1970s & 80s Ireland is the setting for my new memoir - This Boy's Voice - as I negotiate Boarding School, Boot Boys, Broadcasting, Babies, Relationships & Rathmines! A story of failure & frolics on the journey home to me. Now available to pre-order.
I hope you enjoy. Thank you.
U2 !
Ireland’s greatest band
Back in their old School, where it all started 💙🩵
Hon the Northside!
Enjoy 💚
(Went into town after & played for free on Grafton Street) - we are so lucky in Dublin 🎶☘️💚🇮🇪
Happy Birthday U2
Sep 25th 1976: Some teenagers from Mount Temple School, with some instruments, met up in Larry Mullen Jr's kitchen on Rosemount Avenue Dublin
1984: A teenager in Peterborough heard Pride In The Name of Love for the first time & has been a fan ever since
#U50
Seventy-seven years.
From a little boy growing up in Freehold, to a teenager who picked up a guitar, made it talk to all of us in such a profound way, and found the thing that would change his life, to a young man chasing an impossible dream up and down the Jersey Shore.
From tiny clubs to the world’s biggest stadiums.
From Growin’ Up to Born to Run. From The Promised Land to Glory Days. From Kingdom of Days to Last Man Standing and Letter to You.
The face has changed. The years have passed. Friends have been gained and some painfully lost. There have been triumphs, heartbreaks, beginnings, endings, reunions and goodbyes.
But through every era, one thing has remained.
The music.
And somehow, as #springsteen grew older, those songs grew older right alongside us.
Songs we first heard as kids suddenly meant something completely different when we became adults. Songs about parents became songs about our parents. Songs about children became songs about our children. Songs about friendship, love, loss, mortality and hope began hitting places in us we couldn’t possibly have understood when we first heard them.
Maybe that’s one of Bruce's greatest gifts.
He didn’t just provide the soundtrack to our youth.
He gave us a soundtrack for growing older, too.
And now, at 77, he’s still here. Still creating. Still performing. Still believing in the power of music to bring people together. And we’re still fortunate enough to be along for the ride.
For more than five decades, your songs have somehow found us exactly where we are.
They’ve been there for the first loves and the broken hearts. The weddings and the funerals. The celebrations and the struggles. The long drives with nowhere in particular to go and the nights when we needed the music turned up just a little louder.
You wrote about the people who work hard, dream big, fall down, get back up, lose faith and somehow find it again. You taught us about hope and redemption, friendship and loyalty, love and loss, second chances and the promise that somewhere down the road there just might be something better waiting for us.
But speaking for the Spring-Nuts community, what you help us create through your music, became about something even bigger than the songs.
It became about each other.
Eleven years ago, this community began because of a shared love for your music. What none of us could have imagined was where that music would eventually take us.
Strangers became friends.
Friends became family.
People traveled thousands of miles together.
We stood beside one another at shows, celebrated marriages and births, mourned losses, helped people through some incredibly difficult times, and tried our best to live by one of the simplest and most important lessons we found in your music:
To take care of our own.
And somehow, through all of it, your music was always there. That may ultimately be one of the greatest gifts an artist can give. Not simply songs that people listen to, but songs that connect people to one another.
There are people in this community who would never have met if you hadn't picked up a guitar and started telling stories all those years ago. Friendships, relationships, memories and experiences exist today because somewhere along the way, your music brought our paths together.
At 77, you continue to remind us that rock and roll isn't measured by a number on a birth certificate. It's measured by the passion you bring to the stage, the truth you put into a song, and the connection that happens when thousands of people become one for a few unforgettable hours.
So today, from this crazy family we call the Spring-Nuts, we simply say:
Thank you, @springsteen .
Thank you for the words.
Thank you for the music.
Thank you for the concerts, the memories, the friendships and the miles.
Thank you for reminding us that dreams will not be thwarted and faith will be rewarded.
And through your music, may we all continue to find some reason to believe.
“I’m not leaving New York. And neither is anyone else. We’re here. We are quintessential Americans – we’re not only American but New York-American.”
In the weeks after the attacks, artists like Mick Jagger, Yoko Ono, and Lou Reed reflected on how their lives had already changed.
Read: https://t.co/LgZpSgdU2f
@dmchammer1@jdoyle916 One third of the 2,977 that died that day identified as Irish-American - only agenda I support is the one that honours and remembers all the victims
The only flag, other than the U.S. flag, to fly at the Ground Zero site in lower Manhattan is the Irish tricolour, which is put in place by the Carpenters Union #608 and FDNY Command Post. #NeverForget
My thoughts and prayers are with the family & friends of this fisherman - it’s never lost on me, the challenges and risks faced by our fishing community every day. https://t.co/GCWQxNqgNk
A pure gent, I watched him grow from a polite and curious child popping into The Herald newsroom to being a man who made life better for so many. What a legacy of respect he leaves behind. My heart goes out to Jim, Claire, Jen and family.
Les Sealey wasn’t the greatest keeper to play for United — but that was part of his charm. Not polished, just mad bravery and pure heart. He fought his way into cult‑hero status at Old Trafford. For reds of a certain vintage he wasn’t perfect — he was unforgettable. RIP Les