Nurtured by Dublin’s thriving beat group scene, GRANNY’S INTENTIONS built a reputation as the best soul band on The Emerald Isle. Then at the height of their fame they decamped to London to become psychedelic pop dandies during the Summer Of Love. Two years later, when they recorded their one and only album (containing the first appearance on vinyl of future blues maestro Gary Moore), they’d re-invented themselves as battle-weary country- rockers before imploding in a haze of drugs and personal problems. DARAGH O’HALLORAN tells the story of Ireland’s first rock band.


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N IRELAND AT THEDAWNOF the ’60s showbands roamed the land. On any given night, in any given town, city or rural hinterland across the


country a group of neatly coiffured and smartly dressed musicians (typically numbering seven) would take to the stage of a large alcohol-free ballroom and perform endless cover versions of the most popular tunes of the day. Hundreds, sometimes thousands, of paying punters would cram into their local venue to dance to country music, light pop, big band numbers, crooners’ standards and anything else that was riding high in the charts in those pre- Beatles days. But this wasn’t music for the kids; this wasn’t rock ’n’ roll. Urban youngsters had been listening surreptitiously to Radio Luxembourg late at night, thrilled by the sound of American soul and R&B. They’d been forming ramshackle skiffle bands in school and learning to play Lonnie Donegan songs and saving up to buy proper guitars by charging a few pence to get in to a record hop where they spun their favourite blues and rockabilly records. By 1963 some teenage groups were getting regular gigs around a circuit of tennis and rugby clubs scattered throughout the suburbs of Dublin. Soon, one or two enterprising young scamps commandeered the basements of old Georgian buildings in the city centre and put on nights of live music and DJs – an exciting alternative to the staid showbands. By the mid-60s the underground network of clubs, groups and fans was big enough to warrant visits from touring musicians such as The Walker Brothers, The Who, The Creation, The Kinks and even Bob Dylan.


A parentally-unapproved trip up to Dublin to see one such international touring act, The Rolling Stones, at The Adelphi cinema in October ’65 was to prove pivotal in the lives of a group of young lads from the small provincial city of Limerick. It would also turn out to be crucial for the expansion of Irish rock music outside of its restrictive borders,


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as the group in question mapped out a route for other musicians to pursue in the years to come. As is usually the case, those followers enjoyed a level of success far beyond that experienced by the pioneers. Granny’s Intentions, a name that whiffs heavily of incense, Victorian hippy garb and whimsical psychedelia, were the first Irish group to base themselves in the dynamic environs of the London music scene to further their careers; they were the first Irish act to get signed by highly regarded progressive UK label Deram; and their album Honest Injun (recorded in ’69) was the first example of a cohesive full- length rock LP to emerge from the Republic Of Ireland. Blighted by inter-group conflicts, poor management, record company disinterest, disruptive drug use and the myopic frivolity of youth, Granny’s Intentions never quite made it as big as their champions and fans in Ireland so dearly wished. They weren’t lacking in talented songwriters and gifted players however, and the music they released in that short three year period stands up impressively in comparison to many British and American contemporaries of the time.


After seeing the mayhem caused by the Stones at The Adelphi that infamous autumn night, young Limerick native Johnny Duhan and two of his friends decided to form a group. They originally christened the band The Intentions, subtly referencing The Temptations and The Impressions, two formative vocal R&B influences. Granny’s Intentions (the prefix was soon added to modernise the group’s image) would quickly gain a reputation in the clubs of Dublin as the best soul/Motown band in Ireland, as Duhan and co-vocalist Cha Harren, nattily attired in double breasted suits and trilby hats, belted out the floor-shaking tunes. Musically the group were far from limited however, mixing up Leadbelly, Howlin’ Wolf and Brownie McGhee along with Del Shannon, Buddy Holly, Chuck Berry and Ray Charles in their expansive set.


Granny’s began playing their brew of soul, pop and blues in the ballrooms of Limerick and Cork as support to touring showbands. As the beat scene in the south west was fairly under- developed as the Intentions were finding their feet, they regularly travelled up to Dublin to play for more receptive audiences. On one such trip to the capital the group recruited John Ryan, a talented songwriter and pianist who was brought in on keyboards to fill out the sound. After rehearsing diligently in Limerick, perfecting their image and working hard on the visual aspect of their live show, the group decided to base themselves in the capital permanently – a necessary move if they were to stand any chance of furthering their career. Some of the founding group members had moved on by this point, so the new line-up of Granny’s Intentions, which would always be subject to unexpected arrivals and departures, comprised: Johnny Duhan and Cha Harren (both vocals), Johnny Hockedy (guitar), Jack Costello (bass), John Ryan (piano and keyboards) and Italian- Irishman Guido DiVito on drums. The group were firmly established as a major draw on the Dublin beat scene by the second half of ’66, although life was a struggle as they sought to carve out a niche.


“After a German tour fell through we spent a month or so living in a squat in Baggot Street.” recalls Johnny Duhan, “living on our nerves and a hooker who generously provided us with fish and chips at our lowest ebb. On the music scene, there were tons of competing beat groups all vying for gigs in a handful of beat clubs. Cha was a great gig hustler and we were musically ahead of many of the other bands. Most of all though, we were hungry, literally starving at times.”


The Scene Club on Parnell Square in the heart of the city became a regular haunt for Granny’s where they would play two sets a night, stretching out over four hours with a 20 minute break in between. Always keen to impress the crowds with something more


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