Pure Gold: Memorable Conversations with Remarkable People. Eamon Carr on collating a lifetime’s worth of interviews for his wonderful new collection.
“Bloody hell, have ya not got enough f**kin’ interviews with me over there?”
The voice of Jack Charlton booms down the phone line. This isn’t a good start for someone who’s just been asked to conduct a weekly interview with famous people in the Evening Herald.
I’d been initially reluctant to accept the offer because I couldn’t see myself asking anyone personal questions. But that’s what journalists were expected to do and at school I’d wanted to be a journalist. After a career as a musician and music producer, I was enjoying writing a weekly music column, theatre and book reviews. This could take things to another level. I knew I wasn’t a proper pro, but I hoped I might learn on the job. Whatever. I’d have to get around Big Jack first.
Ireland hadn’t qualified for Italia 90 at this point, but the manager was a fascinating figure. On the phone, I was alarmed at his gruff, unenthusiastic response. This was my first lesson. Always be prepared. Luckily, I managed to wing it and he agreed to meet a few days later. Knowing that Jack could be volcanic, my reputation was on the line.
As I considered the format the editor had in mind, a Q&A style in which the interviewee needed to give readable answers to a list of interesting questions, I realised I’d have to do some prep. This was in an era before AI or search engines. Being a football supporter, I’d enough questions about the game and Jack’s background to carry me through. I made a conscious decision to not appear formal; make things seem relaxed. I aimed for striking up a conversation during which I’d pop off a lengthy series of questions. I got lucky. Jack was on form and seemed to enjoy setting the record straight on many topics.
Would he have liked to have played with George Best?
“I’d never have tolerated George in my team… George doesn’t like me and I don’t know ’im… George is totally undisciplined… In the years that he was fartin’ about he caused a great deal of embarrassment because the wives all got the impression that we all did the same as what George had done. And we didn’t.” After ninety minutes of Jack in full flow, my tape ran out. This was – as a friend would say years later – pure gold.
By the time I transcribed the tape and structured the piece, it was time to arrange and prepare for another interviewee for the following week. Next. The pressure was on.
Being a novice, I threw each tape into a cardboard box, in case an interviewee might dispute what had been said. Over the years, as I’d read an obituary or story about someone’s recent achievements, I’d often recall an interview we did and memories would surface.
It was when I’d been regaling friends over lunch with some daft anecdote or other that Síne Quinn of Merrion Press suggested I should collate some of the interviews in book form. That’s when I did a deep dive into boxes in the attic and came away astonished at what I discovered.
Fifteen Conversations

In the end, I selected fifteen conversations for the book, from Eartha Kitt to Coronation Street creator Tony Warren, but wound up including quotes and insights from a wide cast of other characters who had something pertinent to say. Occasionally, interviewees would remain resolutely on message, sticking with their sales spiel, and refusing to engage in a wider discourse. Oddly, I began to enjoy the challenge of coaxing them to loosen up. I’d been warned that politicians were the worst. But that didn’t stop me interviewing a wide range of elected representatives, from Bertie, Albert, John and Gerry to alien diplomats, Zig and Zag.
One person, not in the book, who impressed me was Monica Barnes. In 1992 the TD was Chairwoman of the Joint Committee on Women’s Rights. She eloquently stressed the point that “a lot of fundamental freedoms and liberties that should be the constitutional right of women had been taken away”. Things have improved somewhat but the struggle continues.
Also not in the book, but equally fascinating, was former news reporter Gerald Seymour who had a string of hit novels when we met in 1991. As we discussed the Gulf War, the author noted something that still seems relevant, “The only people who still believe in the good old-fashioned spy on the ground, as against a satellite, is the Israeli secret service…”
When I met Pat McCabe, his novel The Butcher Boy, about a tragic young country chap called Francie Brady, was shortlisted for the Booker Prize. As we chatted about the translation rights, Pat remarked, “They read the book on BBC, and it was dreadful. They read it in a Dublin accent.”
Artists, actors, musicians, playwrights, sports stars, entrepreneurs. While I interviewed people from all walks of life, generally, it was the writers who were the most perceptive. Quite often, it’s their observations that have stuck with me the most. In 1991 Joe O’Connor’s first novel, Cowboys and Indians, had been published. His quiet tones couldn’t disguise his anger at American foreign policy. “I was in Nicaragua when America turned on the economic pressure,” he said. “It was an absolutely disgraceful, shameful thing. They destroyed a democratic revolution because they disagreed with its politics… America doesn’t believe in independence.”
As that French bloke wrote over 175 years ago, “Plus ça change, plus c’est la même chose.”
About Pure Gold by Eamon Carr:

In the late 1980s Horslips lyricist and drummer Eamon Carr began his journalistic career by conducting interviews with an eclectic mix of famous people. Told in Carr’s immediate, entertaining style, Pure Gold is a portal to a time before practised TV chat show performances and the churn of social media sound bites, providing honest and sometimes introspective insights into the private lives of global stars and national treasures, such as Jack Charlton, Eartha Kitt, Shane MacGowan and Malcolm McLaren.
A natural raconteur, Carr soon discovered that people were eager to share their stories with him, from J.P. Donleavy’s accounts of his mercurial friendship with Brendan Behan to Brenda Fricker’s memories of delivering her acceptance speech when she became the first Irish woman ever to win an Oscar.
Almost cinematic in his descriptions, Carr’s conversations with this cast of luminaries are searingly honest, irreverent and profound, highlighting the humanity that unites us all. Pure Gold is a treasure trove of interviews that will remain with the reader long after the book is closed.
Order your copy of Pure Gold by Eamon Carr online here.
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