IF YOU could get hold of one now, they might just prove to be lost classics, deserving of the kind of cult acclaim that is regularly meted out to the likes of The Flaming Groovies and Big Star. But, somehow, I don't think so.

I remember the first Ceirníni Pop as dire and embarrassing artefacts which smacked more than somewhat of a trendy priest's desire to be 'with it'. They were, I fear, utterly abysmal and certainly had the opposite of the desired effect on this fledgling, teenage rock fan's perception of the Irish language and what it stood for - rendering what aspired to contemporary relevance merely risible.

It was only one in a long, long, long litany of catastrophic mistakes made in the cause of keeping the Irish language - and a version of Irish culture - alive.

It was made compulsory in schools - people hated it. You had to pass it to get your exams - they loathed it. And it was associated with all the straight and narrow baggage of Catholic nationalism - they wanted nothing to do with it. Thus did those who took upon themselves the mantle of saviours of the native language conspire almost to kill it.

It was the Bardic poets and their foul satire that kept a lifeline open for me. A language that was capable of expressing vitriol with such pungent power had something going for it. And 'Caoineadh Art Uí Laoghaire' - there was eloquence here too of a different more lyrical variety. And so, despite the efforts of the Christian Brothers and their obsession with An Tuiseal Ginideach, I came to love and to relish the sound of a language that seemed as if it was born of the rugged mountains, the craggy coastline, the bitter winds and the hard unforgiving soil itself of this small island country of ours.

CLERICAL DOMINATION

It was fortunate that the Irish cultural revival began to take on a life of its own during the '60s. In music Seán O'Riada, the Dubliners and Sweeney's Men, to take just three obvious examples, set out on a path that would ultimately lead Irish folk and traditional music into a place of unique strength and renown on the world stage. Planxty, The Bothy Band, Clannad and Moving Hearts - in three of which influential bands the inspirational figure of Donal Lunny was involved - all pushed the cause forward. So too did The Chieftains, who developed in a direct lineage from Seán O'Riada's Ceoltoirí Cualann, De Danann and a plethora of significant musicians from Seamus Ennis, Paul Brady and Paddy Keenan on to Arty McGlynn, Máirtín O'Connor and, of course, Christy Moore.

Along the way the cultural connotations of Irish music, and to an extent of the Irish language, shifted greatly. No longer was the association with a joyless atmosphere of sin and celibacy. Rather, to celebrate the music became an expression of identity, a statement of pride and of freedom.

Irish music, like the Irish language, is wild and passionate, celebratory and mournful - it is a distillation, as fine as the finest poitín, of the spirit of the people. And by that I mean the spirit of a people increasingly confident in themselves, unafraid of outside influences, and prepared to take their place in the world, and to do so with pride and with dignity.

This, then, is the essence of it. There is much in Irish society and in Irish culture which is unpleasant and open to criticism. But where is that not the case. Russia? China? Italy? The United States of America? North Korea? Albania? Things can change. Things can be improved. And the function of good criticism is to push us in that direction.

Despite everything that is wrong, however, Ireland remains a fine place to live. It is possible to run down a list of credits that would include the clean air, the wonderful landscape, the friendly people, the drink, the conversation, the music and the craic. Or to frame it differently, you could emphasise that bureaucracy hasn't taken over completely just yet, that we are slaves neither to the corporations nor to the State, and that there is a tremendous scope for freedom of expression despite the legacy of sixty-odd years of clerical domination, resulting in a wonderfully active arts scene encompassing music, theatre, film, literature and the visual arts.

To assert this is to indulge in neither chauvinism nor xenophobia. We happen to have got a few things right recently and there's a creative flowering to mark it. And where the modern, labour-intensive arts of film and music are concerned, not only do we have the artists - the directors, the actors, the song and screen-writers, and the musicians - but we also have the technicians to bring their visions to sympathetic fruition.

TERMINALLY HIP

It's against that backdrop that the Minister for Arts, Culture and the Gaeltacht, Michael D. Higgins has launched an intensive drive to establish the Arts as a real job-producing industry in this country. The possibilities he has been outlining in an expansive two-part interview in Hot Press (concluding this issue) are hugely exciting. And what's most encouraging for those who have laboured long and hard in the service of the Irish language is that the status of the native teanga will be more than adequately taken care of.

Michael D. has announced plans for Teilifís na Gaeilge, an Irish-language television channel which will involve native speakers in the tele-visual communicative order. It is an initiative which should open up interesting new avenues for independent producers who have a feel for the possibilities of the language in a strongly Irish context.

Thankfully, too, where music is concerned, we are no longer in the era of the Ceirníni Pop. Because over the past number of years, genuine Irish-speaking talents have emerged and made their mark on world music, entirely on their own terms. Clannad, Enya, Altan, the Hothouse Flowers - all use Irish naturally because it's an integral part of who they are and what they do. And, finally, to know and to love the language, the people and the place is in danger of becoming terminally hip.

So it should be. And if you don't agree, well, I think you'd be well advised to pog mo shón.

• Chris Donovan