Over the years, Moore has played those songs on picket lines and in prisons, and recorded tracks critical of the Catholic Church, corrupt politicians and merchants of corporate greed — efforts that have made him a target for harassment by the government, the courts and the press. But Moore has never shied from challenging anyone, including his own audience at times.
“There’s little sense in singing a song of conscience to an audience that’s uniformly in agreement,” Costello said, “and Christy’s been willing to make the case in his song interpretations. As much as they come from within the song, they also come from within the man.”
Even as music is increasingly treated as a background utility, Moore retains his faith in its power. “Songs have changed my thinking,” he said. “I’ve been educated by songs, soothed, angered, encouraged, driven, calmed in the dark of night. I’ve had songs banned, slated, loved, lauded. Songs can change me, change you; there is power in that, a power that can change the world.”
Last month, the Irish Traditional Music Archive — which acquired Moore’s manuscripts and recordings — announced plans for a major exhibition on his career to open in January. “The real news, the real versions of what happened historically has always been in the old songs,” Moore observed. “Hopefully that’s encouraging to young songwriters to show that they can be telling the truth of what’s happening today.”
As he prepared to mark his 80th, Moore was pressed as to whether he had any creative or career goals left. He pondered the question for a long moment, before his manager came to remind him that the audience in Mountmellick — 20-somethings and multiple generations of families alike — would soon be filing in to see him play.
“I’ve been very privileged in my life and my music. I’ve no regrets, no great ambitions to fulfill,” he said, smiling, “apart from making it home safe tonight.”
