Poor Man's Moon

Where has he been all these years? You might well ask. Henry McCullough is one of the unsung heroes of Irish music. He came blasting through with The People, one of the great Irish blues-inspired bands of the ‘60s. Fronting Eire Apparent, and working with Jimi Hendrix as producer, he impressed the Seattle guitar wizard immensely with his own brand of six string magic. He joined Sweeney’s Men, the seminal Dublin-based group that many believe invented folk rock. He was at Woodstock with Joe Cocker. He enjoyed a brief fling with Janis Joplin. He was a member of Paul McCartney’s Wings. He appeared (In the most mercurial way!) on Pink Floyd’s Dark Side Of The Moon. In the mid-’70s he made a solo album on George Harrison’s Dark Horse label. Following which he returned to Ireland to...
Well, not quite nothing. Eamon McCann has raved in these pages about McCullough and in particular his wonderful song ‘Failed Christian’, written in the ‘90s – and more recently recorded by Nick Lowe. But for the best part of three decades, Henry has been one of rock music’s lost talents. Until now, that is.
It was ex-Horslip Eamon Carr who inspired the making of Poor Man’s Moon. He had a bunch of lyrics, sufficient to get the plane on the runway, dark and sombre songs for the most part – but it needed an infusion of genius to get it airborne. Crafting the melodies and adapting them to his world-weary persona, and throwing a few songs of his own into the mix, McCullough provided just that. Fly me to the Poor Man’s Moon...
There are moments when comparisons to J.J.Cale, Levon Helm and Willie Nelson all seem appropriate, but more to the point the effect of the record is reminiscent of what Rick Ruben did for Johnny Cash. From the bold, haunting, gothic-Irish opening statement of ‘Burial Ground’, with its musical nod to Astral Weeks in the superb bass part, you know that this is serious stuff. The album deals with life and death themes, with the ravages of the years, with disappointment, loneliness and failure. ‘Skin & Bone’, all beautifully inter-weaving guitar parts, is a highlight, a song about the human condition that somehow contrives to be warm despite its bleak subject matter; the ghost of Otis Redding hovers over the desolate ‘Fix Me Up Jesus’ – a plea that you simply know will never be answered; ‘Big Old River’ is a slice of melancholic blues that sees an upside to death in the opportunity to renew lost friendships; ‘Walk With Me’ reflects wistfully and well on what happens when “Colours fade and things get worn/Become more precious than they were before”; the title-track, written by Henry, is a funky, swampy guitar-fest; and ‘Too Late To Worry’ offers a wry slice of ironic respite...
Throughout, McCullough’s guitar playing is outstanding. His laconic singing style works brilliantly too. Mixing Irish influences with country, rock’n’roll, funk and the blues, he has fashioned a record of real depth, character and emotional weight. “I got a suitcase full of nothing/Except memories and regrets,” he complains in the opening lines of ‘Belfast Train’. But there’s nothing to regret here, my friend. Welcome back...
Key Track: ‘Skin & Bone’