| www.garsong.com |
| A Page for the Pecker |
| I first saw Pecker Dunne when he played a gig in the Glasslyn Inn, in Bandon, Co. Cork. Apparently he'd recently gone on the wagon and thus spent half of the night making fun of a few young drunks who were about place. It was a pub after all. He played a few songs and told lots of stories and jokes, it was a busy enough night alright. The following day I was back busking, forsaking my usual spot by the AIB, as the bank was closed on Saturday. I wasn't all that healthy, having had more than a few the previous night, so I opted to busk right outside the Glasslyn. Seamus would probably feed me a few of his great sandwiches, when I took a break for a cup of tea. A bit later, as I was singing away, the Pecker came out of the pub and stood watching me. I finished the song and he just continued watching, so I sang another one, one of my own. He nodded as I finished and without a word dropped a couple of pound notes into the case. Won't sound like much at all now, but for the Bandon streets it was a veritable fortune. He'd certainly made me earn it but had paid up too. Six years later, I was living in Clonakilty, fourteen miles west along, and spending nearly every night doing sound in a well known music venue named DeBarras. I'd met Pecker the previous time he'd gigged in DeBarras, the previous year and had been amazed at the tone and timbre of his strong voice. I'd almost had to turn his mic. volume off, so powerful and resonant was his singing. As I was sound checking, he asked me to tune his guitar, so I did and then played a few bits and pieces to confirm the tuning. The guitar played easily, and he said exactly the same thing he had on the previous occaision I'd done sound for him. "You play it better than me," he joked. "Wouldn't be hard," I retorted. "You never play it anyway." What I'd said was true, for during most gigs he didn't play the guitar at all but stuck to the banjo and occasionally the fiddle. "You can have it for three hundred pounds," he said, also exactly what he'd said on that previous occasion. "Hang on a minute pecker," I said as he took the guitar and placed it on it's stand. I walked out to the front bar where Bobby was resting momentarily between pulling pints. "Sound check alright?" He asked. "Yeh fine," I replied. "Almost finished." "Bob," I continued after a few seconds. "Can I borrow two hundred quid off you to buy Pecker's guitar." Fair play to Bobby, he didn't have to think about it at all, just agreed and went to the cash register and got it. Taking the cash I went back to the back bar, where the live music was played and handed Pecker three hundred pounds. He took it and nodded, handing me the guitar, but then stating that I couldn't have the battery. He wasn't joking, cause after the gig he took the battery out before giving me the guitar, which meant loosening all the strings in that model. We used it for years. I played it for about five and then after I bought a new Yamaha acoustic when we were touring in China, Geertien used it. I took it back later, when Geertien began playing more and more fiddle and continued on until I purchased a new Takamine in Cork. Still have that one, thanks Sibylle. I met the Pecker a few times after that, he's a lovely guy. A man who had time for everyone, sure he'd listen to anyone. Last news I heard of him was that he was back in Waterford, think he was from that part of the country originally. By now he's probably in Kilarney, buskin' with his kids. When I left Ireland, I decided that the guitar should stay in Clonakilty and it's now hanging on the wall at DeBarras, along with all that Noel Redding/Jimi Hendrix stuff. More will appear on this page soon, including a link to one of the Pecker's songs that I'll cover. Thanks Bob and thanks Pecker, good luck to ye both. |
| Pecker way back in 1967 |