Q&A: EOIN BUTLERtalks to Brendan Graham, songwriter, novelist and adopted Mayoman

Congratulations, first of all, on your recent US chart success.Thanks. I have 11 songs on six of the top-10 albums currently sitting on the Billboard world music chart. The albums are by the Chieftains, Celtic Woman, the Irish Tenors and some others. I had no idea they'd done so well until my publisher rang to tell me.

People with creative aspirations are often encouraged to have a proper job to fall back on. But you only did that once – then you devoted yourself full-time to your craft.That's right. I was 42 when the company I was working for went into liquidation. The liquidator came in and took the keys of my office, the keys of my car. Our five girls were all still in school and college, so it was pretty scary. Fortunately, Rock 'n' Roll Kidscame along in 1994. Two years later, I won the Eurovision again with The Voice. The die was cast. People like to knock that competition, but it was a source of income.

You had written songs before that?I had. I'd been tipping away at things in the evenings and at weekends. I had written When for Red Hurley, which was our Eurovision entry in 1976. But Ireland is a very small market. Even if you have any success here, it doesn't really register in terms of royalty streams.

Is that why you target the world music dollar?I don't really. A lot of my favourite songs are ones I've written for artists like Dervish, Sean Keane and the Scottish singer Alyth McCormack. But those would not have huge sales. That's just the reality of it.

You recently collaborated with the Chieftains and Ry Cooder on the 'San Patricio' album.Yes, Paddy Moloney invited me over to his house and asked me to get involved. He had all these pieces of paper with tunes written on them stacked on the table. He picked up the whistle and brought these little scraps of paper to life. He'd ask me "What do you think of this tune?" or "What do you think of that tune?" It was incredible.

The album tells the story of an Irish unit that defected to fight with the Mexicans in the Mexican-American War. That must have required a bit of research on your part?Well, it struck me that they were going to need a narrative to hold the whole thing together. So I did quite a bit of research into the San Patricios and came up with a spoken word piece called March to Battle (Across the Rio Grande)which Liam Neeson ended up narrating. I've had three historical novels published – the first was set during the famine – so I knew what I was doing.

Youre also associated with the 'Celtic' music movement, which has been criticised in some quarters for being unauthentic and ahistoric. I have some difficulty with that. Celtic music is a very wide barrow. There's a lot of stuff in our myths that's connected to the land, just as the Aborigines have the myth of the Dreamtime, of things being sung into life. When I'm writing in those areas, I'm trying to connect with those elements. I don't see any need to defend it. You say ahistoric, but what does that even mean?

Well, I suppose, that it peddles a version of Irish history that has little basis in fact in order to sell records to a credulous American market.Yeah, but it isn't about being faithful. A lot of those songs have to do with spirituality. The Voice, for example, came out of just an experience I had in the Dublin Mountains, when I felt something speaking to me.

So I did that song, and it was labelled Celtic. Some people say You Raise Me Upwas written for the American market. One commentator said it assumed a healing role after 9/11. But it was written before then, I didn't even know about that. You do your little songs behind the half door in Mayo and they find their way out.

I read that you like to sit on a rock above Maamtrasna to contemplate. You haven't considered using the famous murders there as subject matter? It might be a little saltier than 'You Raise Me Up'...No, but I did write a song called Crucán Na bPáiste which is about a burial place of unbaptised children in Maamtrasna.

Is Mayo home for you now?It is. It's great for writing. We're in the middle of nowhere.

I love coming to Dublin – or, as I say, up to Ireland – but I never seem to get anything creative done up here.

There are a lot of competing attractions, which is good, I like that. but there’s nothing to beat crossing the Ferry Bridge and knowing I’m back home again.