Today, fans of legendary Irish rock band Mamas Boys will pause to reflect upon the 20th anniversary of Tommy McManus who left this world far too soon. To honour his beloved memory, for all that he gave to us and what Mamas Boys meant to me, here is my entire reflection and poem as taken from my book... The Pulse of Derrylin (from Through the Eyes of a Belfast Child). Music has always been a huge part of my life, from when my brother introduced me to “I love Rock ‘n’ Roll” by Joan Jett and the Blackhearts, to my first taste of AC/DC through a 45” single he had called “Let There Be Rock.” With that said, many of us have childhood idols that come in various forms: action figures, Hollywood heroes, famous writers, or musicians. Such musicians are the reason that this composition came together, and it is based on a trio of legendary brothers from Northern Ireland who rocked the world not only with their brilliant and influential music, but their tremendous interaction with and dedication to their fans. Pat “The Professor,” John, and Tommy McManus grew up near the small village of Derrylin, County Fermanagh, Northern Ireland. They started off their young musical careers playing traditional Irish music. Pat won several medals and awards for his brilliance on the fiddle and became the All Irish Champion at age fourteen. John was a champion tin whistle player and was extremely skilled on the Irish Uilleann bagpipe. Tommy kept a steady beat on the Irish drum: the Bodhrán. They formed a band called Pulse but before had put together a musical foursome with their sister on vocals. Molly, if you chance a read of this, I’m hoping you’ve kept some of the bootlegs from your early days, as I’d like a copy with an autograph. The boys took a great interest in rock ‘n’ roll, with bands such as Budgie, Rush, and Black Sabbath, but Thin Lizzy and Horslips were also among their favourites. Their love for rock music started to creep into their lives even more. From this, their dear father, John Sr., who was also a champion fiddle player, would ask Pat to slow down as he tore up the frets on the family’s guitar. One day though, he surprised the family when he brought a bass guitar home and eventually a drum kit. Shortly thereafter, the development of songwriting for Pulse began taking shape. The name of the band changed after a Radio Luxembourg DJ jokingly called them mama’s boys due to their young age. After all, Tommy was only thirteen-years-old in 1979 when they began touring with Irish rock legends - Horslips. The name stuck. My appreciation for the band began back in 1984. A friend from school who was a headbanger was crazy about the rock band KISS. He told me about Mama’s Boys and prompted me to pick up their music. With monies made from delivering the Belfast Telegraph, I would catch a bus down to the city centre and go into the local record shops to buy their albums. The first record I ever bought was their self-titled disk, which became an instant hit on my brother’s record player. I would take every opportunity when he was out to play this album, and while shamelessly headbanging to the beat, I’d sing along to whatever lyrics I could pull off and remember. I was definitely no match to John’s voice, but would do my best to impersonate his look and style, quite often with failure. One Saturday, I caught the bus into Belfast and made yet another purchase. Gleaming in my hand shortly thereafter was their latest release called Power and Passion, which also happened to come with a twelve-inch picture disc and featured the song “One Last Chance.” On the reserve side was an interview featuring Pat, John, and Tommy as recorded in Battery studios in London. A fellow I knew from school saw me walking along Royal Avenue and asked what I had bought. I proudly displayed my still newly wrapped purchase, much to his displeasure. He did not follow my interests in music, but I didn’t really care what he thought, as I was much more interested in getting back to my house to play this latest offering from my favourite band. I would constantly listen to the interview, laughing at their innocence and wanting to become a rock star just like them. Later, I’d learn that Mama’s Boys were going to be playing a show at the Ulster Hall. This was in April 1985, with F.M. opening as the supporting act. Denis and I bought tickets and could not contain our anticipation of going to what would be our first concert ever – The Power and Passion World Tour. The concert was brilliant, but we were terrified, as it was rumored that during the song “Freedom Fighters,” the divide we lived through was part of the show. We understood that Protestants in the audience would go to one side of the venue, Catholics to the other, and they would charge each other before meeting in the middle and getting into a full-blown war while the concert would play on. Although this may have been a myth, it put us off at the end of the night once the show had wrapped up. As Pat, John, and Tommy did at the end of every gig, they announced they would be coming out into the foyer to meet fans and sign autographs. Denis and I chose to get back to the safety of our homes and left right after the show ended, not taking any chances for those who might be waiting for us. It was a dodgy time, and we were not about to find out if the war that didn’t occur during the show would do so afterwards. Anyone who displayed their musical tastes on their denim and leather jackets, crombie coats, or blazers through metal buttons pinned or patched onto the fabric with needle and thread would often end up clashing on the bus. After our move to Canada, my cousin Patrick told me he’d heard on the radio that my favourite band would be playing Winnipeg in September. He knew my passion for this group, as I had given him a loan of their self-titled album so he could see what their music was about. The frigger never did return it, stating that he had “misplaced it.” Perhaps this was his way of payback for me using his parent’s phone without their prior knowledge. Upset by the fact that I never got my album back, I went ahead and bought a ticket for the show. I had no idea that this night would create a lifetime of memories and fond reflection, and would forever change my interaction with the music world. It was Sunday, September 22, 1985, and the venue was called Le Rendezvous. Mama’s Boys had a band in support called Labyrinth and another warm up act that I would only partly watch. I looked throughout the hall and noticed Tommy standing just outside the dressing room at the top of the stairs, watching the same act I was paying very little attention to. Since I had brought all my records to the show, I thought I would take a dander to the back of the hall and ask if Tommy would autograph them. When he came down, I explained that I had seen them play in Belfast just four months before and that I’d just moved to Canada. Tommy looked seemingly stunned to hear a wickedly thick Belfast brogue. He paused from autographing my albums, asked me to wait at the bottom of the stairs, ran up, and within moments he re-appeared and shouted, “C’mon up!” I excused myself to the security guard who was standing half-way up the stairs and said, “Tommy McManus has invited me backstage.” I am sure he had already realized that, but politeness sometimes goes a long way. This was an experience of a lifetime: meeting the musicians whose albums I constantly played on my brother’s record player and got enough hidings from him for doing so. When I first walked into the room I saw a white violin on a stand and recall saying, “My God, it’s the Professor’s fiddle.” Then I saw Pat himself, who was working away on his Flying V. This guitar became a signature of his during band photo shoots. Tommy went back out to see the warm-up band play, as it was a passion of his to watch other acts onstage. There were two fellows in the room whom I did not immediately recognize. Regardless, I took a seat and started to talk with Pat, but sometime during the conversation I asked where John was. He replied, “He’s sitting right next to you.” When I turned to look, the first words out of my mouth were, “Jesus Christ, John. What happened to you? You look so different!” He was not wearing his signature item: a pair of rimless sunglasses (or his “bin lids” as John prefers to call them). Phil Lynott of Thin Lizzy fame had told them one night after they finished a gig that as a band, they had to dress differently from the fans. A big grin shot across Pat’s face. From there on in the banter was brilliant. As I sat and chatted between them, John offered me a beer. I asked him about his family and their beloved sister Valerie, who was tragically taken from them. I wanted to know everything about them, perhaps in my hopes of joining the band and touring the world with them. I went on to ask about some of their songs, and during the conversation said, “Can you help me with the lyrics for the song ‘One Last Chance’?” and did my very best to recite what I thought was correct and to the best of my knowledge. John responded, “You know the words much better than I do,” and burst into a fit of laughter. He never did tell me what the lyrics were. We spoke for ages before the lads had to tell me that it was time for them to get ready for the show. I went back downstairs, adrenaline rushing through my veins while trying to tell the group of lads whom I had been sitting with prior about my experiences in meeting Mama’s Boys. They didn’t have a clue what I was saying, but decided to look over my freshly autographed albums. The fellows had writers’ cramp that night. Even before they did their scheduled meet-and-greet session, I had them sign everything. Items included the outer record sleeves as well as the inner sleeve and the albums. They signed the inside of my leather jacket, a five dollar bill, the T-shirt and postergram they gave me, the back of my white granda shirt, and other picture disks I have including the 7” version of Needle In The Groove shaped like a three-leaf clover. What was so incredible is that the lads fully obliged every signature. After this first time meeting a band, when I was a few years older I went on to interview other bands that came to town. Some of them found it to be a chore to sit down for a few minutes and give a few words or a photo. Many were fantastic and very approachable. U2, Cinderella, the Scorpions, Mötley Crüe, Slaughter, as well as individual artists from bands such as Anthrax, Queensrÿche, Metallica, AC/DC, Def Leppard, and Iron Maiden were great and down to earth. There were also those who were impossible to work with. And as much as I appreciate being in a band can be demanding, but, without a fan base and their support, many would not be able to maintain the status they have come to enjoy. With the various bands that I have met or have worked directly for and with over the years, I’ve only come across a few who come close to the personalities of Pat, John, and Tommy. It’s been twenty-eight years since I first met them, but it still sticks out in my mind as one of my greatest concerts and personal experiences. I was so hooked on their music and in wanting to be a part of the magic they created each and every night on stage. I wrote in the blurb beside my high school photo that I wanted to be a roadie for Mama’s Boys. Sadly, much of this happiness would change. Tommy, who had been diagnosed with leukemia at the delicate age of nine, came out of remission and had a relapse. Although he came back to finish off the tour, he was soon admitted to hospital due to further complications from the disease. He fought additional battles over the years but remained committed to the band, following his childhood dream while inspiring millions the world over. In 1987, I walked into a record shop in downtown Winnipeg and saw that they had released another album. The cover on both sides was shocking to say the least, as the record company had decided to mold the band to fit their defined image of what Mama’s Boys should be and had added a fourth member. It changed everything. Who they were, the music they stood for, and what their sound and image meant to their fans. The album was a complete departure from what they had developed over the years as a distinct sound. No matter how many times I played the album, I struggled to get into it. Unfortunately, the band lost a lot of impetus over the ensuing years, although I often longed for them to come back to Canada and would phone radio stations requesting their music be played without much success. I would still buy their earlier releases wherever I could find them, and I asked my mum to do the same for me when she took trips home. The band went through further line-up changes only to come full circle back to their roots, once again becoming the three-piece band they started out as and gained their greatest success with. I’ve often stated that those involved in the record company created much of the demise of Mama’s Boys and should have the left the band alone. The old adage “If it ain’t broke, don’t fix it” should have been fully applied in this instance. I’d later learn that the last show Mama’s Boys would ever play as the famous three brothers from Derrylin was on December 18, 1993, at the Fuchs Rain Hall in Mohlin, Switzerland. In 1995, I decided to track the “Boys” down and see where they were and what they were doing. Constant phone calls led me to a DJ in Dublin. He told me that something tragic had happened to one of them. Not wanting to believe him, I went on a massive power search to find the truth. I finally reached their mother, Mrs. McManus at their family home, who shared with me what had happened. ***** The Pulse of Derrylin I sit here ready to write about, Three young lads from Fermanagh I know. Music they created when called Pulse, Made many people’s hearts glow. These three lads that I speak about, Started their careers quite young. Playing the delicate music of Ireland, At Fleadh Cheoils just for fun. Suddenly all things in their careers would change, Upon witnessing their first Horslips show. The McManus brothers stood back in amazement, When O’Connor played fiddle and bow. The lads told their parents this show was so terrible, They couldn’t hear music, just noise. Who’d ever guess that bearing witness to this, Would form the Pulse of Mama’s Boys. Arriving home as they did at the end of each gig, Their parents would ask the same. If these shows are so terrible, so bad, and so boring, How come you go every night in the rain? Their names I can quote quite easily, Tommy, John, and Pat The Professor. Taking their lessons from the lads of Thin Lizzy, And Horslips, Irish rock music’s predecessor. For John, the voice, the Uilleann pipes would not do, Now he ran at a sprinter’s pace. His eyes locked upon his father so dear, When he arrived home with the family’s first bass. Tommy, the bodhrán player, ever steady with the beat, Was now also interested in new tunes. His father decided it was time for some drums, Instead of beating cushions with spoons. Pat the Professor not to be forgotten, Would prove he was a rising star. Although he’d nick Johnny Fean’s ideas, He chose to play bow on guitar. To the stage the brothers would take, Singing songs derived from rock ‘n’ roll. Adding Irish music to their newfound rhythms, All the while playing from heart and soul. Around the pubs in Ireland, They toured themselves quite well. Placing each fan in the crowd, Under a euphoric spell. To them it was never a problem, How many fans came to the show. As soon as the lights went down, Mama’s Boys were raring to go. As a matter of fact, It did not take long. For their following to grow, To hundreds and thousands strong. For these brothers were very different, In the way their music was played. Always smiling while up on the stage, Their faces never looking dismayed. Over the days and throughout the years, They sung out their songs with passion. John learned while touring with Thin Lizzy, That Phil Lynott’s legwarmers were in fashion. Sadly our happiness would suddenly change; Tommy was called with a whisper in the breeze. Fans found out that he was now drumming in heaven, In sorrow, friends fell to their knees. The rock world was stunned with this heartbreaking news, Now the future for us all was uncertain. Tommy made mention that if he were called to his maker, With Phil Lynott he would draw a new curtain. Looking down on us all, especially his family, Tommy would not let this legacy come to an end. His rhythm it beats within The Professor and John, Now with Celtus, our hearts will mend. ***** At the incredibly young age of twenty-eight, on November 16, 1994, at 11:35pm, Thomas Gabriel McManus, drummer, background vocalist, and the driving force behind the band, passed away from complications three weeks after undergoing a bone marrow transplant for leukemia. The news was devastating to the McManus family, and to friends, fans, and musicians around the world who knew and respected the work of these three brothers for their years of dedication to the music industry. The brilliance of musicianship as showcased by Mama’s Boys had sadly and unexpectedly come to an end. In 1995, I eventually caught up with John in a London studio and spoke to him for about forty-five minutes over the phone, recalling all of the events that had occurred. He mentioned that they were all still at a loss without Tommy, and that he and Pat did not know what the future held, as they could not look behind them knowing their beloved brother was not on the drums. His voice on the phone was understandably somber, although he took the time as they always did to answer my every question and was grateful for my phone call, no matter how painful it was. In 1997, Pat and John reunited into a Celtic rock-based band called Celtus and released their first album called Moonchild, which is a haunting but very beautiful album. Tommy appears on this album through one of two tracks he last worked on: “Love Turns to Dust.” It was because of this that I decided to compose a poem to the memory of Tommy, but also to thank the three of them for their brilliance in making one fan’s dream come true as they did during two shows in 1985 and throughout their recording years. For all the inspiration they gave me to realize my own dreams of perhaps becoming a musician one day, I felt it was the least I could do to capture their essence and preserve it forever in memory. Without question, they had already done this quite effortlessly through their music and dedication to their faithful followers. When I was visiting family in Belfast in 1998, Celtus was scheduled to play the Point Depot in Dublin. I was hoping to get there either by train, car, or any other means, as I wanted to have the chance to catch up with John and Pat and speak to them at length about their journey of healing over the years after Tommy’s untimely passing. At that time I was told, as someone who’d never been to Dublin before or was there as a tourist, that thugs roamed the city and held hypodermic needles to the necks of any individuals who happened to wander into the wrong areas. They would be informed that the needle was loaded with a virus, before being stripped clean of their belongings. I didn’t want to take any chances, and unfortunately never made it to the show. I was truly gutted by this. In 2003, while on a trip back home, my Aunt Josephine, Uncle Thomas, and cousin Karl drove me down to Fermanagh to pay my respects to Tommy’s grave. None of us knew where to find it, but as I had an address, we asked around. Eventually we ended up meeting with Mr. and Mrs. McManus, who were incredibly welcoming. I explained that I had written a composition about their famous sons and brought a copy with me to give to them. It was the first time I had shared this poem with anyone, but what an honour and privilege it was to stand in their cozy, welcoming home alongside Mr. McManus while listening to Mrs. McManus read aloud the piece I had written regarding their very talented and influential sons. They brought us over to the grave and allowed me to take whatever time I needed to pay my respects to Tommy and his sister Valerie. I spent a good thirty minutes alone with them lost in thought and sadness as the gentleman who brought me backstage eighteen years earlier to meet his brothers and inspired me to become a drummer rested in peace beneath me. I have since been home a number of times to catch Pat in concert, and have spent many hours sitting and recollecting with him and his lovely family, with his mum and dad and with Molly, who in 2009 brought me to my very first Horslips show. Pat has been as accommodating as always in signing my ever-expanding collection of Mama’s Boys records, taking the time to look over the covers and note some he had never seen before. Although in one instance in 2006, at a concert and after autographing everything else in my collection, he signed my Official Bootleg album with “The signature remains the same.” On one of my last trips home in March of 2011, I met up with Molly and John before they headed off to attend another Horslips concert. This was a phenomenal reunion, as I had not seen John since 1985. The banter exchanged was fantastic, but I was shocked to see that I was now slightly taller than my childhood hero. I can say that I am one amongst many who have truly been blessed with the friendships and welcoming hearts of the McManus family, as not only have they become wonderful friends over the years, but they have also become my family. Thank you all for the memories and for helping so many of us believe that we can pursue our dreams if we put our hearts and minds to it. Tommy, I’m sure the concerts in heaven every night are sellouts alongside Phil Lynott, Gary Moore, Rory Gallagher, and Kurt Cobain. Save us a seat in the front row. And as your dear sister Molly always tells me while pumping her fists in the air: keep rockin’! ***** Since writing this personal reflection and poem, a beautiful man who made me so incredibly welcome every time I went back to Ireland, a man who spoke so dearly about his sons that remain legendary musicians and inspirations to this day, peacefully passed away on my mum’s birthday of May 3, 2013. Although I could not make it home for the funeral service, I was with you all in spirit. Thus, I would like to dedicate this reflection and poem to the beloved memory of John McManus, Sr., and to his children Tommy and Valerie McManus. I’m sure you are enjoying spending quality time together again now that you have all been reunited, but are also remaining watchful over your loved ones left behind to cherish your wonderful memories and all you gave to this world. We have been enriched by your gifts of love, kindness, and friendship. My love to you all… ***** One final note, I would like to ask that you please visit the Tommys Team Facebook page to see how you can help in the fight against blood cancers. Every donation, no matter how small, will make a significant difference. Thank you for taking the time to help support this brilliant cause as championed by Danica Richardson Horner, a beautiful angel who has been an absolute inspiration in her dedication to raise funds. Forever in our hearts, lovingly remembered, and never forgotten, we all love and miss you Tommy...
Posted on: Sun, 16 Nov 2014 15:00:02 +0000
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