Culture
Dropkick Murphys’ Tim Brennan talks bringing life to Woody Guthrie archives and social justice ahead of Louder Than Life
By: Ian Saint
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LOUISVILLE, Kentucky (WOUB) — Boston’s Dropkick Murphys might be the most prominent Irish-American rock band in the country, as evidenced by their double-Platinum 2005 single, I’m Shipping Up to Boston. The blistering anthem’s popularity even culminated in President Biden using the song to address Ireland last year.
When Dropkick Murphys play the Louder Than Life Festival later this month, they’ll be performing in a city with one of the largest concentrations of Irish-American ancestry in the country. It’s also the site of a dark day in Irish-American history: August 5, 1855, declared “Bloody Monday” after armed members of the Nativist Know-Nothing Party patrolled polls on election day, in acts of intimidation that resulted in skirmishes with Irish and German Catholics. The riots resulted in a reported 22 deaths, and zero convictions.
Dropkick Murphys’ last two albums, This Machine Still Kills Fascists and Okemah Rising, were recorded in 2022 at Leon Russell’s Church Studio in Tulsa, OK. They incorporated unused lyrics from Oklahoma’s belated, renowned social activist and singer-songwriter Woody Guthrie (known for This Land Is Your Land) that speak to the problems which fueled Louisville’s Bloody Monday and other societal conflicts, past and present.
WOUB’s Ian Saint spoke with Dropkick Murphys’ multi-instrumentalist, Tim Brennan, ahead of their Louder Than Life appearance. Find a transcript of their conversation below, edited for length and clarity.
Ian Saint: Dropkick Murphys played Louder Than Life in 2019. Does that festival stand out to you?
Tim Brennan: Yeah. After a while, all the festivals and shows become nebulous in your brain; but I do remember Louder Than Life in Louisville.
Louisville Irish and German Catholics endured Bloody Monday from nativist attackers in 1855. That reminds me of your recent single, Gotta Get to Peekskill, with Woody Guthrie’s lyrics about fighting KKK uprisers in 1949. Why did you choose it for a single at this moment in history?
Brennan: There’s been this weird empowering of groups (similar to) the likes of KKK in our country. We have recent instances of white supremacists getting together to march, and it’s not that dissimilar from what Woody wrote about him, Pete Seeger, and those guys going to clash with the Klan. It seems like such an antiquated thing, (but) the fact it’s kind of happening again today is crazy. Going through all these Woody Guthrie lyrics, one thing we were struck by — especially ones about fighting fascism — is how you can change a couple of words, and you could be talking about what’s happening today.
Woody’s daughter, Nora, gave you exclusive access to his unused lyrics. What was it like to bring musical life to his unused material, in partnership with his daughter?
Brennan: I mean, it was so amazing to get to do that. When Nora first contacted the band, it was before everything was digitized. (Dropkick bandmate) Ken (Casey) physically went to the Guthrie archives, put on layers of rubber gloves, and handled these pieces of paper that Woody wrote on. In lots of cases, Nora was going through the archives herself, and finding sets of lyrics that she thought would lend themselves well to Dropkick Murphys songs. It was extra cool that she was going through all his stuff with us in mind, emailing them over, and we’d start working with (writing music for) them.
(At first) I was like, “Oh, this will be easy. The words are already written. (Lyrics) take almost more time than anything to do.” But then you realize that you have to come up with music that does justice to the great lyrics we’re working with. We felt added pressure to make sure that everything sounded very good. But it was such an honor to be able to do that.
Your first co-headlining tour with Flogging Molly commenced in Cleveland. How was joining forces with them? Casual observers might speculate that you’re rival bands.
Brennan: It was great. We love those guys. Matt Hensley, their accordion player, is one of the nicest people I’ve ever met in my life. They’re all great people, and they’re a great band. We’re (both) in a fairly-specific niche; anybody who likes the sort of uptempo, raucous Irish rock that both bands do, had a hell of a night.
I can only imagine how fiery Cleveland was on opening night.
Brennan: Yeah, Cleveland is always great. A funny thing about the first summer I played with the band, on the (2003) Warped Tour. We went to Cleveland — we were in that wonderful spot (Jacobs Pavilion) along the (Cuyahoga) River — and I needed a new accordion. It just so happens that Cleveland is the home of more accordion museums than any other (area) in the United States.
Now, these accordion museums are guys’ basements, with a hundred different accordions displayed. I went to two separate places. I don’t remember the names; but we’d literally show up to somebody’s house, and go into their basement. (Editor’s note: they were possibly the Cleveland Accordion Museum in Rocky River and/or the National Cleveland-Style Polka Hall of Fame & Museum in Euclid.)
I bought two accordions, and that day was blisteringly hot and humid. So we’re on stage, and get to a song where the accordion starts the whole thing off. I go out there with my brand-new accordion I’ve just acquired from this museum in Cleveland, I pull open the bellows, and it sounded like I’d pushed down every single key at the same time. I run off stage, I open the front, and — because it was so hot and humid out — all the pads inside the accordion had melted and fallen off, so it was like a giant open harmonica. Luckily, he took the accordion back. I’ll never forget Cleveland for that.
President Biden did a four-day tour of Ireland last year, and he used Dropkick Murphys’ I’m Shipping Up to Boston for the entrance music of his closing speech outside St. Muredach’s Cathedral in his ancestral town of Ballina. What’s it like to witness the President incorporating your song to address Ireland?
Brennan: I mean, it’s still… (pause) every time I’m watching something, and that song pops up, I’m always amazed. I can’t believe it. The fact that it was used in that context is insane, obviously. It’s a nice feeling when I don’t even know what to say about it.
That song is two minutes, 34 seconds long. It’s track 11 on an album (2005’s The Warrior’s Code). Nobody batted an eyelash about it, until it was in [Martin Scorsese’s 2006 film] The Departed. Everything that song has become is thanks to it being in that movie… but to be associated with what we feel is the right side of history? That’s a good feeling.