Pop Music Review : Spirit of the Irish Comes Alive

Larry Kirwan, lead singer of Black 47, must have felt at least a bit out of place when his group first took the stage Tuesday night at the Coach House.

Black 47’s fiery, politically charged vision is borne of Kirwan’s eloquently pointed rage, full of historical references to famous and obscure heroes from his native Ireland plus more contemporary allusions to the teeming streets of New York City, where Kirwan has spent his adult years.

The crowd this night was embarrassingly sparse, and affluent, conservative Orange County is a far cry from the steaming Irish pubs of Hell’s Kitchen, whence came Black 47 (named for the worst year of Ireland’s Great Potato Famine).

The diminutive, fragile-looking singer was subdued, perhaps ill-at-ease for the first few songs. But before long, he seemed to realize that the small but devoted gathering was on his side, and then Kirwan and company came alive, delivering a blistering set of Celtic rock that was by turns raucous and tender, venomous and full of rejoicing.

Mixing Euro-punk sensibility with traditional Irish melody and instrumentation, East Coast rock Populism and even flourishes of reggae and hip-hop, the group’s sound draws from many and diverse sources.

This was a refreshing night of music by real people for real people, harking back to a time not so long ago when rock ‘n’ roll was something more than commerce, fashion statements and self-serving whining.

Raunched-out guitars and drum machines met bagpipes, saxophones, tin whistles and a variety of percussion instruments in a head-on collision of joyful noise.

Repeatedly thrusting his fist into the air in a “Power to the People” sign, jumping up and down, dancing a jig and grinning from ear to ear, Kirwan was an animated, immensely appealing front man. He sang of heroes as diverse as American civil rights activist and performer Paul Robeson, rock ‘n’ roll singer Bobby Fuller and Irish political figure Michael Collins. His voice was eerily reminiscent of Dexy’s Kevin Rowland, and he looked something like a hung-over Bryan Adams. All in all, he was a reedy, rumpled delight.

Kirwan’s fans cheered his every word and needling references to Newt Gingrich and Republicans in general, danced around the room with wanton glee, sang along to the many songs they knew by heart, joined him onstage and generally had one helluva good time. At times, the Coach House seemed transformed into an Irish camp meeting.

With Bob Dylan, Neil Young, Joe Strummer, Ellen Barkin and Robin Williams numbering among its fans, Black 47 has become something of a cause celebre among the entertainment-world cognoscenti.

If the group seems like a visitor from another world in mellow Southern California, it is a world that more locals would do well to visit next time.