On American Thanksgiving Day (July 4th) 1993, the Cranberries played
Club Setanta in Salthill, a nightclub that I had named and co-set up in
1991.
The gig was part of a series of 'Indie Rock Nights' organised with my dearly departed and much loved friend Sean Puirséal (Purcell).
The band were starting to chart in Britain by this time but they were still relatively unknown and it was the following year that they achieved international success.
When the Cranberries came on stage, the venue was full of mainly young Irish-Americans and Irish that were merry, boisterous and loud.
The sounds of guitars and drums permeated the hall. Nothing out of the ordinary for a live music rock venue. The lead singer was a small very young looking female with short cropped hair who seemed somewhat out of place in the large, dark cavernous hall. Then Dolores started to sing. Her voice instantly captivated the audience. Melodic, raw, haunting, it delved deep into our Celtic souls. The banshee wail seemed to transport us back in time to the music, songs, bards and rituals of a dim and distant past whilst also giving us a taste of the sounds of the future.
We were spell bound.
Dolores had a powerful magnetic singular presence on stage that night. But afterwards as we sat down and chatted, I found her warm, shy but very friendly with an engaging smile.
Farewell Dolores, you are a legend that will not be forgotten.
The gig was part of a series of 'Indie Rock Nights' organised with my dearly departed and much loved friend Sean Puirséal (Purcell).
The band were starting to chart in Britain by this time but they were still relatively unknown and it was the following year that they achieved international success.
When the Cranberries came on stage, the venue was full of mainly young Irish-Americans and Irish that were merry, boisterous and loud.
The sounds of guitars and drums permeated the hall. Nothing out of the ordinary for a live music rock venue. The lead singer was a small very young looking female with short cropped hair who seemed somewhat out of place in the large, dark cavernous hall. Then Dolores started to sing. Her voice instantly captivated the audience. Melodic, raw, haunting, it delved deep into our Celtic souls. The banshee wail seemed to transport us back in time to the music, songs, bards and rituals of a dim and distant past whilst also giving us a taste of the sounds of the future.
We were spell bound.
Dolores had a powerful magnetic singular presence on stage that night. But afterwards as we sat down and chatted, I found her warm, shy but very friendly with an engaging smile.
Farewell Dolores, you are a legend that will not be forgotten.
