THE CHRISTMAS THREE

TO BE HONEST, if I was driving past the Point at one o’clock on a Wednesday afternoon and saw what looked like Christy Dignam, Liam O Maonlai and Ronnie Drew standing in the middle of the road wearing false beards and Santy hats, my head wouldn’t so much turn as spin through 360 degrees.

So, you can hardly blame the woman in the yellow Volvo who, on clocking three such recognisable faces engaging in a festive photo opportunity to plug their New Year’s Eve party at the venue, swerves violently and almost adds herself as a mascot to the front of the oncoming Dublin Corporation bus.

Thankfully, though, the session ends with no serious casualties and it’s off to the bar to discuss the background to this curious but not altogether unholy musical alliance over a swift half and packet of Bacon Fries. Judging by the good natured slagging that’s going on, the trio appear to be the best of mates but will there be fisticuffs and hair-pulling on the night to decide who’s going to prop up the bill?

“Jaysus, no,” cackles Ronnie in that famous weather-beaten voice of his. “I told them, ‘if it makes things easier, you can stick our names on the back of the poster!’. I’ve got no time for this prima donna nonsense where the attitude is, ‘we’ve sold fifty more records than them, so we’re going to take the biggest dressing-room, the most beer and go on last’. You start doing that and before you know it, your head disappears up your arse never to see the light of day again. Anyway, I’ve come up with a perfectly fair solution to the problem and that’s the oldest and ugliest band headlines.”

“Oh,” remarks Christy in mock surprise, “I thought it was youse who were finishing off, not the Flowers.”

I’m running the risk of having a pint of Guinness, a can of Coke and a bottle of mineral water emptied over my head here, but what would the lads say to charges that Aslan, The Dubs and Hothouse Flowers are merely gathering together under a flag of convenience to flog tickets.

“That might be the case with a festival,” jumps in Liam, “but with a gig of this nature, it’s as much about the crack as the music and we wouldn’t be doing it unless we genuinely got on with the fellas and thought it was going to make for a memorable night.

“That’s right,” nods Ronnie in agreement. “We were just talking about getting together and rehearsing our party piece for midnight. There’s going to be, what, twelve or thirteen people up on stage and it won’t work unless there’s a bit of mutual respect and genuine admiration for each other’s work.

“I’m game for trying anything – we did the Rose of Tralee and Kilmainham with the Flowers and I haven’t had as much fun in years. There’s this stupid notion that if you’re in a folk band or heavy metal band, that’s the only type of music you actually like. I get a buzz out of stuff that doesn’t bear any relation whatsoever to The Dubliners. Louis Stewart’s a pal of mine and I think he’s a genius but what would I know about playing jazz guitar? I’d make a better plumber.”

“What’s often taken for granted here,” adds Christy, “is just how broad-minded Irish audiences are compared to those in, say, Britain who won’t give you a chance unless you’ve got the right haircut or pair of trousers on. There it’s completely fashion-driven but at The Point you’ll have 18-year-old kids, middle-aged housewives and old age pensioners, and no one’s going to be worried in case they’re dancing or clapping along to the wrong thing.”

So, in other words, Irish punters are prepared to embrace a wider range of cultural facets than the one which conforms most rigidly to their personal tastes and lifestyle?

“Yeah,” pipe up three voices in perfect unison. Together guys or what?

No matter how much they enjoy being on stage, there must be occasions – especially at Christmas – when the lads would rather be sat in their slippers watching telly than freezing their extremities off in the back of a Ford Transit en route to a gig in Ballywherethehellisit?

“I don’t know about the others,” volunteers Christy again, “but I’ve always adopted the philosophy that you make hay while the sun shines. For unsigned bands, in particular, January and February are the months where you fucking starve and even now, with Aslan signed to BMG, we’ve got to go out and play to eat. Having said that, we’ve just pulled a show we were meant to be doing on Christmas Day in Monaghan because, well, no disrespect to Monaghan but I’d rather be at home with my family.”

“New Year is different,” stresses Liam. “After you’ve been stuck in the house for four or five days, you’re going stir crazy and just looking for an excuse to go out and see a few different faces.”

Ronnie, as you’d somehow expect, manages to end up having a party whatever the circumstances.

“Last New Year’s Eve,” he reminisces with a chuckle, “myself and the wife had planned on staying in and taking it easy but at 7 o’clock there was a knock on the door and there was Maírtín Byrne with a fiddle under his arm wondering whether he could come in for a moment and have an ’oul drink. So, before you know it, we’re playing a few jigs and reels and then the woman from down the road, who’s a marvellous singer, calls round and someone else starts on the piano and we’ve got a better session going than you’ll find in any pub.

“My kids are all grown up now but I’ve recently become a sort of adopted grandfather to the 5-year-old son of a friend of mine and that’s rekindled the magic of Christmas for me. I’m going to take him to see Santa and to the pantomime and, you know, that’s what it’s about rather than drinking yourself into a stupor.”

“I have more fun shopping for my daughter’s presents than she has playing with them,” Christy reveals. “I’ll be in the toy shop pressing buttons and pulling strings and everyone’s looking at me as if I’m mad. I’m not a very politically correct Dad – if she wants a gun, or a Barbie doll or an Action Man, she’ll probably end up getting it. I can’t get a handle on this – what do they call it? – gender stereotyping. Kids have a habit of working it out for themselves.”

And what was the best Crimble present he ever received?

“A pedal car – that was rapid.”

“Me too,” chimes in Liam, “I had one which went from 0 - 5 mph in 10 seconds flat.”

And did Ronnie have a pedal car as a kid?

“No, he’s too old,” answers Christy for him. “He had a pedal pony and trap!”

• Aslan, The Dubliners and Hothouse Flowers are joined for their special New Year’s Eve party at the Point by Dervish and The Devlins. Tickets are currently on sale from the usual outlets nationwide.