When John Sheahan left a secure, pensionable job to join The Dubliners, shortly after the group had first seen the light of day, he was advised that he might get “two or three years” out of it at best. He could hardly have imagined then that the group would eventually celebrate 40 years as a musical unit, four decades that would see countless albums, innumerable tours, collaborations with the rich and famous, chart successes, awards and, tragically, the passing away of three band members. John Sheahan’s memories of what he has always regarded as an extended family are of crucial importance to an understanding of what has made this great group one of the longest running – and best – shows on the planet.

JACKIE HAYDEN: You’ve been with the Dubliners more or less from the start.

JOHN SHEAHAN: The Dubliners first formed in 1962 and I joined some time in 1964. Initially they’d played under various names, but Luke Kelly was a voracious reader and he was reading Joyce’s Dubliners and it seemed the perfect name.

JH: Let’s talk about all the musicians who’ve been members of the group and see what their names instantly bring to your mind. If I mention the name of Ronnie Drew, what does name immediately conjure up for you? apart from a large beard?

JS: Ronnie is the father-figure of The Dubliners. He encompasses all things Dublin, including the Liffey.

JH: What does Barney McKenna mean to you?

JS: Barney was the man who brought the tenor banjo to prominence on the Irish ballad scene. It was not really much to the fore until he introduced it, although there were a few banjo mandolins around at the time.

JH: Luke Kelly?

JS: Luke was the soul of The Dubliners. His death was a real tragedy and I still miss him terribly, especially when we’re on the road. He was great company and losing him was like losing a member of your family.

JH: Ciaran Bourke?

JS: I always think of the late Ciaran as a Celtic scholar, something of a dreamer, maybe a visionary. He was very knowledgeable, a gentle man who was very good company.

JH: Bob Lynch?

JS: Although the late Bob Lynch is probably the least known former member he meant a lot to me personally. It was actually through him that I joined the group. Up to then I’d only played in céili bands, and then me and Bob started performing as a duo. When he joined the group himself he kept ringing me up to get me to join and eventually I did.

JH: Jim McCann?

JS: Jim has a special, sweet, soft voice. Whenever I think of Jim I automatically think of the song ‘Carrickfergus’. The two are inextricably linked in my mind. He’s also a very accomplished guitar player which is something that is very rarely acknowledged by people outside the group.

JH: Sean Cannon?

JS: He has a similar style of singing, but I think of him as more of an academic individual. He’s very good at picking up languages and he’s taught languages around Europe. He should have been a university professor.

JH: Eamonn Campbell?

JS: We were doing a gig in Galway a long time ago and when Luke stepped up to sing a heckler in the audience shouted at him, “Get on with it, you woolly head!” To which Luke quickly replied, “At least my head’s only woolly on the outside!”

But I’ve now come to associate that quip with Eamonn Campbell. He has a kinda wild image, but he’s a fine arranger, he’s got a great grasp of the theoretical side of music, he’s a great guitar-player and an excellent producer. He’s certainly no woolly-head on the inside!

JH: Finally, there’s Paddy Reilly…

JS: Paddy has that same kind of powerful voice that Luke had. There’s a strong similarity between them in many ways, and they were really good pals while Luke was alive. In a way he’s been an extended member of the Dubliners family since the start.

JH: To look at the actual music, supposing there was only one Dubliners album you could pick for your desert island, which one would you go for?

JS: (pauses) I think it’d have to be the Revolution album from the seventies. It was our first album to go beyond the accepted instrumentation for a ballad group. We introduced not only piano and bass but Phil Coulter, who produced the album, added in harpsichord. This was unheard of for the time.

So it wasn’t just an album that dealt with revolution in the political sense but there was a musical revolution in there too.

JH: Of all the tracks recorded by The Dubliners is there a single track or a single performance you think really captures the spirit of the group?

JS: I think it would have to be ‘Seven Drunken Nights’ which was a big hit in 1967, but I’m not picking it because it was a hit. It has all the basic sounds that represent The Dubliners to me at their best, from Ronnie’s raucous voice to the basic instrumentation and the type of song it is.

I also have a great love for Luke’s version of ‘The Town I Loved So Well’ which was on the Revolution album.

JH: Is there a special live gig that stands out in your memory?

JS: I think the first gig we did at the Albert Hall stands out, in, I think, 1967. It was our first major breakthrough into the big time as it were. Up to then we’d only ever played folk clubs, really. It was a very daunting experience. When I was on stage looking up at the tiers of the gods I felt as small as a fly. But it was a huge success and it brought us to a whole new audience.

Actually, that reminds me of Barney. To Barney, one venue was much the same as another, and he could rarely even remember their names. On the night of that gig he stopped a London taxi and asked to be taken to “the big, roundy place near the park”, as he put it. At first the taxi driver was totally perplexed, but then he recognised Barney as a member of the Dubliners and got him there, no problem.

JH: The Dubliners are best known for the ballads, but they also recorded a lot of instrumentals over the years. You had your own solo success with the ‘Marino Waltz’, but is there a Dubliners instrumental that means a lot to you?

JS: I think it was before ‘Seven Drunken Nights’ that we recorded ‘The Mason’s Apron’. That’s a bit special for me, and there was also a mandolin duet with Barney on ‘Roisin Dubh’ that was wonderful too.

JH: Looking back over the 40 years, it there a personal highlight, something that meant a lot to you?

JS: I’ll never forget a concert we did in Perth, Australia. It was just a normal gig until I spotted the great French jazz violinist Stephane Grappelli going into the auditorium. I realised he wasn’t there just to hang out but he was going to be in the audience! One of the best violin players in the world and I was going to have to play in front of him! But the gig went well and the next day we met up with him and when he told us he loved the show I was delighted.

JH: But there must have been a lowlight too.

JS: Oh, yes, but without doubt the low point was Luke’s death. A real tragedy and a real loss in both a musical and a personal sense.

JH: Over the decades you’ve collaborated with many musicians, sharing stages with folk legends like Pete Seeger to recording with bands like The Pogues. But is there one collaboration that means more than most to you?

JS: Yes. We did a track with Rory Gallagher called ‘The Barley And The Grape Rag’. We did it for the Thirty Years A Greying album. That was ten years ago but it still sounds terrific. But we’ve had memorable collaborations with people like Billy Connolly, Christy Moore and, of course, The Pogues.

JH: Are there artists you haven’t worked with yet but someday you would like to do so?

JS: I met Lonnie Donegan recently and he volunteered to do something with us and that would be interesting. As it happens, he told me that he was to meet Rory’s brother Donal to discuss recording a posthumous duet with the late Rory. I would also like to work with the classical violinist Nigel Kennedy. He’s a marvellous player.

JH: Would you work with Kylie Minogue?

JS: (laughs) I’m not sure if we’d have all that much in common, but if we were asked we’d probably do it for the crack!

JH: Do you have a favourite part of Dublin yourself?

JS: I grew up beside the Marino Casino on the Malahide Road, so naturally I took it for granted. But later I began to appreciate what a beautiful building it is. I became enthralled by its architecture and by the various architectural tricks, if that’s the word, used in it. I composed a piece of baroque music inspired by that building and I recorded it with a string quartet for a millennium compilation album called Ceol Reoite in the year 2000.

JH: Do you have a favourite Dublin historical figure?

JS: Kathleen Behan. She was a terrific vibrant character, a woman full of life and energy. She was a big Dubliners fan and we met her several times. It was rare to meet her without her bursting into song.

JH: How would you sum up your nigh-on 40 years with The Dubliners?

JS: It’s been a unique, privileged experience to be able to make a living out of your hobby, especially after people had advised that it would only last a couple of years.

I’ve played with great people and made great music and travelled all over the world.

JH: And what of the immediate future?

JS: Well, we’re off soon to Finland. Then there’s a tour of Ireland starting in June. In the autumn we go to Germany and Holland. But more immediately we’ve been asked by Sky television to take part in some broadcast they’re doing which I think is connected to the General Election.

JH: Did you ever think of running yourself?

JS: Sure I have enough trouble walking!

JS: Do you think you’ll hang on for another 40 years?

JS: Well I’ll be a 103 years old then, but we’ve no plans to stop, anyway! I think it’s worked so well because we give each other the space to come and go as we please.

I remember when Noel Pearson was our manager, he sat us down one day and told us we were too sloppy and things would have to be tidied up and put on a proper business footing. So he drew up a contract that bound each one of us to the other four, and bound all five of us to him. We met to discuss it among ourselves and looked at each other and decided we weren’t into all this contract stuff. If somebody wanted to leave they should be able to leave and that’s the way it’s been ever since.