I grew up in the exciting, anxious world of Dublin in the time of the Beatles, the Clancy Brothers, Brendan Behan, the Late Late Show and the Clontarf Cricket Club Saturday Night Hop.

The first time I remember singing is for my mother when I was about 5 years old. It was Johnny Ray’s, “Walking in the Rain”, swinging an umbrella like an eejit around the living room. There was always music in my house. Richard Tauber from my mother, my father buying second-hand 78’s in Talbot Street, my brother introducing me to Elvis music (thank God). Mrs Grant tried to teach me the piano. Her patience outlasted my bruised knuckles. My brother Tony gave me my first guitar and my first 3 chords (A, D & E). I played in some folk bands and then toured Holland and Spain, bearded and guitared… like a poor-man’s Cat Stevens.

Eventually I lived in Amsterdam, Cork, Ibiza, San Francisco, Brussels, Strasbourg, Walnut Creek (California), Wavre (Belgium) and Galway. I sing, write songs and play guitar, keyboard & banjo. My life orbits Helen, Michael (my children) and almost, without limits, the music.

Several times the stresses of life have threatened to rip the music out of my soul but always, in these times, I have been rescued. These rescuers know who they are… but just in case. Thank you Frank and May Gannon, Helen Gannon, Michael Gannon, Tony Gannon, Loree Capper, Pete Tormey, Joe Sullivan, Stephen Morgan, Connie Doolan, Shay Black, Teddy Maricq and Luc Dewarichet.

(*): not Killester, Clontarf or Dollymount