CPW: 
What are your connections with Irish dancing?  
LK: 
Well, back in Wexford where I was born and raised, some of my first adolescent 
crushes were on Irish dancers. They were usually pretty, always vivacious and 
vaguely exotic - Lorraine and Imelda in particular - I'll spare them the embarrassment 
of mentioning their family names. However, back then Irish dancing was seen as 
very old-fashioned: "auld Irish" was how it was spoken of. The parents of the 
dancers tended to be interested in the Irish language and often had strong nationalist 
sympathies. Most Irish people of that time, were trying to shed the influence 
of Eamonn DeValera and his xenophobic ideas (check out "Land of DeValera" 
on the independent Black 47 CD at : www.black47.com), 
and I'm afraid many of us tended to throw out the baby with the bath-water.  

When I was 16, I spent a 
month at an Irish-speaking college in Ballingeary in the West Cork Gaeltacht. 
Now it was decided beforehand that we rock-and-rollers from sophisticated Wexford 
ought to know some rudimentary Irish dance steps, so that we could mix it up with 
the rubes from West Cork. So, on Monday nights, for a couple of months, a bunch 
of us attended Ceili dancing classes sponsored by the Gaelic League in Wexford. 
Although initially skeptical, to our amazement, we totally enjoyed ourselves. 
For one thing, Ceili dancing was communal. You didn't have to seek out a partner 
but, through merely lining up for "The Walls of Limerick" or "The 
Siege of Ennis," you would end up dancing with a multitude of chaste young 
maidens. This was a mind-blower because back then, young Irish women routinely 
refused scores of men at regular rock and roll dances. In fact, attending a modern 
dance was often an existential nightmare, especially if you had the least trace 
of shyness or sensitivity. In stark contrast, the etiquette at Ceili dances encouraged 
young people to mingle and get to know one another. And, even if you did have 
two left feet, you could usually manage to kick seven steps one way, then turn 
on a 'one' and kick out another seven in the opposite direction, without falling 
head-over-heels on the floor. After a while, those of us who were anyway light 
on our feet were prancing around like a souped-up brood of bantam cocks. Suffice 
it to say that when we hit the dance floor in Ballingeary, we were the toast of 
the town. Eight Wexford punks kicking higher than the Rockettes, abrim with confidence, 
knowing full well that there wasn't a beauty in all of West Cork who would dare 
refuse us a dance.  
Years 
later, when Chris Byrne and I founded Black 47, we were determined to be different. 
Chris knew a lot of jigs and reels on the uilleann pipes and I began programming 
hip-hop beats on the drum machine that might suit the rhythms of those tunes. 
We wanted to modernize Irish music, put a bit of muscle behind it and drag it 
screaming into the late 20th Century. I was familiar with the great 'Celtic Rock' 
bands of the 70's, Fairport Convention, Horslips, Steeleye Span, etc., and while 
loving lots of their work, I was determined not to copy them, but to take their 
influences even further. Thus, with Black 47, the beat came first and the tune 
would have to be played in such a manner that it would conform to that pulse. 
This was the direct opposite of the way those aforementioned bands functioned. 
They would have a wonderful fiddler, such as Dave Swarbrick with Fairport, and 
the rhythm section of bass, drums and guitar would tend to complement him. The 
beat, in that case, would often turn into a 1-2 quickstep, not unlike a modern 
polka.  
We wanted 
the old tunes to react and adapt to modern urban beats. Why go back 20 years for 
your influences? Now, at first, there was a violent reaction against this kind 
of tampering with the old sounds - to add insult to injury, I was experimenting 
with feedback and distortion on guitar, and many of the songs I was writing were 
irreverent and reflected the immigrant life in New York City at the time. But 
eventually, young Irish-Americans began showing up at the gigs and, with a few 
pints in them, hitting the dance floor. To their surprise, they found that they 
could use the steps that they had learned in Irish dancing classes. Not only that, 
but because the beat was synchronized and choppy, they could let go in a way that 
they hadn't previously thought possible.  
Some 
of these dancers began to join us on stage for particular pieces such as "The 
Reels" (from the "Live in New York City" CD at:  
www.black47.com ) and "Johnny Byrne's Jig" (from the "On Fire" 
CD). I have always loved juxtaposition, so we used to encourage the dancers to 
wear the band's discarded black leather jackets. This was a great sight: this 
old form of culture dressed in modern outfits - the dancers eventually began showing 
up in their own punky clothes - Doc Martens, spiky haircuts, torn T-shirts and 
lots of gel. It was a blast and it was all so individual. Word spread about this 
carrying-on far from the Bronx and Manhattan, and when we played in numerous cities 
across the country, there would be a line of dancers waiting to join us on stage. 
The arrival of Riverdance and Michael 
Flatley changed all that. The punk look went out the window to be replaced 
again by uniformity (although of a different nature), and the dichotomy has pretty 
much vanished. The expertise has improved amazingly, the technique is formidable 
and a new flair has also been introduced. It would be hard to underestimate the 
influence of these two companies. We're all the richer for them - they have brought 
Irish dancing to the mass culture and, by so doing, have helped popularize all 
Irish entertainment.  

But 
to go back to an earlier time, when we recorded "Funky Ceili" in 1992, 
it became the most requested song nationwide on alternative and college radio, 
while the video became a staple on MTV. We shot Irish dancers in the night on 
2nd Avenue, outside Paddy Reilly's pub. Now that's right across the street from 
the multi-ethnic projects. It was wonderful to see the old steps being performed 
with such a dichotomous background. I'm sure it was the first time that many young 
Americans had ever seen Irish dancing.  
It 
was important to us, also, that not only were "professional" dancers encouraged 
to hit the stage, but if you only had a couple of steps in you, you were welcome 
too. Because, Irish dancing, to us, was about community and encouraging people 
to be individuals. I guess part of that goes back to my early nurturing experiences 
in Ceili dancing class. That's what Irish dancing means to me: propagation of 
the old culture to make sure it has a place in modernity, and the belief that 
everyone can dance, once they get over their initial shyness. Thus, at any Black 
47 gig you may witness very dynamic and expert technique or just sheer exuberance 
- it makes no difference to us - they are both welcome. And, to tell you the truth, 
we're pretty used to a real variety of expertise..  
One 
night at the Milwaukee Festival, about five years ago, some dancers asked beforehand 
if they could join us on stage. As usual, I replied, "of course." When the 
Trinity Irish Dance Company hit the 
boards, however, they floored us with their innovation, technique and sheer artistry. 
We became friends after the gig and some years later did a special with them for 
Milwaukee Public TV - Black 47 with the Trinity Irish Dance. That was quite an 
experience. The band was on the road constantly back then and had no time for 
rehearsals. However, we sent them an audio tape of some pieces that we might be 
doing - Black 47 changes its set every night, so that can be a problem. We had 
played the Guinness Fleadh in Chicago the night previously and, quite fatigued, 
arrived at this old Congregational Church in Milwaukee which houses the Irish 
Center. I think it was an 8-camera shoot, and the temperature inside was over 
100 degrees. The producers had built a stage about eight feet high behind us for 
the dancers. We never got a chance to see them. But every now and again, we'd 
hear the thunder of flying feet. Of course, for the sake of professionalism, we 
couldn't look back, but from the audience's response we could tell there was something 
amazing happening. At the end, they joined us on our stage for an encore, which 
was a manic version of "Maria's Wedding", if I'm not mistaken. The interaction 
was a sight to behold. Look out for the show on your PBS channel around St. Patrick's 
Day. It's become a favorite, perhaps because of the improvisational nature of 
the collaboration.  

In 
a more humorous vein: while touring in Argentina last year, I happened upon a 
performance by the San Patricio Ballet at an Irish gathering in the beautiful 
city of Rosario. I had just strolled into this event and was saying hello when 
I was suddenly whisked up onto the stage by the performers of this Argentinian-Irish 
dance troupe. Despite my protests that I was a musician not a dancer, I was flung 
around while gamely trying to remember my old Ceili steps. The place rose to its 
feet and applauded my efforts - because of the language barrier and cultural differences, 
I'm still unsure if the applause was genuine or if I was the victim of a big practical 
joke. However, when in doubt, bop 'til you drop. And, after about fifteen minutes 
I escaped, with a pounding heart. I collapsed in a chair, someone brought me a 
beer and I was taking my first sip when, lo and behold, I was grabbed again and 
once more dragged out onto the floor in an even wilder dance. Later that night 
at the Opera House in Rosario, Black 47 was joined on stage by the San Patricio 
Ballet. To be so far from Ireland, literally and figuratively, and to interact 
with these young people who had such a joy in their Irish culture and heritage 
was one of the most inspiring moments in my life. 
After 
the show, members of San Patricio asked my advice about how to improve their performance. 
I suggested that they combine the Irish steps with their own extraordinarily sensual 
dance - the tango. They were a bit taken aback by this, as their main inspirations 
were obviously Riverdance and Michael. And herein is my criticism of Irish dance 
as I see it today. And I hope this is taken with the same love and friendship 
with which it is given. (By the way, for what it's worth, I'm married to a modern 
dancer/choreographer and have written music extensively for modern dance, and 
consequently have spent a lot of time around dancers of various disciplines, backgrounds 
and skills.) I think Irish dance has become stuck on a Riverdance plateau. As 
I watch the various dancers get on stage with Black 47, I notice the same moves 
over and over. They are, of course, great moves and I often marvel at the technique. 
Undoubtedly, Riverdance and Michael have caused a revolution in Irish stepdancing. 
But the revolution should continue and not just stop there. There are so many 
other influences that can be combined with the traditional forms and the Riverdance 
innovations. There are many stories to be told through Irish stepdancing - the 
most important being the story of the Irish people. Unless dancers/choreographers 
introduce new influences and innovations, Irish dancing will stay locked in a 
Riverdance/Michael embrace and become as stagnant as it was 30 years ago. Keep 
yourselves open to new influences and music. But more than anything, don't allow 
any barrier to keep the sparks of your Irish souls from setting your feet on fire. 
Don't allow yourselves to get stuck in the "new tradition." But if you do, well 
then, come along to a Black 47 show some night, jump up on stage with us and we'll 
help sweep the cobwebs off your feet. And many thanks to all of you who have danced 
with us in the past. You're always an inspiration to me. 
 
 

  
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Photography 
Credits   
1. 
Irish Stepdancers join Black 47 on St. Patrick's Day, by Guenter Friedrichs