When anyone in the Irish media writes about anything else in the Irish media, it’s impossible to present yourself as completely dispassionate. The industry is too small. Invariably, you know some of the people involved; or know people who know them. You may have heard gossip about them. You may have worked with some of them, may have had rows with them or snogged them on a night out 10 years ago.
I’m no different. Herself was the senior producer on the recently demised Drive It with the 2 Johnnies on 2FM. But I’m not here to share my opinion on the specifics of that.
Like any industry, people in the media tend to come from the same gene pool. They do a media degree. They might work for a spell in a local newspaper or radio station and then end up in Dublin. And while they can originate from any part of the country, they tend to be middle class. There is – like any industry – a degree of cultural homogenisation.
The 2 Johnnies came from outside that system. With no qualifications or training, they established a local business that quickly achieved a national and international reach. Yet when they arrived on 2FM, and almost immediately got in trouble, a lot of the commentary was of the I’ve-never-heard-of-them variety: if they weren’t on the cultural radar of the commentariat, they must be irrelevant.
Television infidelity is apparently a real thing and can be a major cause of door slamming
Daughter Number Four has been sucked into the slimosphere. We naively enabled it
At Newstalk, Ciara Kelly gets righteously annoyed
I’ve rearranged our books based on colour and height. Apparently this is controversial
But what that really revealed was the cultural gulf that still exists in this country. The 2 Johnnies podcast routinely hits No 1 in Ireland and the UK, as have their books and singles. They can sell out the 3Arena in a matter of minutes. They tour around the world. And I’m telling you this not just to demonstrate how successful they are, but how a large swathe of the country, both here and abroad, look at the 2 Johnnies and see themselves.
Because of the aforementioned connection, I’ve been to one of their 3Arena gigs, and the atmosphere was one of celebration: for the audience as much as the performers. This was their life, being reflected back to them; and being done in the heart of the indifferent capital city. It almost didn’t matter what the 2 Johnnies said or did that night: it was what they represented.
I’ve noticed a bit of a shift of attitude towards the 2 Johnnies within media circles: from I’ve-never-heard-of-them to I-don’t-get-it. It’s a tacit acknowledgment of their success
Most Irish people now live in urban areas, but that doesn’t mean there isn’t still an urban-rural split; or more precisely, a city-town split. The 2 Johnnies are an archetype: the lads from the Town. They’ll live and die in that town, a place where GAA and family are of paramount importance, where everyone knows everyone, where there are a host of characters who let themselves be gently teased while teasing themselves. It’s a place where the concept of craic has its fullest and most subtle expression.
Their 2FM show was an aural representation of life in the Town, with the Parish Quiz and their mammies calling in and a host of real people who would regularly contribute. On their last show, they played out voice notes from many of them, in which there was a notable theme: it was great to hear culchies on the radio; a sentiment that underlined just how rare that is, not just in the media but in pretty much all aspects of our public life.
Over the past two years, I’ve noticed a bit of a shift of attitude towards the 2 Johnnies within media circles: from I’ve-never-heard-of-them to I-don’t-get-it. It’s a tacit acknowledgment of their success, along with an unconscious admission that there’s a large portion of Irish life that other Irish people simply don’t understand.
Ireland is now a multicultural country: which gives us all a valuable opportunity to learn about other people and how they live in the world. But it’s worth remembering that some of those other people don’t come from abroad. They come from down the road.