11. The Man From Connemara

© Robbie O’Connell 1992 Slievenamon Music (BMI)

James Keane senior, known to one and all as, “The Horse,” was the father of my great friend and musical collaborator, accordionist Jimmy Keane. The Horse was born in Connemara and spent some years in England before settling, with his family, in Chicago. Although he made his living as an iron worker on the construction of Chicago’s skyscrapers, he was well known as a fine sean-nós singer in both Irish and English. When he died in a tragic work-related accident in 1989, I wrote this song as a tribute to him. The final verse in Irish was translated by Willie Mahon.

Like Joe Heaney, before him, the Horse’s songs brought a trace of the rugged west of Ireland landscape to American concert halls and sessions. The passion in his voice was almost tangible. His face would turn red and the muscles would stand out on his neck as he poured his soul into his performance. Afterwards, he might ask, “Did you like my ould singing?”

There were many men and women who crossed the Atlantic Ocean in the last few centuries, bringing the music and culture of their native place with them. It didn’t always flourish in strange surroundings but enough of it survived to create the legacy that can be found today in the numerous American-born musicians and singers who proudly carry on the old Irish tradition in the new world.

Lyrics:

THE MAN FROM CONNEMARA

© Robbie O’Connell 1992 Slievenamon Music (BMI)

He spent his youth among the stones
The ocean thundered in his bones
His heart was tempered by its drone
The man from Connemara
He always stood out from the crowd
A noble horse as strong and proud
As every rocky field he ploughed
The man from Connemara

He left his home and family
To search for work across the sea
But he never lost his dignity
The man from Connemara
He carved his place in foreign lands
And forged a new life with his hands
Where others failed he made a stand
The man from Connemara

He always sang with power and grace
In the language of his native place
And the fire of passion in his face
The man from Connemara
His life was captured in his songs
His melodies were old and strong
They hit you hard and lingered long
The man from Connemara

I measc na gcloch i dtúis a shaoil
I nguagail mhara a fuair se gaoil
Dilseacht croi a chuir thar mhaoil
Sa bhfear as Conamara