Eoin Butler: writer, journalist and Mayoman of the Year

Tripping Along The Ledge


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GET WELL SOON, OLLIE!

Best wishes to singer-songwriter Ollie Higgins, who suffered a smashed pelvis and broken ribs in an accident earlier this week. Many of you will remember Ollie as drummer with the acclaimed Kill City Snowmen, who were big favourites at the Sound Cellar and Baggot Inn back in the day.

True legends of Irish rock, the Snowmen were tipped in Smiley Bolger’s annual ‘ones to to watch’ list a record-breaking five times (1987, ’88, ’90, ’91 and ’93!) One of the nicest guys in the business, Ollie apparently fell fifty feet onto concrete while attempting to rescue a kitten from a tree.

[P.S. In 2004, I was lucky enough to be granted an interview with Ollie, which you can read here.]

Read the rest of this entry »

EoinButler.com is live…

Eddie GogginsThis is me flying high on the soaraway success of EoinButler.com… Four hits so far, which is, coincidentally, the number of people in my immediate family – up, up and away!

As well as updating this blog, I’m going to be regularly updating the archive of older articles I’ve written, so make sure and check back from time to time. Also, if there’s any particular article anyone wants me to put up, email me, or text me, or or write me a letter, or whatever the hell you want to do, and I’ll see if I can dig it out.

MONDAY NIGHT PINT

grogansIt’s closing time on Monday night and Declan and I are sitting in front of at a pair of empty glasses. For the last five minutes, he has been engaged in a freewheeling mobile phone conversation.

“Ah, not a lot now” he’s saying. “Myself and Butler are finishin’ a pint in Grogans. Just scratching our balls to be honest. Probably head home after and see if herself is feeling frisky…”

Then person on the other end says something and Declan makes a face.

“Sorry, who am I speaking to?” he inquires. Read the rest of this entry »

The Song Who Can’t Be Moved

thescript_moved480I’ve got a very embarrassing problem and I don’t know where to turn.

For eleven consecutive days now, I’ve had the The Script’s cheesy smash hit The Man Who Can’t Be Moved playing in a constant loop in my head. If the situation continues, I may have to seek psychiatric assistance.

“The irony in all of this” I tell Declan and Tina, over a pint in the Flowing Tide. “Is that 95% of me despises the song. Hates it. Thinks it’s just the plot from some ludicrous chick flick set to music.” Read the rest of this entry »