by one joint than hired by another.
Months later, when we returned to Paddy Reilly’s, we had many original songs, a growing following and an “independent” reputation. When someone demanded a Pogues song, a typical riposte was, “When was the last time you heard The Pogues do a Black 47 song?”
Steve Duggan, manager and eventually owner of Paddy Reilly’s, saw our potential. And why not? The place was jammed, the pints were flowing, enough said!
But it wasn’t just Black 47. Though we established a residency on Wednesdays and Saturdays, a scene began. Soon Spéir Mór were playing Fridays, Rogue’s March Sundays, Paddy A-Go-Go Mondays, Eileen Ivers and Seamus Egan Tuesdays, with a top of the line Seisiún every Thursday. The Prodigals eventually took over Fridays and continue to play there to this day.
All of these bands made an impact nationally, along with many others who packed this small Second Avenue venue. The key was originality. Everyone was writing their own songs and creating their own style.
Eileen Ivers. 
There’s nothing wrong with playing standards, but that ground has already been well covered; there comes a time when you’ve got to put your best foot forward and reach for the stars.
Black 47 eventually performed everywhere from stadiums to Leno, Letterman, and O’Brien, but a night in Reilly’s stands out.
We were introducing a new song, it was long, involved, and barely rehearsed, but as we played something happened that became bigger than all of us; the audience stood rapt in attention and the silence continued for a long moment after we’d finished. The song was "James Connolly" and it’s gone on to become a civil rights anthem.
It’s almost impossible for musicians to make a living now. Streaming killed CDs, a vital revenue stream for most touring bands, while the pandemic has put the kibosh on so many live venues.
Oddly enough, the humble Irish pub could be the savior. Unlike many celebrated rock venues, pub owners know their business and are willing to take chances. It’s the musicians responsibility to draw the crowds.
Connolly’s on 47th Street has a great sound system and a tradition of packed houses. Ulysses on Stone Street has a new state of the art Music Room.
So welcome back, Paddy Reilly’s! It’s the best of times and the worst of times, but people will always love live music. It’s just got to be original and say something to the young people of today, much like it did in the Paddy Reilly’s of yesterday.
