Julian Gough thought he saw Johnny Massacre in Berlin last night. Johnny was never one of the best buskers. He was the best. If you had to walk down Shop Street on a summer’s evening you’d want to give yourself an extra half an hour for your journey. Johnny would have brought the street to a standstill. I never caught up with him for that pint after he got back to Ireland from his travels. He was dead within a month of a quick chat in Easons. His funeral was one of the best day’s craic I ever had. The priest struggled to give a convincing eulogy as his inexperience with beds of nails showed. The congregation rippled with laughter and rippled with grief- we knew the enormous talent that had passed. His mother invited about a million of us to stay for dinner in the hotel afterwards. She wouldn’t … There’s more →