— We’ll put them righ’ though, wha’. Play it again, Jimmy, will yeh.
— Will we have names? Derek asked.
— Ah Jaysis, no, said Jimmy. — Not tha’ shi’e again. This is different.
Outspan agreed with him.
— Would yis mind, said Mickah, — if I had a bit of a name?
— Wha’?
— Tex.
They laughed. They liked it.
— Tex Wallace. — It sounds righ’, doesn’t it? said Mickah.
Jimmy was putting the needle down when he thought of something else.
— Oh yeah, he said. — We don’t have a name. — Anny ideas?
— Well, said Derek. — Yeh know the way they’re The Byrds an’ Bird is another name for a girl, righ’? —Couldn’t we be The Brassers?
It was a great name.
— Dublin country, said Jimmy. — That’s fuckin’ perfect. The Brassers. — We’re a Dublin country group.
— That’s an excellent name, Derek, said Outspan.
— Ah — I just thought of it, yeh know.
Jimmy put the needle back on its stand.
— Another thing I forgot to tell yis. — I was in touch with your man, Dave, from Eejit Records, remember? I asked him would he be interested in a country-punk version o’ Nigh’ Train, an’ he said he migh’ be.
— That’s brilliant, said Derek.
— Hang on, said Mickah.
— STARTIN’ OU’ IN MULLINGAR
MOVIN’ ON OU’ TO KINNEGAD —
Somethin’ like tha’?
— That’s very good, said Jimmy.
They laughed.
— That’s very good, alrigh’, said Outspan. — I like tha’. Fair play.
Jimmy had the needle ready.
— Righ’, lads, give us a month an’ this’ll be us.
He let the needle down.
— Deadly, said Derek.
* * *
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Roddy Doyle is a teacher, playwright, and screenwriter living in Dublin. The Commitments is his first novel.