Omagh musician Eamon McElholm recalls a life in music

As Eamon McElholm explained how travelling fiddlers of old would refuse to play the second half of a tune until their audience furnished them with a few bob, I started to worry that halfway through our interview he might threaten to walk unless I produced the wallet and slipped a couple of notes into his pocket.

Thankfully, while the Omagh multi-instrumentalist is very serious about keeping some aspects of Irish culture alive, he is indifferent when it comes to the perpetuation of the extortionate practices of our musical forefathers.

Phew, says the TyroneHerald’s accounts team.

When I met Eamon, he was mixing a new album in his home studio.

Sensing the door creak open, Eamon, surrounded by guitars, keyboard, tambourine, tin whistles, cello, and other assorted instruments, swung around in his swivel chair, swept his headphones off his curls, and immediately started showing me what he was working on.

“It’s an album I’m producing for a flute player from Glasgow, Francis Morton. She’s brilliant. Here, have a listen,” he said, handing me a set of headphones.

“I’ve been trying to get the bodhran right all morning,” he seemed to enunciate, as the relaxed, mid-tempo reel filled my head.

For those who don’t know, Eamon is probably one of the best musicians to come out of Omagh, ever.

And that’s not coming from me, it’s on the authority of people who know far more about music than me, some of whom have had the pleasure of playing with Eamon. His list of credentials is scroll-like; too long to try to document even close to comprehensively in this story.

So, instead of trying to do the undoable, suffice to say that, in traditional music circles, there aren’t too many who don’t feel privileged to sit in a session – be it pub or studio – with Eamon McElholm.

“I got my first guitar lesson from Arty McGlynn (Omagh guitarist who played with the likes of Paul Brady, Van Morrison and Christy Moore) when I was about ten. Talk about a good start. Being so young, I didn’t realise that I was in the presence of greatness; but I came to know that later. He was a master. Arty lay down grooves that other players didn’t even know existed. He was that good,” said Eamon with the studious restraint of somebody who knows they’ve landed on a subject that could, if they aren’t careful, consume the entire interview.

Influences

After learning his first four chords from Arty, Eamon’s next big influences were Seamus Falconer and Larry Lowe (Omagh guitarist who went onto become Associate of the London College of Music).

“Meeting those two, especially Larry, really accelerated my playing. It showed me what other fellas were doing and where I needed to aim. It inspired me to be better,” reflected Eamon.

Around this time, Eamon started listening to a lot of Irish music, both traditional and, well, whatever kind of soul, rock, blues brilliance that Van Morrison specialises in.

“I loved traditional music and popular music, be it rock, blues, all that stuff. But a big moment was seeing Moving Hearts out in Knocknamoe. That blew me away. I had never heard anything like that, in terms of volume and the kind of stuff they were doing. They were an eight-piece band that had managed to mix traditional, folk and rock music. I was sold on that.”

The first band Eamon played in was called Amám (I think), which translates in Irish to spirit (I think).

“I was actually the drummer in that band and Shane McAleer (former member of Dervish) was the fiddle player. That was the beginning of a musical relationship that has lasted a lifetime,” said Eamon, who, every Wednesday night, joins the man he mentioned for a fantastic session in McCann’s pub in Omagh.

It was around this point in the conversation that chronology began to collapse as the supporting structure of our chat. We had successful travelled from A to B to C, now we were jumping all around the alphabet.

“I won a John Lennon songwriting award in school, which started with me sending away a tape recorded by a friend of mine called Eugene McCystal. After that, doors started opening. Some of my songs started getting a bit of radio play, I got a few TV appearances, I was touring the folks scene with a band, and things were going well. The next big moment was joining Stockton’s Wing.”

Stockton’s Wing

For the initiated, Stockton’s Wing were a band who performed and recorded in a Moving Hearts sort of spirit.

They were traditional music with a contemporary twist.

The kind of thing that would have made old fusty purists drop their pipe and throw up in their Smithwicks.

“That went on for years and I really loved it. We got to record an album in Windmill Lane in Dublin, which was incredible. For me, to spend a month recording in the same studio that was used by The Rolling Stones and David Bowie was like a dream. I had a great time with Stockton’s Wing.”

And the story goes on and on, with too many detours, misadventures, and standout moment to try to cover.

“My most recent big musical era, you might say, was the 16 years I done with Solas, travelling back and forward to America. Again, being part of that band was such a gift.

“As well as the buzz of writing and performing the music, I got to see so much of the world; Europe, Japan, Canada, Australia.

“I used to meet people and they’d ask when I had moved back from America. I was back and forth all the time!”

Through his life in music, Eamon has met and played with many of his heroes, made friends he would never have otherwise found, and made a living doing the only that he would probably be happy to spend his time doing for free: Playing music.

Before I left, Eamon handed me a CD and told me to give it a listen: A full album he made with the help of people like Cathal Hayden and Arty McGlynn, but one he never released.

I skipped out the door, up the drive, into the van, and stuck her on. Why it was never released, I don’t know.