Dublin City Council’s night-time economy adviser on challenging conversations, the otherworldliness of Connemara and a burning childhood memory
I’m generally agreeable, and I have to get along with most people in my role. I might be talking to a chief superintendent of the guards, a nightclub owner, a DJ, an artist, DCC [Dublin City Council] administration staff or somebody who’s curating a gallery. I don’t mind having the occasional argument, though. Some people have a bit more respect for you when you challenge them.
For whatever reason, my parents never gave me a middle name. I picked David as my Confirmation name because my friend who lived across the road was called David, but I don’t think we were friends six months later.
I have fallen back in love with Dublin as I’m in the city every day, twice a day sometimes. If I need to get away from Dublin, I love to go as far west as possible, and that’s Connemara and Mayo. There’s such a contrast in places like Renvyle and Achill Island; it’s like I’ve entered another world.
A big messer. Okay, maybe not a big messer. It’s actually social, joker, determined.
I’ve started riding a bike to work, so I can now see both sides, and I think I’m a less angry commuter than I was. I get a bit angry when I see Donald Trump’s face on the television, and when I see the lack of action in Gaza, and so on.
Possibly youthful enthusiasm and swagger, that energy, the buzz we had 30 years ago when we were young and were running clubs. I miss the energy you get from the crowds, too. I played in bands as well, years ago, and I miss the thrill of playing live and that feeling of how anything can go wrong. I don’t know necessarily if I’d like it back.
I remember when I was very, very young, like, two or thereabouts, I jumped into the embers of a garden fire. I remember the curiosity of, ‘Oh, I wonder if that’s still hot?’ I don’t recall anything after it, but I had to be taken to hospital.
I’m the middle child of five – four boys and one girl. It’s said that middle children look for attention, which is probably true of me. I acted for a little while, and then I DJ-ed and played guitar. I’m always the one who will get up and make a family speech, if needed.
Hopefully, people will have a funeral and say nice things about me. But no, really, my head is hurting just thinking about it. I believe that we’re part of one big universe and that your spirit lives on in some shape or form.
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I’ve trained myself not to worry, so within reason I try to be in the moment and to live in the moment as much as possible. I don’t have a moment in time when I think I was happiest. I just think there are more happy moments to come, hopefully.
The question is ridiculous, so the answer is going to be ridiculous because the chances of a biopic ever being made are slim to none. Richard Harris in his heyday?
I know I’m sounding very philosophical here, but I genuinely try to live my life without regrets. When my first daughter was born 20 years ago, I basically gave up making music or producing music. I’ve got two beautiful daughters now, and while in a way I regret not pursuing that career, I was making no money from it, so something had to give. I got busier on the other side of the business anyway, and I had a family to take care of. It made me a less selfish person, of course, because you’re not just concentrating completely on yourself and your own career.
I’m very pedantic about small things, especially when it comes to marketing and similar areas. When I ran festivals and gigs, if I saw a typo or anything like that on press releases, posters and so on, I would get annoyed. To an extent, I find that a lack of attention to detail is a bit lazy, and laziness really annoys me. I’m like, surely somebody noticed that before it was published?
