In case his name, look, beard, and accent didn’t give it away, Shane Hayes is every bit An Irishman. He’s also the accordion player his band Socks in the Frying Pan, which play mostly their arrangements of mostly instrumental traditional Irish music.
So, why the hell is he now living in Florence, Italy? It’s where he Zooms in on video to talk about the band’s upcoming U.S. tour, which opens at Dosey Doe on February 29. Should he have his Paddy Passport revoked?
“Well, as the story goes, I followed a woman out here. Sort of!” he laughs. It turns out that Hayes’ uncle owns a place in the city. And while Hayes usually spent his summers touring the U.S., with the throws of COVID still in effect in 2021, the band couldn’t get travel visas. So, uncle invited nephew to spend the month of August living in “The Jewel of the Renaissance.”
That’s where he met and began a romance with…a Dutch girl.
“We both kind of agreed ‘Well, this isn’t going nowhere’ because I live in Ireland and she lives here. She said ‘I’m not moving’ and I said ‘Well, I’m not moving,’” Hayes recalls. “So we compromised. And I moved. And we [married]. I definitely understand the concept of happy wife, happy life!”
But there’s another matter of domestic concern on Hayes’ mind, and that’s bringing a bit of his culture to Italy.
“Today is Pancake Tuesday in Ireland, the day before Lent. I’m here in Florence trying to get the right flour to make them. But my Italian isn’t perfect yet, so I bought fucking yeast instead of baking soda!” he says. “They’re edible, but I could wake up with a barf stomach tomorrow!”
Socks in the Frying Pan consists of Hayes on accordion, brother Fiachra Hayes on fiddle, and Aodán Coyne on guitar and lead vocals. Though for the past two years while Fiachra has traveled the world with his girlfriend, Ian King has filled in on live dates, including the upcoming Houston show.
“Ian is from the Westernmost part of Ireland. Chicago!” Shane laughs. “And my brother gets around. He just called me the other day. He was in India in front of the Taj Mahal!”
The band from Ennis, County Clare’s Superhero Origin Story begins in 2008. Shane has just finished college and was working (where else?) in a bar. A scheduled band cancelled their gig, so the owner—who knew Shane played a bit—asked if he might get some people together to fill in.
“I called everybody on my list. People I wanted to play with. People I didn’t want to play with. Then I was so desperate I was calling anyone who could even play music!” he recalls, before taking the chance to needle a bandmate. “At the very bottom of the list was this guitarist who kind of played Irish music. And I mean the bottom. And that was Aodán.”
With Fiachra completing the trio, the group went pro. To date, they’ve played all over the world at gigs and festivals, which have also brought them to stages in 48 U.S. states. They’re self-titled debut album came out in 2012, followed by Return of the Giant Sock Monsters from Outer Space, Without a Paddle, and 2019’s live effort Raw & Ríl.
In most live videos of the band, Shane is positioned center, sitting down between two strumming maniacs. So, the question must be asked: Is this because he is in fact the laziest member of the band?
“No, it’s because I’m the most talented!” he offers. “Once you reach a certain level of talent, you’re allowed to sit down. But I’ve started to stand up a bit. The accordion is a much more complicated instrument to play than a guitar or fiddle. And it’s much more delicate.”
Sticking on the accordion theme, does this mean his heroes are fellow box squeezers of either button-or-key variety like James Fearnley (Pogues), Paddy Moloney (Chieftains), Séamus Begley, James Keane, either of the Yankovics (Frankie or “Weird” Al) or even Myron Floren of the Lawrence Welk Orchestra?
“It’s actually Freddie Mercury!” Hayes laughs. “But he’s probably never even been in the same room as an accordion!”
Asked about the differences between U.S. and Irish audiences, he said they are huge.
“I actually prefer playing the U.S. over Ireland. In the U.S., people buy tickets when they go on sale. In Ireland it’s like ‘We’ll find out the night of the show if we can get a ticket,’” he says. “And in the U.S., when the venue isn’t full, they will all come to the front. In Ireland, they’ll stay in the back. It’s like the Rectangle of Death out there.”
Asked what misconceptions irk him the most when people think of Irish music, Hayes instead targets broader Irish culture.
“There’s a lot of misconceptions. But sometimes it’s easier to play into that!” he laughs. “The first is that Plastic Paddy, the leprechaun. They’re not even in Ireland! But my favorite is the phrase ‘Top of the Morning.’ No one says that in Ireland. A total of zero. No Irish person in the history of Ireland has said that. That comes from the [1959 fantasy movie] Darby O’Gill and the Little People.”
He’s much happier talking about bands from Ireland, among them Thin Lizzy (“They’re bad ass…so much good stuff!”) and the Pogues, the latter of which also carries some misconceptions.
“The first album came out and it was all about ‘Let’s drink 50 pints of whiskey!’ Then on the second album was the most amazing stuff,” he says. “But people forget that [vocalist and songwriter] Shane MacGowan won an English scholarship to Oxford University. He’s a genius.”
Hayes adds that he “got goosebumps” watching the livestream of the recently deceased MacGowan’s funeral service, at the end of which most of the surviving classic lineup bandmembers played “The Parting Glass.”
The Pogues took their name from the Irish phrase “Pogue Mahone.” Or more accurately, “póg mo thóin,” which roughly translates into “kiss my ass.” A perfect lead-in to ask Hayes: Where on earth did they get “Socks in the Frying Pan” from?
“I’ll tell you a story about that, Bob. My microphone might be a little dodgy. But you’re the first person I’m ever going to tell this to,” Hayes says. He then launches into a well-rehearsed comedy bit where he talks but cuts out every third word or so, simulating a microphone on the fritz. The only distinct phrases are “pints of beer,” “three Pogues, not two Pogues” and “polar bear.”
Finally, when Hayes is informed that the band’s gig comes smack dab in the weeks of the Houston Livestock Show and Rodeo, it amps up his desire to set foot in the Lone Star State. And maybe even take in something near NRG Stadium.
“I can’t wait to get to Texas! I want to get cowboys boots, a hat, the whole thing!” he says. “We went to a rodeo in Wyoming and want to go to another one. Just so we can say over and over ‘This isn’t our first rodeo!’”
Socks in the Frying Pan play at 8:30 p.m. on Thursday, February 29, at the Dosey Doe Big Barn, 25911 I-45 N. For more information, call 281-367-3774 or visit DoseyDoeTickets.com. Doors and kitchen open 6:30 p.m. $25-$30.
For more on Socks in the Frying Pan, visit SocksintheFryingPan.com
This article appears in Jan 1 – Dec 31, 2024.
