(PITTSFIELD, Mass., March 15, 1998) -- Everyone was Irish on Saturday night, when Black 47 returned to The Studio for one last blast of its politically-charged, socially-conscious, Irish rock-rap fusion.

A loyal band of fans who had braved one of the season's final snowstorms was on hand to celebrate an early St. Patrick's Day and to bond communally around lead singer-songwriter Larry Kirwan's anthems of the dispossessed.

Whether he is singing of historical figures like Michael Collins ("The Big Fellah") or one of his fictional creations like the chimney sweep Sam Hall ("Sam Hall"), Kirwan invests his rousing numbers with a forceful narrative drive belying his day-job as a playwright.

Presumably he also draws on his work in the theater for the drama of his performances. While he borrows liberally from rock 'n' roll convention, Kirwan brings an extra amount of charisma to the stage, so that even when there are just a few hundred people in attendance as there were on Saturday night, they are made to feel part of a mass movement.

Thus, even the most apolitical of concertgoers could not help but get swept up into the frenzy of "Time To Go," one of Black 47's best, self- reflective story songs that ties the fate of the group itself to the greater cause of Irish independence without bloodshed.

While the group seemed ragged in spots, perhaps due to a reportedly harrowing trip up from New York City in the midst of one of the winter's worst storms, the musicians were able to conjure up enough energy to deliver all the key elements of Black 47's signature sound: the swirling Celtic melodies of Chris Byrne's uilleann pipes echoed by Geoffrey Blythe's saxophone, the dual R&B horns of Blythe and trombonist Fred Parcells, and the twin raps of Kirwan and Byrne, who came across at times as the Irish-American answer to the Beastie Boys.

[This review originally appeared in the Berkshire Eagle on March 17, 1998. Copyright Seth Rogovoy 1998. All rights reserved.]