20 Years of Proper House

30th Oct 2008

20 Years of Proper House
Finbarr Barry

Shane and Greg. Unusually the opposite way 'round.

Starting a house music night was always destined to be a good-fit for the Cork mindset. The tribal nature of the scene fitted well with Corkonians' long established colloquial spirit as the county surged into sporting dominance at the end of the eighties, capturing the previous elusive hurling and football double in 1990 with Teddy McCarthy becoming the first human to win two senior All-Ireland medals in the same year.

When Jack Charlton's Republic of Ireland almost pipped the "mighty" Italians for a World Cup semi-final spot earlier that year, the country's new found self-confidence, in no short supply on Leeside, no doubt helped to fuel the euphoric atmosphere at Sir Henrys where the now two-decade old club night Go Deep has its roots.

The robust ability of Go Deep (originally named 'Sweat' before leaving Sir Henrys) to deflect music related distractions and to seem to shrug off resistance has characterised its ever-present image among the Cork faithful. Its original torch bearers still carry the flame and this weekend, DJ's Greg Dowling and Shane Johnson celebrate twenty years of dance music with as much enthusiasm and integrity as they first brought to the turntables in 1988, their reputation now bolstered by a series of internationally acclaimed releases.

One seemingly unimportant detail of their legacy may summarise how Corkonians' quiet affection and loyalty to the duo remained consistent over the last twenty years.

2FM's Mickey Mac

In 1997 the pair's regular end-of-year tape appeared on the shelves of local stores around Christmas. Simply entitled "The Best of 1997" it was accompanied by the subtle but truthful sub-text that the mix was a summary of a year of "proper house music".

From another cultural node the use of the word "proper" might have been perceived as arrogant, especially whilst operating in a genre of music that seemed to sensationally announce an off-shoot style with every monthly issue of whatever British dance magazine was in vogue at a given time.

However, Greg and Shane had sufficiently proven themselves to have walked-the-walk with Cork clubbers and appeared impervious to the Corkonian cardinal sin of "losing the run of themselves" - unlike those elsewhere in Dublin and the UK where DJ's scrambled pathetically to become the latest style setters and fashionistas.

On that small seemingly insignificant and humble tape cover the refusal to use any other adjective before "house" like tribal, tech, happy, deep, dub, French, Italian etc to fill any fashionable insecurities or to set ourselves apart was not required. It didn't matter what the sub-genre was, just that it was good and proper.

Furthermore, what seemed to placate, often fiercely opinionated, Corkonians was that Greg and Shane kept their heads down and got on with the job - like the hard tackling midfielder who just got on with the game, never falling for bottomless new trends or playing to the prawn sandwich brigade - they just played the records they felt like playing.

The sweaty faithful

In a typically contrary manner often associated with Corkonians, it never seemed that the local clubber wanted to tell the world about Sweat/Go Deep being the greatest club night on earth but confusingly at the same time we did want the world to know it was here. Probably in case the world actually came and wrecked it on us!

Word eventually got out but not enough to prevent the club's feet from remaining firmly on the ground: Bus loads of clubbers poured into Cork City at weekends from Belfast, Dublin, Waterford, Limerick and the UK as influential reviews shone as brightly as the glow-sticks and luminous clothing that filled the club.

By the time Dublin based 2FM sent the likes of Mickey Mac to announce the arrival of dance music to the rest of Ireland, even the dogs on Shandon Street had Henry's mixtapes and knew of Stevie G's rapidly growing hip-hop tangent in the backroom.

Flahs clawing to get a piece of Stevie G

In the late nineties when RTE got around to making a very strange documentary on ten years of dance music in Ireland it seemed that the programme's makers had little interest in looking beyond the Red Cow Roundabout and a handful of super-cool Dublin scenesters. A short snippet of Greg Dowling, ironically himself originally a Dub, was the patronising nod to Cork's pioneering duo and massive house music following.

The farcically Dublin-centric account of the evolution of dance music on the island was seen as a snub beyond all reason by a majority of discombobulated Henrys regulars, many who naively believed that the documentary would have been a long overdue but highly justified massage of Cork's musical integrity - akin to a "coming-out" for the true trendsetters.

The general consensus among Sweat/Go Deep regulars is that while the myriad of international guests were gleefully welcomed and loudly lauded, it was the average Saturday night with the local pair at the helm that stood out most - just, as one assumes, like this Saturday night.

Still as popular as ever Go Deep, now monthly at the Pavilion with a sound system that pleasingly raises eyebrows even among the most hardened Sir Henrys extremists, the story continues for Cork's house music scene as Greg and Shane celebrate twenty years behind the turntables.

Shane gives Mathew Herbert a few mixing tips

One can only but admire the pair's consistency and ability to seem undeterred by events external to their DJing trade: for example the demolition of the institution where they blossomed, media attempts to scandalise it by hysterically connecting it to drugs and the temptation to compromise their core product to appease the new-trend kids.

There's something about Go Deep and its subtle Cork traits that subconsciously attracts us to the very idea of it. Only those who have witnessed patrons erupting at the slightest hint of an incoming bassline or a snippet of vocals can fully appreciate that connection - like those who know what it is like to witness a crucial goal at the 'Cross or see a mesmerising injury-time point from the Town End of Semple Stadium and to stand with fellow Corkonians, dare we say, in total ecstasy.

These days Mickey Mac and many other style chameleons have abandoned their faux and former love for whatever the style magazines are proclaiming chic or, more likely, wherever the money stream flows quickest.

The Corkonian mindset is that we already know instinctively what is best and that what we engage in down here in the Peoples Republic is righteous and, of course unquestionably 'proper'.