‘Dungiggin’ is a raunchy retreat for former groupies and roadies from the halcyon days of rock’n’roll, when pop was crude, rude, a wild adventure, the beat of the street and the voice of youth. Neither get pensions or royalties and they often live out their declining years in infirmity, isolation and poverty.


Both were attitude adjusters and enablers, without either, rock groups would fail to function and both know the true nature of the ‘Rock Gods’ that fascinate the great unwashed. The sordid sexual excess, drug habits, hopes, fears and foibles of the monsters of pop are known to their personal entourage and their loyalty is in trust.

Everybody has skeletons in the cupboard, few more so than the egotistical and hedonistic rock stars who lived in the fast lane of access and excess. By hook and mostly crook, ‘Rock Sturdy’ has stayed top of the pops, but his fragile grip on reality, self-doubt and insecurity are increasingly tormenting him. Once the self-proclaimed spokesman for youth and counter culture, he is now ambitious to come in out of the cold and join the establishment, securing status. But he must ensure that potential sleazy and squalid scandals remain sealed in stone.

Having a propensity for generating an argument in an empty room, Rock has created many bitter enemies in a conniving and callous career and found few friends.

An opportunity to achieve both is suggested by his personal roadie ‘SHADOW’.

a)   Gathering the ‘boys and girls’ in a single and remote place on the West coast of Eire, that Rock finances, inhibits kiss and tell shockers.

b)   With creative accountancy, Dungiggin has good potential tax advantages.

c)   A good spin doctor can show that Rock’s charitable foundation evidences his altruistic nature, deserving a state honour.

So those that didn’t die before they got old rave to the grave hard nose to the highway with white line fever and dog in the old life yet in search of the mighty craic. Donleavey and Sharpe collide with Spinal Tap in creative and cultural chaos in connived counter-culture. A ripsnorter of a read to bemuse and befuddle beyond the basics, but with a degree of belief suspension and amusing entertainment. Once in your life you knew such characters, although with experience and maturity you might have learnt to keep such rapscallions and rogues at arm’s length. But if you still yearn to learn the nature and nurture of their daily capers and connundrums then read on and be banjaxed.