Irish singer-songwriter Niall Connolly launched his tenth studio album, There’s So Much More to See (C.U. Records: 2026), with a concert at The Bitter End, in Greenwich Village, last Saturday. I went to listen to him play live with his full band, and the concert felt like homecoming. They opened the show with “I Wish There Was a Way,” and I was happy to see Niall onstage with Len Monachello on percussion, Chris Foley on electric guitar, Brandon Wilde on bass, and Dennis Cronin on trumpet.
It was my first time listening to the whole crew together in perhaps two, but probably three, years. Seeing a group of good friends together onstage was already a hopeful moment, just as in the opening lyrics:
I wish there was a way
We could be nice to each other again
I wish there was a way
We could do right by each other again
Niall’s lyrics in this song, as in much of the album, speak to the current contentious state of society in these disyunáited estéits of américa, but not from bitterness, rather from a longing to encounter each other with frankness and kindness. Most of the time.
There are also moments of indignation, as in the song “Bless Their Hearts” which could very well be directed to the orange sociopathy that has overtaken the heart-minds of a sizable proportion of the people in los disyunáited estéits:
Bless their hearts, bless their hearts, what’s a boy to do?
Bless their hearts, bless their hearts, what’s a boy to do?
I thought you were a liar or an idiot
I see at last I never had to pick
You’re just a clown made out of paint
A statue mistaken for a saint
The restrained yet powerful percussion and the parsimonious, intense notes on the electric guitar conveyed the feeling of sarcastic exasperation that came through Niall’s voice as well.
Nonetheless the prevalent mood in the live show, as in the album, was the earnest desire to keep moving, to keep growing, to keep striving, to keep enjoying what life has to offer and what we can offer to each other as we live it. The album’s title comes from a verse of “Swimming Upstream” that expresses this resilience:
Anticipating grief will not shield you when it comes
Go away then lead a good life
Love who and how you love
We moved to the city 'cause they said it would be hard
Keep on moving just to stay where you are
No time for sleep when you’re living the dream
Salmon, salmon keep swimming upstream
There’s so much more to see
I had been feeling this way on the days before the concert, even on my walk from Houston Street to Bleecker Street in Greenwich Village: Being here in New York City with each other, with friends and strangers, living, commuting, making time for love and fun while also studying, working (teaching in my case) — all of this takes grit and courage, but it is worthwhile. And there we were at The Bitter End: Niall playing with his band and the audience listening, all wishing to celebrate life and music on a Saturday evening, like salmon swimming upstream.
For all its social and political urgency, the album’s most distinctive characteristic is precisely this intimate, raw instinct to persevere in love and joy, even in the face of painful loss and its ensuing grief. Niall played the piano in “Happiness and Pain” as he remembered the loss of his close friend Dave, from Cork:
When we carried our friend Dave
I felt the warm tears on my face
I saw the tears on the faces
Of everyone we know
I thought oh no, this is love
And sometimes love is not enough
I’ve been here in your darkness
I’ve been here in your dawnlight
I was with you at that party
In your corner at that fight
I was there for your first breath
I’ll be there till your last
When your first worry is born
And your last doubt has past
I’ve been here all along
I’ve been here all along
Niall’s friend died about six months before my childhood friend, Juan Pablo, brother to my heart, and as Niall sang I remembered JuanPa, his smile, his caring friendship, his unrelenting love of life in the face of hardship. Niall’s father, Frank, also passed away about six months before my own father died. I though of both of them, Frank and R.C.M., as Niall sang “It’s Your Birthday Tomorrow” with notes of melancholy, gratefulness, and saudade:
It’s your birthday tomorrow
The first one since you went away
I can’t call you on the phone anymore
I might do it anyway
I think of you
When I’m trying to get to sleep
I think of you
I’m fighting hell in my dreams
I think of you
I face tomorrow anew
Oh, how I miss you
I was about to break down and cry right there, on the front row facing the stage, when Niall spoke to the audience as he tuned his acoustic guitar, told a lighthearted joke, and then sang “Here we are ’til we aren’t,” the opening verse to the song “A Joyful Sound.” With that verse he brought me back to the present moment, to draw a fresh breath and and make a joyful sound with the chorus:
Here we are till we aren’t
Pushing the air around
Trying not to fall out of the sky
With a low thud on the ground
I never meant to wreck your party
Bring all your nice friends down
I’m still here and you’re still here
Let’s make a joyful sound
And that’s true. Sometimes it feels that’s all we can do, but also the best we can do: Avoid falling out of the sky to make a thud as we hit the ground; sing in joy instead.
Jen, Damian, Clare, Cal, Ali, and other friends were in the audience. I looked at them, looked at Niall with his band, thought of many other beloved friends, and called to them all in my heart: “Let’s make a joyful sound together.”
Daniel G. Campos 