Author: Pierce

Christmas parking

Friday, December 28thGreen Acres, Wexford
Sunday, March 10thThe Saint, Asbury Park, NJ
Sunday, March 17thJoe’s Pub, New York, NY

I’m going around here, where am I going? Nowhere! I’m just looking for a place to stop, a place to park. It’s Christmas time in Wexford and the town is swamped with cars and dogs and buskers and shoppers, and them Christmas songs pouring from little horns overhead. There is an ice skating rink on the Quay, and a children’s choo choo train on wheels, all lit up and sparkling, only the bored driver sits inside, but it goes around just like me. I dropped Clare off in the Bull Ring, the most central place, and went off looking for a parking place. I have a gig here in town at Green Acres, that’s on December 28th.

I drive up Cornmarket past Paddy Kelly’s furniture shop, it’s been there for decades, they used to sell clothes in there too. Manly stuff -wellingtons, corduroy trousers and sports jackets. Every summer my father would require a pair of summer trousers and a new sports coat, clothes suited to the hot weather (sic). However he was a bit shy about fitting things on, so my mother would go there and order an assortment to be sent down to the house. He would try them on in the kitchen and my mother and sister would pass comment, it was a common practice all over town.  Lovely people the Kellys, they seem to be surviving with the furniture thank God. 

I go back down Abbey Street past Whites Hotel, nice decorations in the bar, not that many in there though, down past Selskar Abbey from the 1100’s (no roof now, for tax purposes) and shit I’m off on the one way street roundabout again, back down past Dunne’s and on to the Quay again.

There’s a spot on the right-hand side going in the opposite direction, but I can’t swing over there because so much traffic is coming off the bridge. And on I go, shit I’m going up past the Bull Ring again – I am sweating now from a singular position.  God I have got to get rid of this car, I would do anything, and if someone said ‘you can park here but you can’t have the car back’ I would say ‘OK’ I swear. 

Up past Kelly’s again and and and…… what!!! There’s a spot, I pull in and put money in the meter, and think, ‘Now what’ll I do, what was I out here for?” 

Are you coming to Green Acres?  If you are home for Christmas and live within 40 miles, I expect to see you. We have a grand piano on stage and an upright out in the audience, Mick Egan will play guitar with me and we’ll sing together, and laugh and drink all kinds of fancy wine and beer, work off some of that dinner in the process.  Back to New York at the end of January with Joe’s Pub on March 17th.  That’s one of the top five venues in America, in spite of the humble name.

I love you more than Paddy Kelly’s.

Merry Christmas.

Time for love again

Look, after a year of hurting and sometimes blurting, I just want to say to all my friends, no matter which side you’re on, you’re my friend and I still love you, and no matter what, if you’re my friend you probably love music, so let music be our language in unison, eventually we will learn harmony again. Px
Don’t forget, Christmas at home at Green Acres Dec 28th-tkts at Green Acres
and a very special St Patricks Day at one 0f the top five venues in America Joe’s Pub.

The Wesht is Besht

I’m back from County Clare, it’s four and a quarter hours from there to here.  Bernard, who was hosting the gig in the old reformed school house in Maghera, warned me that there were several Maghera’s and that everyone gets lost looking for his place.  This information put me into a bit of a panic, because Mike and I are now known throughout the world as the team who always get lost.  I went straight to Clare (my wife, not the county) with this issue and pleaded for help, she is pretty good at this kinda thing.  A day later Clare handed me my phone and said that she had programmed Maghera into it.  And yes there was one in Northern Ireland, and not to worry, this was the right one.  She had tried putting in St Stephens Church, which was next to the Old School House, but Mrs Google said NO!  Happy with Clare’s assertion that we were covered, I left it at that.


First we had to get to Limerick, that was easy enough, and then we turned on Mrs Google.  She sounded confident and even though she speaks with an American accent, she seemed to know her way around County Clare well enough.  She told us we were an hour and ten minutes away from Maghera, great said I to Mike, we are going to be early! 


The road signs began to indicate names that Bernard had mentioned in his warning about the different Maghera’s, there’s one up on the mountain too, he said, “Where there is an R.T.E mast, but we’re nearer to Tulla”  Said he, and I was heartened to have seen a sign for Tulla.  Now the road was getting narrower, and the sun began to descend behind the silhouetted trees and muddy sky.  Tulla became nearer and nearer, and I cheered Mike on. “We are really close now” says I.  “Only five kilometers to Tulla”  “wee-haw” Cried he from behind the wheel. 


Several clicks later Mrs Google gave us a new command “Veer slightly to the right in two minutes” What happened to distances I thought to myself, shouldn’t it be a hundred yards or whatever?  Then there it was, a kind of slide to the right, we took it and descended down a small hill.  This was a very narrow road, only fit for one car really, an S.U.V came towards us with the attitude that we were invisible, we pulled into the ditch, my passenger side buried itself in the wild thorny bush, we heard an aggressive thump, the S.U.V hadn’t bothered to slow down as he banged our side mirror back and went upon his way.  We had been climbing hills for a while on our previous narrow road, now we were climbing again on an even narrower one.  Bernard did say that he was a good bit out.  On we went for about fifteen minutes, and then Mrs Google instructed us to take another right in a couple of minutes.  This was a different matter completely, as soon as we turned on to it, we could see that it was a whole other class of ruggedness, we expressed some consternation out loud to each other, but like the good lapsed Catholics that we are, went onward. 


It was a down road, pitch dark with pools of mucky water and undisturbed rocks, in fact the road appeared undisturbed, like maybe no one ever went near it.  We kept going, Bernard did say it was a good bit out.  We came to the bottom of a muck hill in a swamp, and were on our way out of it while praying, when Mrs Google said “You have arrived”  “What?? Are you fucking joking me!” There was nothing, more of nothing than I had ever seen.  Empty black fields behind stark briary bush, scarecrow trees, Mucky ground, mucky skies, and a lonely moon that badly needed charging.  We were alone in the middle of a black and brown nowhere, and suddenly it felt a bit frightening, could we get out of there? And if we could, where were we? Why was Google maps saying that this was it?  I got out just in case, to take a look across the fields, maybe this was it?  Bernard did say he was a good bit out, Nope, not a light or a lamp to be seen for miles.


We needed to turn around and get out of there, how? Mike remembered that there was an old gate back there where we could probably turn. We were backing up through the slippery mud and deep puddles, when Mike said he wasn’t sure if it was front wheel drive or rear, panic again.  I got out and directed him, slipping in the muck and covering myself in it.  We turned around and made it back to the road, where a man was building a new house in the dark with a floodlit digger.  “We were in the middle of nowhere” said I to him like a broken man.  “Well you’ll have to go back to the middle of nowhere agin”  Said he in a thick Clare accent, pronouncing Maghera “Mowra”  I put St Stephens Church into google, and this time she recognized it because we were so near.  We found it! and now I have to stop and rest. Phew!

There were French people there from Bordeaux someone from Germany, a woman from Wexford, solicitors, accountants, film makers and musicians, and Sally the cute little Jack Russel, and Martin Hayse’s cousin who told us that Martin lived right where we had landed by mistake, in the middle of nowhere. This is a photo of the gig.  They say the Wesht is Besht.

A Sock and A Shoe

I Have a friend who does a sock and a shoe, and a sock and a shoe. He was very annoyed when we all laughed at the idea, and I have to admit it’s a bit odd that we all thought it was so odd.  It’s such a minor thing, isnt it? Who cares how anybody puts on their shoes and socks, who ever said that there was a right and wrong way.  Non-one ever told me to put my socks on first and then the shoes, it’s not any quicker.  In fact if something were to go wrong, like the building catching fire, it might be better to have one shoe than none, of course you’d have to hop out of the building, but if the ground was hot, it would be helpful.


But what is so odd is our asuumptions that the way we are doing it, is the only way.  I remember being equally shocked when a friend of my Brothers said that in his family they did not put butter on the bread before the Jam.  He didn’t see why it was necessary, what had butter got to do with jam he asked.  I once told my Brother (the same one) that I hated if bread was soggy, never would put tomato’s in a sandwich, because it would get wet.  Then I explained that I never have food in my mouth, especially bread, when I drink tea or any liquid, he just didn’t believe me, after I insisted, he thought it was really odd.   


Of course, since then, I have found that there are many odd enough things about me, one of them is that I like to play in Parlours-not exactly the road to world domination.  Furthermore, I have no desire to dominate the world. I have had letters of disapointment from people who are great supporters, regarding this. “Just give it one more major push Pierce, please”  It’s hard to be a fan of someones music, if they are in a vaccum, it takes a bit of courage to say I like this guy that no-one ever heard of.  After my recent London gig (thanks to those who were there, great gig)  a woman with a London accent came up to me and said she had really enjoyed the show but. “When I called my Irish friend and told her excitedly that I had tickets for you, she said that she had never heard of you, I was gutted”  she then made an expression that seem to suggest she had been cheated by the (real) quotes and the blurb in the fancy brochure for Crazy Coqs-even though she loved the show, she felt unfullfilled because her excitement wouldn’t  hold water when it came to delighting about her experience, because I wasn’t well known. I gave her the answer that I always give about her friend “well she’s heard of me now!”


Bernard Dowd, who is hosting a Parlour show in his wonderful converted School House in Ennis Co Clare, has asked me to give his number out for anyone who might want to attend, knowing that I seldom play in that area he is saving 10 spaces, so here it is-Bernard Dowd in Ennis, Co Clare.  0874686578-I am playing there on Saturday November 24th.


I love you more than my upright piano.  Pierce xxx


Tickets are on sale for The Hot Spot Greytones Dec 7th

And Greenacres Wexford on Dec 28th……Christmas.

Brighton the sea gull city

Blown away in Brighton.

I grew up by the sea, it lived across the road from us on the quay, upstairs in the sitting room with that blazing fire at my back, I often peeked past the curtains at its commotion.  From my bedroom on the third floor the seagulls announced the dawn with their yelps as they circled the Dutch coal boats in pursuit of their morning slop.


Now I am in Brighton U.K. where the seagulls play a much bigger part than they did in Wexford.  Their announcement of the dawn is like the sound of an advancing army, thousands of yelps, squawks and baby squeaks of laughter, many Brightonians would like to mow them down, or make them wear diapers at least. Sometimes you can hear the blood- curdling Banshee-like wail of a Fox as she fights with a Mammy Gull, I am told the Foxes go after their babies, and that sometimes the Gulls go after the Fox cubs. I go out and there is a baby Gull standing on the roof of the car, right in the middle, like an ornament.  I know it’s a baby because it is not white yet. They are beautiful animals, but they leave their mark everywhere, long brown splatters mixed with subtle feather clings to almost every available glass surface.  Shit- upon windows are more common than untarnished ones. 


Down by the beach (if you don’t presume a beach to mean sand) they stand still in the wind, like a suspended sculpture, it feels like you can reach out and touch them, and they seem unperturbed by that possibility, a live animal meditates within arms length, floating into the weather.  I retreat to the café (pronounced Caff here) on the waterfront, there guarded by canvas windbreakers I consume a sausage sandwich and a cup of tea and think of what I should write to you.


I miss my American friends, how are you?  I will be back in January; I look forward to seeing you.

If you are in England, I have a great gig coming up between here and France. November 2ndat Crazy Coqs in Picadilly Circus, the very heart of London-this is one of England’s great venues with a Grand Piano on the stage, it is the English version of Manhattan’s Joe’s Pub.


In the meantime I am writing and sleeping and looking and listening.

And I still love you more than fish……. and chips.  Pierce  xxxxx




To book tickets go here

Also I am heading back to The Hot Spot for a follow up to the last great gig there, tickets at the Hotspot- On Dec 7th.  And Greenacres for a home town Christmas gig on Dec 28th tickets at Greenacres.

Astonished by the sun

Just got back from a couple of gigs in the West of Ireland. 

Hit Cork City, then drove south west to Ballydehob, or as I call it, Ballydequityourjob!  ‘cos it seems like most people who live in this idyllic little haven have moved there with the wisdom of a Buddhist Monk. 

I am sure that the waiters in the little café across the Street from Levis Corner Shop, were hording PHD’s in their biscuit tins above in the attic. 

Joe from Levi’s found time to run this great spot, share the minding of his beautiful daughter Johanna, one year and three months old, going on PHD.  His wife Caroline had a lap top attached to her as she levitated around with the calmness of a Ballydehobian, doing some kind of computer work and minding Johanna, as well as helping with shop. Joe’s Mother Joanne, always seem to be leaving as she was staying, and you’d be mistaken to think she didn’t have the run of the place.  I asked Joanne could we put the TV on to watch England playing Sweden.  Caroline, Joe and little Johanna were at the Farmers Market in Skib (Skibereen) and like all TV’s, their TV didn’t like strangers trying to turn it on.  It didn’t even recognise Joanne. 

(Astonished by the sun)


“Ara don’t worry about it Joanne” said I, picking up the Cork accent.


“Ara no, I’ll give Joe a call”


I really didn’t want her to go through all this trouble for me, and didn’t want to interfere with Caroline and Joe’s fun at the market.  Mike and I went in to set up the gear for the gig, Joanne kept fiddling away, she was intent on sorting this out.  We were hammering out my loudest song “The Sky and The Ground” with the drum machine at full wallop, when Joanne came in a said how wonderful it sounded, because she is a Mammy, I half expected her to recoil from the volume, but no! she loved it, and said I should stop while I was ahead.


“You’ll be worn out”


Off she went inside to have another go at the Tellee.


“I figured it out”  says she, “It wasn’t plugged in! How the hell could it work if wasn’t plugged in”


It was 3pm and they were singing God Save The Queen.  I made up a salad and sat down to watch, thinking how great Joanne was for going through this much trouble for Mike and myself.  To my surprise Joe’s Mother sat down too, folding her arms she became engrossed with the proceeding, she meant business.  I wondered how long she would last, she lasted!


“Ara how could he miss that?  He shoulda just kicked the bloody thing.  Ah shur he’s way off side for God sake”


He was! And the bloody Ref didn’t even see it.


The Sun continues to be lost, it must’ve confused Ireland with Spain, dementia I believe.  Long may its little happy head be muddled, for we are a gladder people, if this goes on we might even play like the Spaniards and win the World cup.


Next week…Wexford, the centre of the universe.  The beautiful Green Acres even has Air Conditioning, not put in there for us mind you, it’s for the Art, but we get to use it anyway, so cool beer and wine with cool air.  I’ll have something new for you, and we will sing Orange Coloured Sun in the summer of our lives. 

Two more gigs added just added, The AKA Kilkenny Arts Festival in an Elizabethan Pub called The Hole In The Wall, only holds 50.  And an ancient Church in Cellbridge Co Kildare – where they serve free wine on a grass covered mound mingled with ancient gravestones, as only the Protestants could.

I love you more than I can remember.

Pierce xxxx

The Green Acres show will be dedicated to my dear friend Michael Carroll who sadly died last month, still a young man-Michael helped me hugely through I.T. snaggery he was such a special person.  And to his beautiful young family who must be so heartbroken.

We love you Michael-hope you are getting to the bottom of one of your great passions; the paranormal.


Wexford Town-Greenacres Selskar July 20th-9pm tix at Greenacres

The Hole In The Wall -The AKA Kilkenny Arts Festival Aug 9th-9pm Tix at

The Tay Lane Church Celbridge Kildare-Aug 24th– 9pm

Rather be a tree


Yick, yick, yick, goes the Blackbird at the top of leafless Tree.  I wonder why it is leafless?  Clare say’s it’s dead. “Hmm, and yet it stands, way up high above all the living leaves, wonder why we don’t’ stand when we die?”


I start to imagine the possibility.  Where would we put us, would we still have graveyards?  If so, Undertakers would have to use different vehicles-stand up jobs-maybe like a Chariot, and of course there would be no reason to change the dress code that we now employ for our wakes.  A nice suit, shirt and tie, or her favourite dress , with full make-up of course, in both cases, as it is now.  Or we could return to the original shrouds, when death was gender equal.  Even big sturdy macho men adorned a gown for their trip to heaven, with nothing underneath of course, clothes wouldn’t be necessary in either of the supposed destinations.  The chariot would drive through the Town with him/me standing there in a black or purple smock (ecclesiastical colours) in full make –up, with the hair groomed back like Ronald Regan or Teresa may, and nothing but the wind underneath.  What if, like the Tree, we didn’t pong? Graveyards might not be necessary at all. We could be just stood in the corner, or sat in our favourite chair, to wilt away until we fall apart.  Sitting here at the Kitchen table with my morning cup of tea, as you can see, I have travelled to all kinds of crazy thoughts with my imagining dream-state.  The Blackbird continues to yick,yick. She sees Albert the Cat languishing in the hot sunny grass, but Albert has no intention of pursuing her Babies, he is a big softie.  Still the old Tree holds sturdy, would I rather be a Tree?


I have more than tree gigs coming up.  And if I don’t see you there, I won’t see you at all.  I have got my songs and my stories, and my love for all of you, only you and I can share what this is.  And no matter what happens, the memory will stand for a long time, just like the Tree.  Build your memories, they are our foundation for the present.  I am coming with fire in my belly, like a jumping jack flash!

And I love you as much as I love the Stones.  Dublin next week! Weeha.


Dublin-The Grand Social June 22 – 8pm 25  euro tix at Ticketweb

Cork City-Coughlans July 5th-9pm tix at Coughlans

West Cork Levis Ballydehob July 7th-8pm

Wexford Town-Greenacres Selskar July 20th-9pm tix at Greenacres

More dates to come.




We caught one! Joe’s Pub NYC Saturday April 28th-9pm

I was lying on the floor at the Gym, the Asser Levy, a public Gym, I like it because it’s cheap, and because normal people go there. No annoying music, and no perfect bodies preening themselves in the mirror. Was stretching away on the ground there, when a pair of huge flat feet went by in gum shoes. Atop those feet, a very big man was stuffed inside dark blue overalls with “Staff” written on the back. He walked with the ponderous gait of someone who was jaded with their job. He was trying to shake off a piece of white cardboard stuck to his foot, turned out to be a glue trap, a cruel invention covered in very strong adhesive. He shook his foot, no go, he tried to pull it off, his beer belly got in the way of his stoop, no go, he leaned against a machine and tried to rip it off, no go. He tried walking again, it was really getting on his nerves, he was stuck to it! A fellow staff member howled with laughter and shouted “Look everybody, we caught one!”
Pierce Turner Ensemble at Joe’s Pub Saturday April 28th 2018 at 9pm – box office 212-967-7555

I haven’t the time to write this

Photo taken at The Saint Asbury Park on Sunday March 11th 2018 (c) Kathleen Connally

I haven’t got the time to write this really. I’m rushing out to have breakfast with my friend Una Johnson, who is dropping off in New York for a few days on her way back to Ireland. It’s snowing like a whore outside. The weather-persons usually make such a big deal out of something small, but they did the opposite with this. The dog wouldn’t even walk in it, she kept trying to brush it off her face with a paw. I made sure she stayed out long enough to have a poo anyhow, God knows when we’ll be out there again today.


Una is coming from the South by South West Festival in Austin, she is one of its Euro rep’s for music. She used to live right next door to me here on First Avenue, literally my next- door neighbor. She was with Phelim O’Lunney then, he mixed the sound for The Major Thinkers (our Punk/new wave band) Una was a great help to me when I was organizing the Tour of Manhattan to go with my first solo album, sixteen dates in Manhattan within a month. This was 1986. Una and myself went all over Manhattan, up to its very tip and down below Houston, canvassing places that we liked the look of, almost never conventional venues. We even booked the New Amsterdam Brewery over on the West River. Philp Glass was there and that great filmmaker that he made the trilogy with, Godfrey Reggio. Standing up on that huge, tall counter with the massive beer vats at my back singing “How It Shone” was a great moment, thanks Una.


After that I toured America with the Smithereens one time, and Graham Parker on another-we had great shows at Toads Place in New Haven, and on April 8th I will play at Café Nine in New Haven, for the first time since then. Fred Parcells will be with me, as he was then. We’re getting in a car and driving all the way there, you better get in yours in you live nearby, twill be great. I am attaching a powerful photo by Kathleen Connally from our gig at The Saint in Asbury Park, trying to leave Manhattan!


And Next Wednesday March 28th we’ll be at the 11th Street Bar around the corner, that magnificent speakeasy back room with the piano. The last one was magic, they have been trying to get us back there since, this was the first and only chance. Twud be wise to book it now, we are keeping it down to 50 people. I love you more than my Dog hates the snow, and that’s a lot!

Pierce xxxx

11th Street Bar between A and B Wed March 28th – 8pm tix at

Café Nine, New Haven Sun April 8th Matinee, doors 3 pm. Tix at Café Nine

Joe’s Pub on April 28th!

Ireland in the summer.




Manhattan in the 80’s. Pierce Turner blog

The front of my building.

Manhattan in the 80’s                                               Pierce Turner © 2018  


Philip buzzed me in. Buzzers were a luxury then. Some of us had them, but they seldom worked. Most of us kept our keys in a thick, knotted sock. Outsiders would shout up at the window, and we would pitch the sock down to them. Every day without fail, I heard the same voice shouting up “Yo Howie” outside the building next to me, he would shout it repeatedly in a thick booming New York accent. Eventually Howie would throw down the knotted sock. I didn’t know anyone in that building to speak to, but I knew some faces, and had supposed some of their stories. Twice, the building caught on fire and they had to call the fire brigade. On both occasions Howie had fallen asleep with a cigarette on the go. The second time the building had to be evacuated at two in the morning. I looked out my front window to see a woman being carried down the Fire Escape in her nightie. Down below on the street, the entire occupants of the building were looking up in anguish. I knew most of their faces, and took a guess at which one was Howie. The one with the frail skinny body that I had decided was an alcoholic, struggled on his gout ridden feet to angrily accost Howie, he swung a wild punch at his clueless nuisance of a neighbor. Someone held him back while he shouted angrily at the bed smoker in Italian. Eventually the fire was quelled, the army of fire engines went home, and we all went back to bed. The next day I heard it again “Yo Howie” And the knotted sock hit the ground.


Pierce Turner Parlour Performances in 2018


Greystones, The Hot Spot -Friday Feb 23rd at 8pm (last Irish date before returning to the States) This is a beautiful venue. Book here.



Asbury Park N.J. The Saint (the legendary) Sun, March 11th- Afternoon session 4.30 start. (with Fred Parcells) And Avon Faire


Manhattan-Paul Muldoon’s Picnic-@ The Irish Arts Centre-Mon March 12th – 8pm

Manhattan The beautiful A.I.H.S Building – March 15th at 7pm (3D tour at thins link)

For tickets visit the website here


Manhattan –(the luxurious) Joe’s Pub, one of America’s top 5 venues-Sat April 28th-9.30 Show.