Kevin Rowland is a difficult man. Honestly, if you look at the history of Dexys Midnight Runners Too-Rye-Ay, you aren’t just looking at a tracklist of Celtic-soul stompers; you are looking at the byproduct of a man who once insisted his bandmates go on forced runs and banned them from drinking. It was 1982. The Birmingham music scene was shifting, and Rowland decided to blow up the "soul vision" of their debut album, Searching for the Young Soul Rebels, in favor of something that sounded like a whiskey-soaked wedding in the middle of a rainstorm.
It worked.
The album didn't just succeed; it redefined what "folk" could look like in a post-punk world. Most people hear the name Dexys and immediately think of dungarees and that one song everyone yells along to at 2:00 AM. But there’s a massive gap between the "one-hit wonder" narrative and the reality of what this record actually achieved.
The Sound of a Band Falling Apart (and Rebuilding)
By the time the sessions for Too-Rye-Ay began, the original lineup of Dexys Midnight Runners had essentially disintegrated. Rowland was a perfectionist. Some called him a tyrant. He wanted a very specific sound—a blend of Van Morrison's poetic soul and the traditional Irish music of his heritage. To get there, he recruited "The Emerald Express," a fiddle section that gave the album its distinctive, weeping, soaring backbone.
Helen O'Hara, Steve Brennan, and Roger MacDuff weren't just window dressing. They were the engine.
If you listen to the opening of the record, it’s a Statement of Intent. The "Celtic Soul Brothers" kicks off with a frantic, joyous energy that feels almost desperate. It’s a song about identity. It’s Rowland screaming that he’s found his people. The production by Clive Langer and Alan Winstanley—the same duo who helped Madness find their feet—captured a warmth that was completely at odds with the cold, synthesizer-heavy New Romantic movement happening elsewhere in the UK charts. While everyone else was buying a Roland TR-808, Dexys were buying violins and banjos.
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It was a massive risk.
Music critics at the time weren't sure what to make of the image change either. Gone were the New York dockworker beanies and leather coats. In their place were the famous "gypsy" looks: scruffy hair, heavy wool, and those iconic denim overalls. It looked authentic. It looked like they hadn't slept in a week. It was a calculated aesthetic move that made them look like a traveling commune rather than a pop band.
Addressing the "Come On Eileen" Elephant in the Room
We have to talk about it. You can't discuss Dexys Midnight Runners Too-Rye-Ay without dissecting the cultural behemoth that is "Come On Eileen."
It’s easy to dismiss it now because it’s been played at every wedding for forty years. But take a second and actually listen to the arrangement. The song is weird. It starts with a Celtic fiddle solo, moves into a blue-eyed soul verse, and then features a bridge that slows down to a crawl before accelerating into a chaotic, breathless finale. That "accelerando" section was a nightmare to record. Without a click track, the band had to feel the timing together. It shouldn't have been a hit. It was too long, too messy, and the lyrics were about dirty overalls and sexual frustration.
Yet, it hit Number 1 in both the UK and the US.
The irony is that "Come On Eileen" is so bright and loud that it often shadows the darker, more introspective moments on the album. Tracks like "Old" or "Until I Believe in My Soul" show a completely different side of Rowland’s songwriting. In "Until I Believe in My Soul," the song stretches out over nearly nine minutes in some versions, featuring a sprawling saxophone solo and a vocal performance that sounds like a man having a breakdown in a confession booth. It’s vulnerable. It’s raw. It’s the antithesis of a pop single.
The 2022 Remix: Fixing What Was Broken
For decades, Kevin Rowland was openly unhappy with how Too-Rye-Ay sounded. He felt the original 1982 mix was "thin" and didn't capture the power of the brass or the depth of the strings. In 2022, for the 40th anniversary, he finally got his wish.
He didn't just remaster it. He remixed the whole thing.
The "As It Should Have Sounded" edition is a revelation for fans who grew up with the muddy vinyl or the early, tinny CD transfers. In this version, the drums have more "thwack." The fiddles don't just sit in the background; they cut through your speakers. You can hear the influence of the "Big Music" sound—that grand, cinematic scope that bands like The Waterboys would later perfect.
Rowland’s vocals are also pushed forward. You can hear the cracks in his voice. You can hear the intake of breath. It makes the album feel less like a polished 80s product and more like a live performance happening in your living room.
The Misconceptions of the "One-Hit Wonder"
Calling Dexys a one-hit wonder is technically inaccurate in the UK, where they had plenty of success, but it’s a common label in the States. This label ignores the sheer influence of Too-Rye-Ay.
- The Folk Revival: Before The Pogues made Celtic punk a thing, Dexys were blending traditional structures with pop sensibilities.
- Fashion as Protest: Their refusal to wear the "uniform" of the 80s pop star influenced the later indie-folk movements.
- The Soul Influence: They were one of the few white bands of the era who truly understood the rhythmic nuances of Stax and Motown without it feeling like a parody.
The album is actually a concept record of sorts. It’s about the search for purity. Rowland was obsessed with the idea of being "real" in a fake world. That’s why the band looked so disheveled. They wanted to look like they worked for their music.
Why We Are Still Listening
There is a timelessness to Too-Rye-Ay that many of its contemporaries lack. If you put on a Duran Duran record from 1982, it sounds like 1982. If you put on Too-Rye-Ay, it sounds like it could have been recorded in 1920, 1982, or 2026.
The themes—disillusionment with adulthood, the yearning for a spiritual connection, the friction between Irish roots and English upbringing—don't have an expiration date.
Rowland’s lyrics on "Plan B" or "All in All (This One Last Wild Waltz)" are deeply personal. He’s wrestling with his own ego and his place in the world. It’s not just "party music." It’s a document of a man trying to find a version of himself that he can live with.
Interestingly, the album’s title itself—"Too-Rye-Ay"—is a reference to the nonsense syllables found in many Irish folk songs. It’s a nod to the past, a way of saying that some things can’t be expressed in plain English. Sometimes you just have to sing the sounds.
Essential Tracks to Revisit
If you only know the big hit, you’re missing the actual heart of the project.
- "The Celtic Soul Brothers": The perfect mission statement.
- "Liars A to E": A biting, aggressive track that shows the band’s punk roots haven't entirely disappeared.
- "Until I Believe in My Soul": The emotional center. It's long, it's weird, and it's beautiful.
- "Old": A cynical but catchy look at aging and the loss of youthful fire.
Making Use of the Dexys Legacy
If you want to truly appreciate what happened here, don't just stream it on your phone while you're doing the dishes. This is an album that demands attention.
Actionable Steps for the Modern Listener:
- Seek out the 2022 "As It Should Have Sounded" Remix. It’s available on most high-res streaming platforms. The difference in the low-end frequencies alone is worth the listen.
- Watch the live performances from 1982. Look for the "Bridge School Benefit" or their Top of the Pops appearances. Note the intensity. They aren't just miming; they are performing like their lives depend on it.
- Listen to the album in sequence. The flow of the tracks was carefully curated by Rowland. It moves from the high-energy "Plan B" toward the more meditative second half for a reason.
- Read Helen O'Hara's memoir, "What’s She Like." It provides an incredible, first-hand account of the pressure and the magic of the Too-Rye-Ay era. It dispels a lot of the myths about the band being a one-man show.
Dexys Midnight Runners were never meant to be a permanent fixture. They were a flash of lightning. Too-Rye-Ay remains their most vibrant, chaotic, and enduring spark. It’s an album that reminds us that music doesn't have to be perfect to be profound. Sometimes, it just needs to be honest.