Dear Dave
Photo by Olli Hauser
Nancy Spains, Cork circa 1996
R.IP. David O’ Mahony
Feb 14th, 2024
I heard Sebadoh’s ‘Soul and Fire’ on WFUV driving upstate Friday night. Was that only Friday? I thought of you. I always think of you when I hear a song you introduced me to. Which is more often than would seem possible. You were a little older and had an electric guitar and a small amp. And you could play. We knew nothing but you didn’t care. Or if you did you’d indulge us. You had cousins in London, Lemonheads and Pavement vinyl, Nirvana on MTV. Your mother, Kay, read books voraciously and drove a red and white 2Cv. Your father Denis, knew all about computers before we knew what computers were. Effortlessly cool, the lot of ye.
Cork – 1993 – Play, Record, Pause
We put egg cartons on the shed walls and made a whole lotta noise in there. If you lived within half a mile of Meadowbrook, you know the egg cartons didn’t work. “Check this out”. The latest band found somewhere impermanent and unreliable on the dial. Dave Fanning. No Disco. The Whumanz on White street, what was that place called? De burca’s? The Forum. Connollys of Leap. Later ‘anomie’ on Barrack street. Rehearsing in Nancy Spain’s. And opening for the Sultans in Henry’s. You were cool.
Photo by Olli Hauser, Nancy Spains, Cork 1996 ish
Cyprus -2000
You came to Cyprus. Myself and Dara were working there. I remember meeting you at the airport when you came and walking by the ocean at dawn. You singing the Sid Vicious version of ‘My Way’ at karaoke. The bewildered English and German holiday makers loved you too.
You dislocated your shoulder yawning one morning on that trip. “My shoulder’s popped Nially”. They lost your shoes at the hospital. We found them again. They popped your shoulder back in. The x ray had a perfect typo. Name: David O’ Manic.
Manic Street Preachers- Motorcycle Emptiness
NYC 2015
I was hosting some Big City Folk event at Caffe Vivaldi in the Village the night you were arriving. I had my eye on the door the whole time, telling everyone “My friend Dave is coming.” When you finally walked in you got a round of applause. I was so happy to have you over for a week and half. We were living in Brooklyn then. Like yesterday and a lifetime ago.
We spent a few nights upstate. I’m just chronicling here. Putting some treasured memories in a shoe box lest they ever attempt to escape.
The Tall Ships Race, Cork, 1991
Somewhere in between Italia 90 and the Celtic Tiger the Tall Ships came to Cork. One hundred boats from bygone days sailed on up the harbour. My parents had friends down to Crosshaven to look out at the majestic spectacle on the harbour.
I feel like we walked into the village and played arcade games and almost missed it but didn’t. You wrote your initials on the lifebuoy pole by Bull Rock ‘DOM’ . was sad to see it eventually gone what seemed like decades later.
Dave O’ Mahony was here. And we were all the better for it.
I don’t remember not knowing you. I refuse to not know you now. I could go on and on. So, I will.
Anomie, Cork, 1996 -ish
L-R Chloe, Dave, Justin, Me
Photo by Olli Hauser
Waterside Quay, Cork- 2004 ish
We never think we will forget the things we forget. I’m fairly sure it was 2004 we lived together in Waterside Quay but I’m not entirely certain.
A ground floor apartment. You coming in through the window. Billy, yourself and myself . The Tuesday challenge, write something new. Listening to albums at home and heading to the Brog.
Feb 18th, Grief at 30,000 Feet
****
I lost a dear friend
I put down the phone, closed the bedroom door
I crumpled on the floor
‘Till my little girl called “hey dada I’m bored”
I am luck I am broken I am I am
The curious dry patch of a wet road
There’s a big loud pain a coming
For now I’m numb as stone
I know less with each passing day
‘Till one day I will fade
Back into the fabric of time
From whence I came
I thought I knew sorrow
A passing anvil casting shadow
Occasionally
You slipped out the back door
And now I can’t get back to sleep
It cannot be true it can’t be
It cannot be true yet it is
It cannot be true it can’t be
It cannot be true yet it is
**
Somehow I’m on a plane
Eating a sandwich “my perfect cousin “
Put in my hand
A brown paper bag
All the fixings and a napkin
And for reasons unknown
It’s this attention to detail
That makes me well up
People are so good
When the shit hits the fan
Some people are so good
My brain is doing something very strange
Like I’m on pause
Like I’m the platform and my thoughts are a train
Rattling by
We can look back but
We can’t go back.
Fuck.
******
Oh I’m gonna miss you
Carry you in my shirt pocket
In my mind every step that I’m walking
Keep my hard heart from stopping
You’re here in this bar-chord you taught me
This melody I’m drawing
The sun rising up on the
Meadowbrook dawning
Bouncing back off the back
Of the church wall
You can’t be gone
You can’t be .
No more gone
Than my cheek bone
For you are the
Cornerstone
Of so many of
My memories
And what are we
Except our memories?
*****
He is and he isn’t.
Time and space between the news and the plane.
In between, I went to Vermont I played two beautiful gigs opening for the superb John McCauley of Deer Tick in Manchester, Vermont. Snow falling softly on the motel car park. Like the beginning or end of a movie. Driving back later listening to a short story abruptly interrupted half way through when the radio lost the station. Just like that..
It’s very picturesque. And fucking freezing. I joke with Anthony that I’d rather be warm and looking at a picture of it. I wouldn’t though. No. I’m grateful to have somewhere to be and something to pour my hurting soul into. . Kind people and silence.
The motel is perfect. Spotless and quiet. Adding to the surrealistic feel of the past few days. The key sticks in the door. The sound of the heat wakes me up. My sleep has been brutal since you died. Variations of a theme. Waking up and momentarily thinking it is all a bad dream.
I couldn’t find the venue the first night. The satellites gave up on me. Make a u turn. Take the third exit on the roundabout. Make a u turn. IT took me 46 minutes to drive a 9 minute drive. In the end the host had to meet me in a CVS. That’s a first.
I’m on the plane now. So it must be real. Stopover in Iceland. Rain and photographs of volcanoes.
Feb 21st – Plane back after the funeral
Your father and your brothers spoke so lovingly and proudly of you. Justin mentioned the parka, the school bag with the band names already graffitied on, Madonna on the tin whistle. Denis talked of your love and knowledge of Art and going on holidays. Your love for your nephews and nieces. Evan about how funny you were and so much more. How your niece always insisted you carry her to the car. How we would have to carry each other now. The priest had seen us play as Anomie. Fr. Pat also quoted the Smiths and Abba. Your love of art. Your smile. You on the bike. Your musical recommendations. Everyone mentioned those. A string quartet Davey, playing Nick Cave’s “Into My Arms”. And people from all parts of your life. Loving you and consoling each other. I sang Seagull and had the sad honour of helping shoulder your casket. I am grateful I could be there as you were always, always, always, always there for me.
Later in Ringaskiddy: The Manics, the Beatles and Massive Attack. God help us all.
March 8th, 2024
I see you in my dreams most nights. I hear your voice clear as a bell: “Nially!”. If I ever called you David, you would reply, “Niall-id”. A million little things. There are places I can go to be sad. I’m telling everyone about you. People are so good when things are so bad. We miss you Dave.
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What a lovely dedication to a soft and beautiful soul.
Dave will never be forgotten and will always be Meadowbrook as much as the Strand, as much as the cul-de-sac, as much as Robin, as much as the flood in 2012.
No airs or graces, no arrogance, just a humble acceptance of what is.
I’m sure he is smiling and singing your (praises (and songs) on the other side.
Keep his memory alive in your words Niall.
God bless
Beautifully put yourself Eamon, thank you.
Wonderful writeup of my son Dave. . Thanks Niall..
I am glad you liked it Denis. I will be talking about Dave and thinking of him forever.
Lovely words, Niall. Everyone should have a Dave in their life. I’m glad you had Dave in yours. He sounds like a legend. I’m so sorry for your loss. x
Thank you Justin.
Such beautiful memories. Thank you so much for sharing🩷