22 May 1980
It’s 1980, and Charles Haughey, the most divisive Irish public figure of the time, has finally assumed power. The rest of the decade will see his many enemies try repeatedly to bring him down, but without success. Little could anyone in 1980 have imagined that the person eventually responsible for Haughey’s downfall 12 years later would not be a scheming back-bencher, ambitious cabinet minister or intrepid journalist, but Shay Healy, the TV personality who wrote Johnny Logan’s first Eurovision winner that same year.
Johnny Logan is a far, far less divisive figure. Whatever your feelings on Eurovision in general or his songs in particular, pretty much everyone in Ireland likes Johnny. He seems to possess enough of a sense of humour to send himself up in TV ads, which is always a good sign in a celebrity. He has a long-standing relationship of requited love with Dublin football club Bohemians, whose fans would walk out onto a busy motorway for him if they had to. And every year when Ireland’s latest Eurovision entry falters in the semi-final, the playful cry echoes around Irish social media: send for Johnny! You don’t see this level of genuine Irish public affection for Bono, that’s for sure.
‘What’s Another Year’ was a bit before my time, so I’m listening to it without the context of Eurovision-winning euphoria at Johnny delivering rare international success for Ireland. (Our crushing national inferiority complex in the ’80s is something that’ll crop up again in these posts as we continue.) The key line comes towards the end: “I’ve been crying / Such a long time / With such a lot of pain in every tear”, Johnny sings, while sounding as if he is actually crying and in pain. The record sleeve (see above) even features a weeping eye, so intrinsic is this to the song. This level of cabaret kayfabe from start to finish of ‘What’s Another Year’ isn’t for everyone, and it’s not for me.
Were this the Irish National Treasures site I’d be happily raising the same ’10’ paddle for Johnny as I would for Paul McGrath or Edna O’Brien. But it’s not. Don’t be harsh on me. Deep down, you know I’m right about this.
