There was no music in my family background, although my mum and dad could sing beautifully.
My mother came from the de Burgh side of the family. I assumed de Burgh for my stage name; Davison is my family name, from my dad. The family were made up of admirals and bishops and generals, and the idea of going into showbusiness was just really not quite our thing.
But the idea of music came from one place only: from my grandfather wanting to get my mother and father home from Congo when it was very dangerous for white people. My grandfather saw Bargy Castle, Tomhaggard, near Rosslare [Co Wexford] for sale in The Irish Times, and bought it with 170 acres of land.
I was 12 years old and so excited. There was no heat, no light, no furniture and no running water. We had to go to the basement and pump for 20 minutes to get a bucket of water. We slept in our clothes because it was cold. It wasn’t exactly growing up with a silver spoon in our mouths, but it was very exciting for a young lad, and my elder brother, Richard.
During the summer we opened it as a family hotel and it was there that I learned to entertain guests. There was no TV. In the evenings, people would come into the bar, or the sittingroom, or indeed the banqueting hall. It was in the times of The Beatles, and I managed to acquire a guitar and entertain the guests.
I taught myself to play the guitar and I figured out the piano. Just stick to the white notes and if you keep your fingers two apart, you'll always be in the key of C all the way up
By the time I stood on a professional stage, I must have done hundreds of livingroom concerts. Performing in front of 120,000 people is a lot easier than in front of 12 people.
At one point we were living in Naas, a beautiful house near St David’s Church, which is still in the centre of the town. And I remember going in there and listening to this sublime music. Very melodic. It had a big impact on me.
I couldn’t understand how something you can’t touch can emotionally move you. And that’s what music does. I read recently that when you listen to music and you can anticipate the next phrase or note, you get a tiny hit of dopamine.
I taught myself to play the guitar and I figured out the piano. Just stick to the white notes and if you keep your fingers two apart, you’ll always be in the key of C all the way up.
Later I sang at the request of a friend, Mark Kavanagh, who opened a burger place, Captain America’s Cookhouse, at the top of Grafton Street. I’d go there four nights a week and lean over one little microphone with my guitar and sing songs. The only one that used to get people to put down their knives and forks and clap along was American Pie.
When restaurants open again for singers or performers, have pity because it’s not a nice job.
Lady in Red is still a monster record. In America it's huge. They haven't a clue who Chris de Burgh is but it's been on all the major television shows, in movies and everything
In the early days, [touring] with Supertramp, I was that annoying fella who started the show. At eight o’clock, if there weren’t enough people in the concert hall, I’d hide in a bathroom or something for 10 minutes waiting for more people to come in.
Sometimes there would be somebody to introduce me but one night – I think it was Plymouth or Portsmouth – there wasn’t, and I said, “I know what I’m going to do.”
The house lights went down, I walked out and said: “Ladies and gentlemen, I would like to introduce you to one of the finest young talents emerging for a very long time. Would you please put your hands together and give a warm introduction and applause for Chris de Burgh.”
I walked off the stage, picked up my guitar and walked out again. And immediately I had them right in the palm of my hand.
Lady in Red is still a monster record. In America it’s huge. They haven’t a clue who Chris de Burgh is but it’s been on all the major television shows, in movies and everything.
Which of my gigs would I like to relive? In Turkey there’s a place called Ephesus, which is an arena built in 300 BC. I performed there to 20,000 people under the stars on the same stage that St Paul would have preached to the Ephesians about not worshipping the graven image of Diana. And as the stars lit the sky, with the village of Ephesus below it, the moment was spine-tingling.
In this pandemic I’ve had to cancel so many tours, so many concerts, Beirut and Dubai, all over Europe. Music seems to have been shuffled right down to the bottom of the pile. I’m very sorry for the hoteliers and the hospitality industry, but if we didn’t have entertainment and music, people would really notice.
The last time I stood on the stage was 572 days ago. Now, I’m not the only one, obviously there’s thousands of people in this country who are very gifted and just can’t get out there.
We’ll be playing in Germany in November. I’ve actually got a show in July in Mallorca. It’ll be a tour and then we’ll be going to Canada next year and back to the UK in the autumn of next year, plus Irish dates. And lots of other stuff.
This is an edited extract from Chris de Burgh’s interview with Paul Howard at the Irish Times Summer Nights Festival on July 29th
