Murphys deliver roaring good time
As the Dropkick Murphys kicked off their eighth annual St. Patrick's Day concert/victory parade at Avalon on Friday, it started to become clear just how far the band has expanded beyond what it probably must have initially dreamed. The event sprawled across the entire weekend, with five shows in three days (including Saturday's arena gig at Agganis) that have been sold out since approximately last St. Patrick's Day. The guest lists were reportedly over capacity by a triple-digit margin.
Undoubtedly, the success of the annual residency owes no small debt to the Murphys being a Celtic-themed band in Boston. But the Avalon show was a reminder that they earned their must-see status by figuring out what they do well and working hard to do it better than anybody else. With each passing year, they become more clearly the bearers of the torch lit by the Pogues.
But where the Pogues loved traditional Irish music for its lyricism, the Murphys are drawn to its pugnacity, and at their best, they spat out a single, unified roar. Bassist Ken Casey's voice provided a sweeter counterpoint to the rough bark of singer Al Barr , but there was a fierceness to the songs either way.
"I'm Shipping Up to Boston" sounded genuinely malicious, with Marc Orell's banjo and Tim Brennan's tin whistle not remotely tempering the two violent stabs that served as the song's hook. Even the midtempo "Bastards on Parade" transformed into a mighty thump as Orell traded his bouzouki for a guitar mid-song and started a simple, searing electric lead.
There were a few indications that the Murphys are repeating themselves from year to year, from the little girls frantically step dancing during "Captain Kelly's Kitchen" and the bagpipe-and-drum corps all the way down to the inclusion of "Alternative Ulster" and "There is Power in a Union" in the pre-show music. But nobody goes to a parade expecting major changes. It's about tradition, and the Murphys delivered in spades.
The opening set by Brooklyn's Joe Coffee had volume but no drive, earning only polite applause and prompting one audience member to shout "So what?" in the interminable breaks between songs. Big Bad Bollocks fared infinitely better, manic but focused on a sweat-soaked set of Irish-influenced songs about drinking, shagging, and football.
