In these Radiowaves-exclusive articles, legendary presenter Pat Courtenay shares his views, ideas, experience, and tips with our visitors…

This time around Pat rambles on a bit – as you do…


Do you know Dave Maloney, the drummer for the Cajun Kings? Dave’s brother is the RTÉ jock Mike, and when Dave wasn’t drumming for the Kings, he drove a taxi…as you do.

Well, do you know the Dublin bar, The Buttery Brasserie? I used to call it, The Brass Buttocks, ‘cos if you were a guy, you’d nearly want buttocks of that resilience in there. Of course there was always the clatter of models intent on not getting lipstick on their spritzer glass (get it on something else later, but still!), but the attendant hangers-on usually tended to “desssign” things and choreograph the aforesaid models. You couldn’t get a decent pint, but you could pay twice as much and get a shot of that apple-hooch from France that could power a Porsche round Le Mans for about 25 hours.

Anyway, I bumped into Dave and in we went.

So, we’re leaning on the bar, dividing our time between checking out the chicks and deciding between Heinecken and Heinecken (I did mention you couldn’t get a decent pint?), when suddenly a squawky cockney-style voice yelps from a watch-me-‘cos-I’m-here raised area behind us, shouting, “‘Ey, Maloney, you c**t! Wha’ are you fin’ doin’ ‘ere??” Well, Maloney slowly turned his head round, elbows still on the bar and replied to Ronnie Wood, “I’m getting’ a fin’ pint, Ron. Hang on a minute, righ’?”

Now, the Kings feature on a Ronnie Wood solo album from about ’88. They do an instrumental, as I remember. Dave says they went into a home studio that was beyond belief: on the walls were instruments from Wood’s career, and there was a Charlie Watts drum-kit…which Dave got to play.

On Ronnie Wood’s album…as you do.

Dave used to drive me home of an afternoon in his taxi and I used to watch the Kings down on Temple Bar.

Does everyone know the story about Gabriel Byrne walking down the steps of the Shelbourne one morning when two Lads walk past and say, “How’re ya, Gabriel!”? As you do.

Mr. Byrne thinks (I’m sure), “This is why I love Dublin. Everyone’s just normal with you,” returns the greeting and heads off in the direction of Grafton Street to exercise his Plastic. Couple of seconds later, Da Lads sing out again, “Hey, Gabriel!” The Hollywood megastar turns (loving every second of this companionable recognition) to hear, “Ya were shite in The Courier!”

Jim O’Neill and I were working on the satellite Nova. We decided we’d have A Weekend at Jim’s place. (I remember trying to cook ducks that arrived to the table at about 2:00 a.m….well the worse for wear – the ducks were in rag order as well!)

I had my guitar, Jim had his keyboard and he’d found a bunch of Surrey muso’s who weren’t really up to the task. So, with a lot of all the Good Things on board, doesn’t O’Neill phone Hendrix’s bass-player, Noel Redding!

To play him some music.

As you do.

Noel listens to Jim’s keyboards and says, “Yeah, not bad, but you never really do anything new!”


Jenny, a Kiwi cousin of mine, visits Dublin. We’re over on the Southside in my car. The Edge passes us going the other way outside Blackrock College in that Mercedes of his. I say (anticipating the reaction), “There’s The Edge.” Well, Jenny wants me to stand my hard-earned Beamer on its head to chase him. I’m like, “It’s cool. This is normal. The guy lives here.”

As you do.

Next: The Way Of It Is

© Pirate Radio Limited & Radiowaves. First published March 15th 2003