With the possible exceptions of the late Jimmy Kennedy and Phil Coulter, Jimmy MacCarthy is arguably the most covered songwriter this country has ever produced, with, it is reckoned, over one thousand versions of his songs registered, including four hundred of ‘Ride On’ alone, right up to the appearance of ‘No Frontiers’ on the most recent Corrs’ album.

In the wake of the release of his new solo album The Moment hotpress caught up with the former jockey to get the latest gen on the art of the singer-songwriter.

Like almost all established Irish artists bar a favoured few, MacCarthy has released The Moment on his own label at a time when the volume of Irish releases, both singles and albums, has reached epidemic proportions. In the past, he has had his confrontations with RTE over their lack of support for indigenous music, but they’ve since kissed and made up.

MacCarthy admits that the escalating number of releases is a problem. “For new people it’s never been more difficult. I work a bit with Super AD who worked with me and an amazing painter called Rasher on the album packaging, and they’re in the same boat, trying to make an impression in an increasingly competitive business. Record companies can work very well on the promotion and distribution front when they choose to, but with your own label you’re under no pressure. You’re in total control, though you might have less money. There’s pros and cons. But for people like Kieran Goss, Pierce Turner or myself it’s an uphill struggle and it’s hard to keep the smile on the face all the time.”

The Moment is also notable for the fact that most of the tracks clock in at around the three to four-minute mark, not always the case with self-released albums. MacCarthy explains that he learned the lesson on previous albums. “Some of my previous tracks were like small books! In fact the shortest track on The Moment is ‘The Singing Bird’, and it’s 2.46 long, the exact same length as ‘Ride On’. That’s how long it took to say what I needed to say. But sometimes the subject matter and what you have to say about it mean you have to make it longer than might be commercially preferable. But I’m not forced to write short songs. It comes to me naturally when it’s appropriate for the subject matter.”

While he admits to being “unbelievably” self-critical during the recording process, I wonder does he welcome the input of somebody who might challenge him a bit? MacCarthy good-humouredly reckons that nobody can be as critical of him as he is himself, but goes on to heap praise on his co-producer Pat O’Donnell. MacCarthy speaks equally fondly of Declan Sinnott in his forthcoming book Ride On – Jimmy MacCarthy In Song And Story. “When we were in Southpaw the most exciting moments were not as you might expect doing the gigs or making the recordings but when Declan strapped on the Telecaster to work on a new arrangement with me. It was like catching a glimpse of a rare and majestic creature who induced awe in all of us.”

So how does The Moment fit in with his previous albums?

“I think it’s a friendly album that enables me to move forward in any direction I choose, whereas previous albums like The Song Of The Singing Horseman and The Dreamer were less so. They may have given the impression that I was somebody who could only do deep things, but this is another more accessible side of me. The mystical side was probably reinforced by the songs of mine that were recorded by Mary Black and Christy Moore (pictured) and others.”

Given his reputation as something of a perfectionist, one might well wonder if he’s precious about the cover versions of his songs?

“I’m not precious after I let them go, although I’m very careful about the people I let them go to. But if you take ‘Ride On’ as an example, Christy’s version was the first and that’s the definitive version. Maybe if that hadn’t come about we wouldn’t be here talking today. Yet that came after his version of Christy Hennessy’s ‘Don’t Forget Your Shovel’. Sometimes I’ve thought after hearing a version of one of my songs that it might have helped if they’d asked me a little about it, but once the definitive version is out there I can hear it murdered every day and it doesn’t bother me. Once the template is there it tends to reduce the possibility of inappropriate interpretations anyway. ‘Ride On’ gets a lot of bizarre airings at weddings, don’t ask me why!”

MacCarthy’s tendency towards musical precision and his intelligent and literate approach to lyrics recall the work of Paul Simon. “I love Paul Simon, and this album is closer to that kind of writing than anything I’ve done before. I’m very slow with a song. The more metaphorical you become the more careful you need to be. A word moved in ordinary language is ok. A word moved in a narrative song like ‘The Contender’ is less of a problem than a word moved in ‘Ride On’ or in ‘The Bright Blue Rose’. Only the writer can take you to the place and the listeners have to take it on face value that you know what you’re doing.”

Who else have been influences?

“I like Randy Newman a lot, and Tom Waits is one of the greatest ballad writers ever. His use of language and the flow of images lifts me. In the early days I was influenced by the lyrical flow of Hermann Hesse’s books. But my earliest musical influences were a mix of the various things I heard on pop radio, from ‘Adios Amigo’ to ‘Liverpool Lou’. When we got electric guitars I got into The Supremes, The Beatles, The Animals. It’s even reflected in the names of the bands I was in, starting with The Young Ones, and when we got heavier it was Crimson Sunset and then went really way out with Dead Beat Motion! So I’m not from the folk tradition as some people assume. I’m a child of the radio.”

On the subject of the folk tradition, I put it to MacCarthy that despite the fact that we are living through times of great corruption in the churches, the Gardai, our banking institutions, politics and so on, almost none of this is reflected in the work of our songwriters as it would in the past in the hands of, say, Woody Guthrie.

“I think we already did it. People like Christy did it. I myself wrote songs about the nuclear issues. These are the good days, days of transparency, with regard to the Church, business institutions and politics. A politician can hardly scratch without having to account for it, they’re under so much scrutiny.”

But, I argue, this implies that there’s nothing for writers to write about any more other than relationships. Whereas Lou Reed can express his vitriol at the treatment of the homeless and the poor in New York with real anger and rage, this rage is missing from the works of virtually all Irish artists across all genres today. I put it to MacCarthy that if Guthrie was around today he’d be writing about the tribunals and the corruption and the lies, wouldn’t he?

But the Corkman is having none of it and reads extracts from the song ‘The Christian Telephone’ and from his forthcoming book which make some searing statements about religious hypocrisy before adding that he finds relationships extremely political anyway.

Of course there’s no evidence that transparency in itself will make priests and politicians less corrupt, but the point is taken that maybe songwriters actually got there before most of the rest of us, and MacCarthy makes a case for his new album touching on subjects other than relationships.

As he explains, “The song ‘Original Doubt’ on the new album actually deals with trans-generational dysfunction. Over the years I’ve become interested in all kinds of healing processes, including bio-energy, the Alexander technique, Yoga and many others which are very valuable stepping stones. But I’ve noticed that when you walk out of some healers’ houses you’ll find on the wall the quote ‘It’s your parents fault’. I don’t buy that. In ‘Original Doubt’ I write about us being solitary guinea-pigs down in the archaeological dig of our own lives in search of sacred sanctuary. You have to go there yourself. But your parents are also guinea pigs! You must take responsibility. I believe in us being our own experiment, but our parents are also their own experiments. There’s something less than wholesome about blaming others for our own actions or lack of action in dealing with particular problems. If you take away a person’s responsibility for their own actions what have you left them with?”

MacCarthy, despite his forthrightness and his willingness to take on authority even to his cost, doesn’t exactly come across as someone who has been hard done by. He agrees with this presumption. “Oh, no. I’ve been blessed and for two reasons. First, while a lot of people think I got lucky, I reckon I got sober. After that I found that people responded to me in a different way. I have a reputation for being a profoundly difficult individual, but it’s just not true and never was!’

As to how The Corrs came to record ‘No Frontiers’ on what was always destined to be a top selling album he has no major revelations.

“My own theory,” he says, “is that their Mam wasn’t well at the time and it might have had a relevance to them because of that. They recorded it shortly after she died, but when they were a pub band they used to cover it. Their version is a copy of Mary Black’s version and I think Mary’s version is still the definitive version since she put the last four lines back in. I believe that Universal signed me to the publishing deal because they knew there would be that income stream from that version on a huge-selling album. That justified them giving me a large advance, although there were a few other things in the pipeline as well.”

For MacCarthy, his current pipeline obviously includes a hefty promotional campaign to promote his album and his book, and a tour of the country is also planned with a band. As one of our most literate songwriters he still has a lot more to say.

OTHER IRISH SONGWRITERS IN THE GREAT COVER-UP… and one who should be!

PHIL COULTER
In the ’60s, the Derry man teamed up with Bill Martin and the pair scored numerous chart hits, including number ones for Cliff Richard (‘Congratulations’) and Sandie Shaw (Puppet On A String’). They wrote for the Bay City Rollers and also found time to pen hits for The Fureys and Davey Arthur and The Dubliners. Luke Kelly’s interpretation of his ‘The Town I Loved So Well’ is an extraordinarily emotional paen to Coulter’s home town, as is Kelly’s equally searing take on ‘Scorn Not His Simplicity’, inspired by Coulter’s son. Even Elvis couldn’t resist, recording a stirring version of ‘My Boy’.

PAUL BRADY
Apart from being praised by Bob Dylan, Paul Brady has racked up an impressive catalogue. Dave Edmunds and Roger Chapman applied themselves to ‘Crazy Dreams’ and Santana added a Latino touch to ‘Night Hunting Time’. Tina Turner cemented Brady’s status as a songwriter when she recorded ‘Steel Claw’ and ‘Paradise Is Here’. US blues-rocker Bonnie Raitt appointed Brady’s ‘Luck Of The Draw’ as title track on her album and ex-Byrd David Crosby and Ronan Keating are among the growing list of top acts to shop for songs in Brady’s store.

MICK HANLY
Moving Hearts’ Limerickman Mick Hanly discovered his true vocation as a songwriter, penning tracks recorded by Christy Moore, Regina McMullen and Mary Black among others. But it was the recording of his ‘Past the Point Of Rescue’ by American country artist Hal Ketchum that catapulted Hanly onto the world songwriter stage. Ketchum’s interpretation soared to the number two spot in the US country chart in 1993. Hanly later spent a while writing with Nashville-based composers but now prefers to write at home in Thomastown in County Kilkenny.

BONO/U2
A quick glance through the U2 songbook will quickly dismiss the notion that they keep all their best songs for themselves. Roy Orbison had one the biggest hits of the latter part of his career with their ‘Mystery Girl’, while Irish girl band Bellefire launched their career with ‘All I Want Is You’. Bono wrote ‘Wish You Were Her’ (sic) with and for T-Bone Burnett. ‘Angel Of Harlem’ has been garnered to the bosoms of numerous gospel aggregations, while Johnny Cash fashioned ‘The Wanderer’ into a convincing country gem. The Joshua Trio built an entire career trading in irreverently re-upholstered versions of U2 classics.

SINÉAD O'CONNOR
Despite a generous catalogue of potential hit material, Sinead has not, as yet, generated a parade of cover versions to match. Perhaps her impassioned performances of her own songs serve as barriers to would-be cover stylists, but with a little imagination it's easy to hear a song like 'Mandinka', with it's forceful punky chords, rejuvenated in the hands of Supergrass or maybe Garbage. 'Fire On Babylon', with it's lumbering percussive pulse, would make an intriguing challenge for the Afro-Celt Sound System, with Iarla O'Lionard's voice possibly taking the melody to new heights?