Phillyist Interviews... Patrick Halloran of Ceann

Since our columnist Katie Kuhl already referred to the members of Ceann as “particularly attractive,” let’s get the Tiger Beat question out of the way first: who’s in the band, how old are they, and what’s their “status?”
Patrick Halloran – 31, single; Jeff Hoag – 27, single; James Telfer – 28, involved; Marc Wisnosky – 30, single; Scott Taylor – 29, engaged.

How did you start the band? Were you all in it from the beginning?
Marc and I started the band in college. It was just a goof. We wanted to play some Irish songs at a party on St. Patrick’s Day, so we learned a few of the classic Irish pub tunes and wrote a couple of original Pittsburgh-themed Irish songs. We went and played at an open mic and fifty of our friends came out to see us play. The bar was very impressed—with the crowd, certainly not with our playing—and they invited us back for a show. We were especially bad when we started, but we were definitely fun. We were playing fifteen to twenty Irish songs and then we would play songs by N’Sync, Hanson, Snoop Dog, NWA. The shows were really ridiculous and we could always pack the shows with our friends. I remember we were amazed when we finally got our first fan that wasn’t already a friend. His name is Ron and he moved to Atlanta. We still keep in touch with him.

What does “Ceann” mean, and how do you pronounce it properly?
Key-Anne is the pronunciation. It means head. Our original name was Ceann na Caca, which is Gaelic for “Head of Poop.” It wasn’t supposed to be funny or clever. We were only going to play one show and it was a parody of the Pogues’ original name, Pogue Mahone, which means kiss my ass. We started to realize that some people were hesitant to book us because of the name, so we shortened it to Ceann.

You’re American-born, right?
Everyone in the band was born in America. Kind of boring but it gives us a lot of cred with Daughters of the Confederacy.

When did your family get to the States? Do they have anything to do with your love of Irish music?
My great grandparents on both sides were from Ireland. My dad’s family settled in New Jersey and my Mom’s family settled in Connecticut. I heard a bit of Irish music growing up, but not a lot. My dad was a Jazz drummer and classical music enthusiast, so there weren’t a lot of pub tunes being played around the house. I really got exposed to Irish music by going to see Seamus Kennedy play at the Harp and Fiddle in Pittsburgh. I remember thinking that it looked fun and easy. I was right about both.

When did you first pick up a guitar?
There were a lot of instruments around my house growing up. I grew up a drummer, but I was always playing around with the guitars in the house. I would write these really stupid songs and play them for my friends in school. I really started playing guitar when I was about fourteen. I figured out my first chord shortly after my eighteenth birthday. The rest is history. I’ve chronicled it in my book, The History of Not Being a Good Guitar Player; it’s with Random House. Once I figured out that people would pay to see me play songs about wieners and poop, I lost all ambition to become a competent musician.

How did you decide on “Yankee-Irish Drinking Music?”
Our name sucked and we knew it. We also knew we were really an Irish band because we played so much absurd material in our shows. All the Irish nationals that came to see our shows would call us Yanks. So when people wanted to know what kind of music we played, we found Yankee Irish Drinking Music to be a lot more helpful than describing it as Absurdist Irish Comedy Bluegrass Folk Rock.

You play many Irish “standards,” for instance, “The Night that Paddy Murphy Died,” but you also have a number of originals. Who writes them, and where do the ideas come from?
I’ve written a majority of the songs, but since Jeff Hoag joined the band last January, we’ve really connected as co-songwriters. He’s a hysterically funny guy, but he had never written any humorous songs. When we finally sat down to write together, it was an instant connection. He likes non-traditional chord progressions, and it really makes the music more interesting to write, and, I imagine, to listen to. I wrote everything in the same 1-4-5 progression. We were recently called the Lennon and McCartney of Sophomoric music, but we’ve also written a lot of really great music that isn’t of a humorous nature. It’s hard to deny the popularity of the sillier songs, though. I think we’ve become very good at pushing people’s buttons without being shocking just for the sake of shocking people. There’s always something sinister or clever about our lyrics. Except when there isn’t.

When did you realize that you could quit your jobs and do the band full time? How does it feel knowing that you’re supporting yourself by making music—something that very few people can actually do?
When we were recording our last album, “Almost Irish.” The reaction was so good so early on. I had written the Worst Pirate Song in February of 2005 and by June it was clearly more than just another silly song. It was spreading so quickly, and it was becoming this really huge part of our show where people would jump on tables and everyone was dancing and screaming and singing. We took a pretty big chance leaving jobs we all liked, but it was clearly an opportunity to be seized. We knew we were still young enough to be able to hit the road full-time and just play as many shows as we possibly could. The CD gets people interested immediately, and bars have been going out of their way to book us and promote the show. It’s rare we’ll play any place for the first time to an empty bar anymore. The owners play it for their patrons, who tell all their friends and our debut shows really become these huge events. That’s the most amazing thing, the fact that the music is doing most of the legwork for us.

When you’re not making music with Ceann, what do you like to do in your spare time? What kind of music do you listen to?
I’m also a filmmaker, and I just finished a documentary about some bigger-named artists who are operating independently in the music business after having careers with labels. It took up every free second I had when I was playing shows, but it was a fantastic experience. Outside of that, free time is at something of a minimum. The popularity of a bunch of our newer songs threw us back into the studio much sooner than I thought we’d ever be back. So now, when we come home, we go into the studio to work on the album. Other than that, I watch a lot of movies, I read a lot of books—dirty romance novels mostly. Granted, my nipples got hard reading the liner notes to Harry Potter and the Sorcerer’s Stone.

What’s next for Ceann?
We’ve had a surprisingly great reception from the festival scene. So we’re going to pursue that more. Next year, we’re dedicating a lot of time to breaking into the college market. We’ve got a good plan and we know our music is going to blow their heads off. It’s kind of Irish so we get points for being kind of cultural, and then we do sing-a-long songs about suicide bombers, ball-lickin’, and dating Vegans so hopefully we can score big with the Young Republicans.

One last question: why can’t girls be good pirates?
Besides what Jesus said? Girls don’t have the necessary lack of scruples it takes to be a good pirate. Pirates are throat-cutting, baby-stabbing, Parrot-raping, j-walking psychopaths. So no, girls don’t make good pirates. Women, women can definitely be pirates. But girls… they’re just too young.

Ceann*
Wednesday, December 13, 2006
9PM
Fergie’s Pub, 1214 Sansom Street

*Cover is probably $5, but we can’t find that information for sure

Photo provided by Ceann. Pat is the second from the right.