First trailer for Kurt Cobain documentary Montage of Heck
By PATRICK FAGAN
DID you cut the word âNirvanaâ into a pair of jeans and attend school on non-uniform day wearing these jeans and an Oxfam cardigan ... whilst also boasting an imperceptible hint of purple marker in your hair? Oh, you did?! Well, er, that makes two of us. And it looks like weâll both be hitting the cinema (possibly dressed in the same outfit) when the Kurt Cobain biopic gets released here in early April.
The filmâs director, Brett Morgan, revealed last week that Montage Of Heck (named after an old Kurt mixtape) will feature âa mind-blowing 12-minute acoustic Cobain unheard trackâ.
Probably worth the admission for that alone...if youâre one of the two of us.
In the meantime, weâll just have to sate that grunge lust with this trailer featuring snippets of chats with Nirvana bassist Krist Novoselic, Kurtâs mom Wendy and his sister Kim.
Richie Egan: They get the Jape 'aesthetic'. I can't even draw a fucking cat!
By DAVE DONNELLY
HE'S found unlikely acclaim after being covered by Jack Whiteand Brendan Benson, and having written the most touching tribute to fellow Crumlin man Phil Lynott, but for Richie Egan, a.k.a Jape, itâs still very much the personal touch that counts.
A few weeks back, Egan released his fifth album under the Jape moniker â most of which have been more or less solo efforts â and in This Chemical Sea he feels he has a record that fully represents who he is and represents the quality he feels all of the great albums have.
Home for a few days from his current base in Malmo, Sweden â against which the nippy Dublin winter is no shock â Egan speaks excitedly about a record he believes has the power to touch just about anybody who hears it.
He says: âDo you ever get the feeling where you just know something, but you canât express it in words? You just feel like you know something, in your soul. With this album, those songs to me, feel like the truth. They feel like shit that I have said that is true, and I hope that people get that feeling.â
In contrast to the way the industry in general is going â where music is increasingly consumed passively, and intangibly, through Spotify and Soundcloud â he is wedded to the idea that a record should be more than just an audio product.
This Chemical Sea was launched with a beautiful video produced by Conor Finnegan, while the vivid and fitting artwork was created by long-term collaborators M&E, a nod to his belief that a record isnât just a matter of recording some music and throwing it out there â itâs a holistic work that requires care and attention at every stage of the process.
Egan, who plays a sold out show in Dublin's Academy tomorrow night (April 19), says: âM&E have done all the artwork for all the Jape records, and coincidentally they used to live in Dublin but they live in Malmo now, weirdly enough, and Iâve got a great relationship with them. I think the visual aspect of a record is very important.
âI know those guys so well, and they nailed the Jape âaestheticâ really well. It was great working with them. They can do shit⌠I canât even draw a fucking cat. I can go to them, âit would be cool if you did thisâ and they can come up with something thatâs mind-blowing.
âI think you make people feel a certain way when they listen to your music, and I think, aesthetically, when you look at an album cover, you can name off your favourite band and when you see their album cover itâs going to make you feel a certain way.
âWith the Jape stuff, itâs important for me that the aesthetic of the album jumps out a bit and makes people feel a certain way. I think that M&E are the perfect partner in crime for that job.
âItâs important to put the heart and soul into everything you do, every element. Thatâs why I like somebody like Johnny Jewel from the Chromatics â Johnny Jewel puts everything into every element, from the covers, the music, the songs, everything. That heart and soul and love comes across, and it will hit the right ears eventually.â
Eganâs former band, Redneck Manifesto, blazed a trail for instrumental rock bands in Ireland which has indirectly led to the success of a host of indigenous acts including Adebisi Shank, Enemies and, most successful of all, Portrushâs And So I Watch You From Afar.
While the legacy of Redneck Manifesto might suggest that Egan happened to arrive in the right place at the wrong time, his subsequent career as the brains behind Jape has been an unqualified success â heâs the only artist to win the Choice Music Prize twice and part of a select club of electronically-inclined Irish musicians to make a good living from his work.
Nevertheless, Jape is by necessity a malleable concept â what started out as a glorified solo project morphed into a proper band before, again by necessity, becoming his own personal project. This Chemical Sea was made primarily in Sweden, with long-term collaborator Glen Keating providing a creative buffer.
Egan stresses that living outside of Ireland hasnât affected his creative process in any meaningful way â âIâm a songwriter so wherever I live Iâll do the same thing" â and that he draws his creative inspiration from his life and his innermost thoughts rather than any external influences.
He says: âThe lyrics I was all trying to get from the subconscious, rather than sitting down and saying âIâm going to write a song about XYZ.â I relaxed my brain and let whatever came come, and then deal with it afterwards.â
Eganâs inherent inquisitiveness leads him to muse on a range of subjects, however, and thereâs a scientific and philosophical bent to much of the album â a theme betrayed by the albumâs title â and one idea that pops up continually is that of personal and environmental integrity.
âThe important thing for me was that the record, overall, when I looked at the songs, pollution is the big thing. Whether itâs pollution of the environment or the way we pollute out bodies to try and feel alive in different ways with different chemicals.
âThat seems to be the theme that made sense for me, and itâs why I called the album This Chemical Sea.â
High-minded though his concepts may be, Egan ultimately feels heâs inspired by the same experiences as anybody else in any walk of life â the day to day experiences that make up our lives.
âIâd be influenced by living my life, as you would as well. I donât necessarily be influenced by one particular medium â I could be influenced by going to the kebab shop and buying falafel, just as I would by having a chat with you.
âLife is an interesting thing. If youâre aware of it, youâre going to be influenced by it in some ways. Itâs good to be alive, because weâre going to be dead some day so you can take influence from everything. If you only take influence from music, youâre limiting yourself, a lot.â
This Chemical Sea was released on January 23. Jape plays The Academy in Dublin on February 19Â (sold out), RĂłisĂn Dubh in Limerick on the 20th, Limerickâs Kasbah Social Club on the 21st and Corkâs Cyprus Avenue on the 22nd.
The Afghan Whigs, live in The Academy, Dublin. February 2, 2015
By PATRICK FAGAN
âNOW Iâve got time for you, and you, and you, and youâŚâ
Greg Dulli sings a line from Gentlemen, while prowling the stage from left to right, playfully pointing out women in the crowd each time he sings âyouâ.
Then his gaze falls on a surprised male fan: âAnd you ⌠can watch!â
Itâs a stand-out moment of showmanship in a gig full of highlights.
Up to this point, the Ohio man has crooned and screamed - with the occasional accompaniment of a booming front-of-stage floor tom - through a setlist mostly gleamed from last yearâs Do To The Beast and 1993âs classic Gentlemen.
Itâs the start of the tour, and he tells us âthis is the first show, weâre a little rustyâ but I canât recall a more polished and energetic performance by him.
Tonightâs set opened with the pounding Parked Outside, followed by the jagged precision of Matamoros, which segued into the purgatorial swagger of Fountain And Fairfax.
No time to breathe between the three openers: bam, bam, bam; the Whigs announced their return with devilish intent and energy.
They poured out transcendent anthems of love and addiction, and Dublinâs fateful joyously imbibed their tainted beauty.
Next up were the current single, The Lottery, and the closest they ever came to a hit, Debonair, before they dabbled with a few bars of The Animals.
Smiling, Dulli baritoned: âThere is a house in New Orleans, they call the Rising SunâŚâ before interrupting himself, âNo thereâs not, by the way⌠itâs just a thing they tell tourists on bus tours.â
This skit led into Algiers, before powerful performances of the first and only song from Congregation, Turn On The Water, and the epic Royal Cream.
And so, by the time we reach the âand youâs of Gentlemen, the audience is energised, alive and peaking.
In this dramatic, ferocious version of their old single, Dulli whips the audience into a frenzy as he slides his guitar to the side and leans towards the heaving masses like an amphetamine-fuelled TV evangelist.
He is both revelling in and admonishing the primal lust he is spewing forth. Itâs intense, and itâs brilliant.
And it feels eerily exciting to watch a man inhabit his own self from 20 years agoâŚbut with a seemingly stronger life force than he had back then.
There will be more stand-out moments to follow before the night is out - including a cover of Jeff Buckleyâs Morning Theft, and a joyous finale of Faded mixed with Bobby Womackâs Across 110th Street - but itâs Gentlemen that edges the rest.
A smiling 49-year-old reformed libertine happily kicking the shit out of his 20s and 30s self through the medium of indie rock?
Well, you donât get to see that every night.
Set list: Parked Outside, Matamoros, Fountain & Fairfax, The Lottery, When We Two Parted, Debonair, House Of The Rising Sun (The Animals, skit), Algiers, Turn On The Water, Royal Cream, Gentlemen, Morning Theft (Jeff Buckley), My Enemy, Son Of The South, Roadhouse Blues (The Doors, few bars), Lost In The Woods. Encore: Summerâs Kiss, Teenage Wristband (Twilight Singers), Somethinâ Hot, Faded/Across 110th Street
Greg Dulli: I was not shy about sharing my pain - in a sometimes absolutely inelegant way
By PATRICK FAGAN
GREG Dulli is bringing a "monster" six-piece Afghan Whigs to Ireland on Monday.
But asked if the beast inside himself is calmer than in his volatile 20s and 30s, he laughs: "I fucking hope so."
The Whigs' final Irish show before their 2001 split threatened to explode into violence when a punter heckled the Ohio-born frontman.Â
The offensive comment, delivered during a short re-tuning break in a storming set at Dublin's Mean Fiddler in 1999, wasn't memorable...unlike his target's response.
Dulli told his inebriated detractor he'd take his "girlfriend backstage and fuck her" if he didn't shut up. Almost sixteen years later, the Cincinnati man is a much more contrite and reflective man.Â
Bristling at the memory, he says: "I'm telling you man, on that tour, it sounds like somebody who's on a bunch of drugs...
"I'll put it to you this way, if someone heckled me, and that was the best I could come up with now, I would be sad."
Five years later, Greg was back in Dublin playing with his new band, The Twilight Singers, and had already mellowed significantly.
The best of the hi-jinks in Whelan's that night involved him trying to slip his hotel key into a girl's back pocket...from the stage. It seemed leaving the Whigs had made life more bearable.
He explains: "How can I say this, I had anger issues in my early days, and I self medicated, and I was not shy about sharing my pain in whatever way...sometimes in a poignant way, sometimes in an absolutely inelegant way that served no-one.
"So, those are things you learn about. Time goes on and, hopefully, you mature somewhat so you can actually be taken around in public without lashing out."
However, some of this anger - and a fair bit of love and heartache - did fuel one of the mid-Nineties' hidden musical gems, the Whigs' third release, and first on a major, Gentlemen.
The album was sandwiched between another two, Congregation and Black Love, that shared the theme of desperate longing and loss.
Dulli says: "Love is a part of many people's continuing journey. Gentlemen and Black Love, Congregation before that, those three records were written during stormy times in my life.
"I was chronicling what was happening to me in real-time. When those things happen or don't happen, you can't predict them. I'm certainly not going to write about something that I'm not feeling or experiencing.
"Most likely, those things will never happen again, and they exist in that time. In a lot of ways I can go back through my records and they're like photographs...I can remember the me that existed in that time.
"Certainly, Gentlemen, in particular, was a crazy time in my life. But I still enjoy singing those songs today, so there's a peacefulness in that too."
Following the Whigs' break-up, Dulli toured and recorded five albums with the Twilight Singers, and one album with former Screaming Trees frontman Mark Lanegan, under the name The Gutter Twins.
Then, in 2012, the old band reunited for a string of shows that garnered rave reviews. The expanded Whigs line-up featured original bassist John Curley and lead guitarist Rick McCollum, the latter of whom fell out of the picture before the recording of their stomping 2014 comeback album, Do To The Beast.
Dulli smiles as he admits he relishes playing as a six-piece - minus Rick, far left of the photo above.
He says: "I love it, it's a monster of a band. There's many gears to the band, it's got a great dynamic. It switches gears with ease. All of the players are monstrously talented."
But asked if there is any way back for Rick, Dulli gets suddenly solemn.
He says: "I miss playing with a version of Rick that existed a long time ago. Honestly, I missed playing with that guy on the reunion tour in 2012, because he was not there either.
"That's really all I gotta say about it. Rick is not who he used to be, and I don't think we'll ever see that person again."
Dulli lights up again, however, when talking about the upcoming tour, which kicks off in Dublin's Academy on Monday night.
"I am so looking forward to it. We rehearsed last week and it sounds amazing, and I'm so excited to play."
And there's still plenty of that cheeky swagger about him, even if the anger is gone.
It's put to him that former Red House Painters singer, and current Sun Kil Moon man, Mark Kozelek has been bemoaning the fact there's no "hot chicks" but plenty of "guys in anoraks" at his own shows nowadays.
Greg laughs again: "I love Mark Kozelek, he's great. Women (still) show up (at our shows), that's all I know. Although, years ago, the Gutter Twins were playing in Belfast, and I looked out there, and I was like, 'Where are the chicks?'
"That was the only night I remember thinking, there won't be a line at the ladies' room tonight. But we do all right with the ladies."
The Afghan Whigs play The Academy in Dublin this coming Monday, February 2. Their comeback album, Do To The Beast, and 21st anniversary version of Gentlemen are both out now.
IT may only be celebrating its tenth anniversary, but the Choice Music Prize has long since become one of the most interesting fixtures on the Irish music calendar.
The announcement of the shortlist for Irish album of the year is always the source of much discussion â and not just because it happens to fall right at the beginning of January when thereâs literally nothing else musical going in the country bar the collective groan of the countryâs remaining workforce as they slowly trudge back to work nursing their damaged bank accounts.
Invariably, the list â which is compiled by a panel of 12 judges from the music media â is criticised for being too conservative or too mainstream, ignoring the fact that any sort of consensus list will favour artists with more mass appeal and popularity, however the presence of established artists like U2, Damien Rice and Sinead OâConnor do back up this view somewhat.
The most controversial aspect of the shortlist might, funnily enough, be its most leftfield selection: not only does electronic genius Aphex Twin stick out like a sore thumb musically, thereâs the small matter of him possibly not even being Irish at all, as the only source for his alleged place of birth is a suspicious Wikipedia entry from 2005. Syrley some mistake has been made?
Aphex Twin â Syro
The man whose Wikipedia bio claims he was born in Limerick has had a busy 13 years or so, doing just about anything except release an album as Aphex Twin. Itâs an itch the man christened Richard D James (possibly in Limerick) clearly hasnât felt the need to scratch until now, and for all intents and purposes itâs as if nothing has changed. Lead single âminipops 67 [120.2]â is a glitchy, â80s-inspired techno jam that could as easily have appeared on his last Aphex Twin record, 2001âs Drukqs, and Syro continues solidly in the same vein.
 Delorentos - Night Becomes Light
It seems obligatory, when discussing Delorentos, that the North Dublin band decided to jack the music game in entirely in 2009, shortly before the release of their second album, only to change their minds when they realised they actually enjoy music after all. Itâs just as well that they did, as theyâve moved from success to success ever since, and Night Becomes Light is exactly what weâve come to expect from Delorentos: clever and concise pop songs, beautifully produced and performed, and tracks like âHomeâ that seem tailor-made to be sung as the sun sets on a summer festival.
 The Gloaming - The Gloaming
Somehow the word âsupergroupâ just doesnât do it justice â the Gloaming are a revelation as much as anything. The quintet comprising Irishmen Martin Hayes, CaomhĂn Ă Raghallaigh and Iarla Ă Lionaird, as well as Americans Dennis Cahill and Doveman, have almost single-handedly introduced a new generation to traditional Irish music. More than that, theyâve done it in a way that challenges even the most demanding musical mind with elements of jazz, classical and minimalism alongside the jigs and reels of old.
 Hozier â Hozier
After the year heâs had, Brayâs Andrew Hozier-Byrne was close to a certainty to make the shortlist having won or been nominated for just about every other prize the music industry has to offer for his haunting alternative love song, âTake Me To Church.â While that song is a phenomenon in itself â the most unlikely of worldwide hits â Hozierâs self-titled debut album is proof itâs no fluke. Taken as a whole, itâs a more upbeat and soulful collection of songs than the rather sombre single, and there is a hint of Van Morrison in the Celtic soul of âSomebody Newâ and âFrom Eden.â
 James Vincent McMorrow â Post-Tropical
If ever an album title could tell you so much and yet so little about the contents of a record, itâs Post-Tropical. January albums often get lost in the mix when it comes to annual awards and the like, and itâs testament to the strength of the Dublinerâs second studio record that it stayed in the memory long enough to make the cut this year. The album was recorded in solitude on the Mexican-American border, and being cut off from the world allowed him to perfect the electronic and hip hop influences that a lack of technology meant heâd been unable to incorporate on his first record, and the result is a thoroughly modern and forward-thinking r&b album.
Sinead OâConnor - Iâm Not Bossy, Iâm The Boss
The Irish Sunâs choice for album of the year in 2014 is the engine thatâs driven one of the most prosperous years OâConnor has had in decades. A string of sold-out dates across Ireland and Europe followed on from her first appearance at #1 since 1991, and for the first time in a long time sheâs attracting widespread attention for her music rather than her viewpoints. Iâm Not Bossy, Iâm The Boss is a light and playful pop record â sung in the character of a woman coming to realise that romance isnât always all itâs cracked up to be â and one that measures up to all but her untouchable debut, The Lion and the Cobra.
 Damien Rice â My Favourite Faded Fantasy
Of all the criticisms that could be levelled against Damien Rice, the one that would never stick would be that he rushes things â it takes an awful lot of time to sound this perpetually startled. In fairness to him, inspiration doesnât work to strict timelines, and thereâs a fair amount of it on display through My Favourite Faded Fantasy, his first album in eight years. With the exception of the odd bit of electronic percussion, thereâs nothing that will surprise fans of his, but Rice retains a peerless feel for the dynamic of a song and how to stretch an idea to its limit.
 The Riptide Movement - Getting Through
If you donât know the Riptide Movement but you have a television, then you know the Riptide Movement, as theirs is the jangly sound behind âAll Works Out,â the REM-inspired soundtrack to the Discover Ireland ad campaign that was ubiquitous on Irish TV throughout 2014. The West Dublin four-piece earned their stripes busking on Grafton Street in the capital before they were able to devote themselves to their own music, and the influence of those years is clear on Getting Through as each song, while simple, is infectiously hooky and cleverly-arranged.
 U2 - Songs of Innocence
There is only one thing that anybody needs to know about Songs of Innocence. And that thing is that, on Songs of Innocence, U2 sample the Angelus. Four middle-aged men â whose job is to make albums â spent the guts of three years working on this record and came out sampling the Angelus before launching into a cack-handed Beach Boys tribute while Bono sings about how California cries like a baby. Four men, three years, millions of dollars⌠the Angelus.
 We Cut Corners - Think Nothing
The title of Dublin duo We Cut Cornersâ second album probably reveals more about the bandâs development than was intended for, while itâs as clever and well-written as its predecessor, Today I Realised I Could Go Home Backwards, musically the duo rely far more on instinct. Whereas their first album was quiet almost to the point of meekness, Think Nothing is a brash and self-assured record filled with loud guitars, cacophonous drums and ambitious string arrangements. Itâs a sound that, surprisingly, suits them, and stand-out tracks like âBlueâ and âBest Friendâ show the benefits of backing oneâs instinct. Â
Royal Wood: Ireland helped me disappear and reset as an artist
By DAVE DONNELLY
WHEN his personal life was in tatters and having produced what he admits was the only âdisappointingâ record of his career, singer-songwriter Royal Wood did what any sane person would do â he went to live in Slane.
The Canadian had made some friends in the County Meath metropolis on previous visits to Ireland, and following the breakdown of his marriage in, it made sense to him to move to a remote spot outside the town and re-connect with himself as a person and as a writer.
He locked himself away without phone or internet â and his only way of getting into town was to walk the six miles â and it turned out to be just what Wood required to move on, personally and professionally, and it was there that he built the foundation of his seventh studio album, The Burning Bright.
Speaking to Something for the Weekend in a small pocket of time between checking out of his Dublin hotel and getting a taxi to Montrose to record a piece for the Late Late Show, Wood reflects proudly on what is his most refined and âmatureâ record to date.
âWhen I was going through my separation from my wife, I just wanted to disappear to a place where I felt like people didnât know me,â he says.
âI had friends outside Slane who set me up with a cottage in the middle of nowhere, no phone, no TV and no internet, just me. Itâs what I needed to reset and feel like an artist again and make sense of my life. It all just happened.
âOne foot in front of the other, I got a batch of songs and then I decided I wanted to demo them, so I started recording and then things just happened.â
Woodâs previous album, 2012âs We Were Born To Glory, was warmly received but the artist himself feels that he was trying too hard to make the record he was expected to make, rather than trusting his own instincts.
He says: âI think sometimes people, when they start, get lucky and mature because theyâre not in the way. Then you start going along and you start thinking too much and doing things you think youâre supposed to do and it gets a little muddy.
âI thought the last record was muddy. I personally fell victim to an industry that I was trying to succeed in, and I think I made a few choices I wouldnât make again. Iâm thankful for it, because it led to me making a genuine, artistic record again, the way I used to make music.â
Woodâs early records were lush arrangements that invited comparison with songwriters like Rufus Wainwright â not just because they share a home country â and drew from his background in jazz and classical ensembles.
The Burning Bright shares the same sensibilities but, compared to previous records, is relatively free of the âbells and whistlesâ type production he favoured in the past â itâs simpler, more direct and more heavily focused on the lyrics and Woodâs light vocals.
He says: âIn terms of songwriting Iâm surprised by what I wrote, but production-wise it was always my intention to strip it all down and simplify it, and not just be a wall of sound. I wanted it to be tasteful little bits, let the girls sing, have a little bit of horns and [focus on] the lyrics and the voice â I wanted that to be the subject. In that sense, the record was everything that I wanted it to be.
âIt was a concept from beginning to end. Even the last line on the very last song, âand now our story ends,â it was supposed to wrap all of that up. The beginning of a separation or a divorce or the end of anyoneâs relationship, you go through a lot of feelings.
âYouâre sad and youâre morose and sometimes faintly hopeful that it could work out, and then youâre angry, but by the end of it I wished my partner well. Truly, I have nothing but love for her. Thatâs, ultimately, how I wanted it all to feel.â
The one song that stands out as different â and thus gives a somewhat misleading sense of the record â happens to be the first thing most people will have heard of the record.
Forever And Ever is an upbeat, jaunty pop song that, on first listen, doesnât quite fit with whatâs around it, however Wood explains that it was a "happy accident" that brought the whole thing together and inspired him to push on and finish the album.
He says: âThat song was actually a happy accident. Itâs the one song not written in Ireland. I was in Los Angeles writing a song for a film and this guy, Bill Lefler, and I sat down in the morning, wrote it, and by the afternoon we recorded it. I played all the instruments and he played the drums.
âWe mixed it and sent it off, and it never got used for the film, but I just loved the song. It was so not something I think I would have written â had Bill not been in the room, that wouldnât have happened.
âThe way Bill and I wrote it, it was mixed by the end of the day. Then the label heard it in Canada and it took off on its own, it got plugged on the radio and it became a hit. I was like, âthere you go,â Iâve got to finish this record because everything is happening.
âIt was very much a song about wanting love and wanting something that actually lasted, but also being sad at not having it yet, truly. It all made sense to me on the record to include, and it got to be the one reprieve.â
Woodâs success has meant his time spent in Europe has typically never been much longer than a brief run of shows, but he plans to spend a lot more time here in the coming months as he attempts to make inroads on the continent.
He says: âCanada and North America have always gone so well and itâs always been so busy, and itâs always like âHey, Iâll get to Europe,â and then you have minimal amount of time so you come over and you do a quick run of shows and quick press and then you get the hell out because youâve got shit going on at home.
âI donât think your home truly loves you until youâve broken someplace else. And then theyâre like (he applauds) âweâve always known!ââ
The Burning Bright is out now. Royal Wood plays Boyleâs in Slane on Monday, October 6, and Whelanâs in Dublin on the 8th.
Sinead: This is the shit women think when they are in love
By DAVE DONNELLY
THE title of Sinead OâConnorâs tenth studio album â Iâm Not Bossy, Iâm the Boss â may sound like the title of a brash and typically opinionated record from a brash and typically opinionated artist.
First impressions are notoriously unreliable, however, and digging beneath the surface reveals quite the opposite â itâs a character-based record thatâs more as thoughtful and introverted as it is confrontational, as typified by lead single Take Me To Church.
Speaking in Dublinâs Westland Studios â formerly Lombard Street Studios â where, fittingly, she made her very first recording as a 15-year-old, OâConnor explains that she is enjoying the freedom being afforded to her by the new, more detached writing style.
âItâs not autobiographical. There are possibly three or four female characters on the record, and then there are three songs that are about me personally: Eight Good Reasons, How About I Be Me and Dense Water Deeper Down.
âThe rest are these characters, and a particular romantic journey of one of them. There is one character who is perhaps learning the difference between projection and reality as far romantic matters go, and Take Me To Church would be her âEureka!â moment.â
The spine of the album centres around this one particular, unnamed, character, for whom the songs are an expression of her gradually coming to realise that sometimes the reality of love and illusion of love are very different things.
She says: âSheâs had a set of illusions about someone â beer goggles, for want of a better expression â and sheâs come to realise the difference between projecting on to somebody what she wants to be there, and the actual reality.
âSheâs coming to understand the difference between love and desire â if you have only desire, thatâs like a bird with no feet, and if youâve only love thatâs like a bird without wings. It sounds a bit deep and meaningful but at the end of the day theyâre just pop songs.
âIf you could describe the album, itâs basically the shit that women think when theyâre in love.â
OâConnorâs decision to switch from the highly personal and visceral style of songwriting that resulted in classic albums like the Lion And The Cobra to working with characters came about in a rather unusual way.
âIt started with the last record,â she says, referring to 2012âs How About I Be Me (And You Be You)?, which is also the title of the opening track on Iâm Not Bossy.
âWhen I was younger I had a different platform for writing songs â I guess they were very personal and I had a lot of stuff to get off my chest â but with the last record a bunch of movie people had sent me scripts and asked me to write songs for movies, and what I used to do was write the songs and not give them to them.
âBecause of that, the character in the movie would be the person singing the song, so that suddenly became my favourite way of working. Not that I wouldnât write a personal song as such, but you donât really need to if you can manage characters.
âItâs brilliant because itâs all completely imagination. Somebody compared it, which was really accurate, to being a puppet master. To some extent itâs you and to another extent itâs not â you can be much more free, and the puppet on the string or the character on the end of your arm can be a lot more free, and do things and talk about things that you couldnât.â
The freedom to broach traditionally difficult or forbidden subjects has been a life-long battle for OâConnor, beginning at the age of 14 when she started to write songs as an outlet for feelings she wasnât able to express openly.
She says: âI was about 14 when I realised I could make money from songwriting, but I didnât become addicted to it until later, when I was about 15 or 16, and I got more addicted over the years.
âIt was out of necessity â I had a lot of shit to get off my chest. The Ireland I grew up in is hopefully unimaginable to the younger generation, but the place I grew up was a theocratic place. There was no such thing as therapy, no chance of recovery for people like me who came from child abuse or whatever, so music was really a therapeutic platform.
â[Music] was a place to say the shit I couldnât say anywhere else, that was forbidden anywhere else, whether it was âI love youâ or âI hate youâ or whatever. It was really a form of therapy until, really, the last record when I started to write about other shit.â
Organisations in Ireland and further afield, such as First Fortnight, have done a lot to put musicians at the forefront of the movement to promote awareness about mental health issues, and OâConnor can see a clear difference between the attitudes expressed by her children â aged from seven to 27 â and those of her own generation.
âSomehow, and for some reason, the worst thing to be considered in this world is mentally ill,â she says.
âThe reason that is the most frightening thing to be considered is because people get treated like shit, if theyâre perceived to be mentally ill, so their illness is used as something to beat them up and discredit them.
âThatâs something that I donât understand and I donât think we can necessarily change, but it wonât be until everybody over the age of 35 has passed away and the theocratic way of thinking and conditioning will pass away at the same time.
âWhat I observe from my children is that they think differently. When theyâre hanging out with their friends I can see they think differently. Theyâre much more compassionate and theyâre much more understanding. They wouldnât dream of using the word âcrazyâ as a term of abuse, or using somebodyâs illness as something to beat them up with.
âItâs a disgusting world, really.â
Iâm Not Bossy, Iâm The Boss is out now. Sinead plays the Electric Picnic main stage on Sunday from 3.50pm to 4.50pm.
JVM on EP: It is my job to win over festival crowds
By DAVE DONNELLY
WHILE for many the festival calendar is an opportunity to see a host of international acts that wouldnât normally grace these shores, one familiar name thatâs stood out this summer is that of James Vincent McMorrow.
The Dubliner has just completed a run of dates in Europe supporting The National, and a performance at Electric Picnic tomorrow will bring to a close the busiest summer of his career, where heâs played more festivals in more countries than he ever has before.
And whereas once upon a time the self-styled soul singer would have been one of the first acts to go out â playing at two or three oâclock as a warm-up for the bigger acts later in the day â now heâs ranked among the headliners or the second-to-last acts to play.
While his own particular style of music â which has a tendency to be quiet and nuanced â isnât obviously suited to a demanding festival audience, heâs profited from electing to take the challenge head on and adapting his music to make it more direct and immediate.
He tells Something for the Weekend: âYou can walk out on a stage and it might be a lot of people who donât know who you are, or you might walk out on a stage to not a lot of people at all depending on what country itâs in, and then the night afterwards you might go [to a bigger crowd].
âYou have to approach it from a very different mindset from your own shows. I see it as a competition, and your job every night is to treat the crowd like nobody knows who you are, and you have to win them over.
âEven if thatâs not the case â even if itâs your own crowd â you still have to put on the same show every night. Rather than treating every crowd like they know who you are and playing that show, I go, âListen, my job is to come out and win you over on the stage.ââ
His second album, Post-Tropical â released in January of this year â was a great leap forward from his critically-acclaimed debut Early In The Morning, not necessarily in terms of quality but certainly in terms of the sophistication of its production.
McMorrow explains that the commercial success of Early In The Morning - it was nominated for the Choice Music Prize in 2011 â allowed him the freedom to record the follow-up the way he wanted to and to put the focus firmly onto what he believes is his greatest strength: his singing.
Due to the lo-fi character of Early In The Morning â it was recorded on a shoestring with little more than his voice, a guitar and a piano â McMorrow feels he wasnât able to fully express himself as a singer, something he was able to correct second time around as he finally had the means and the technology to fully realise his ideas.
âIâve always wanted to push myself as a singer,â he explains, âand I donât necessarily feel I did so much on the first record â a lot of that was bound by circumstance â but on this one I just wanted to go for it.
âIn terms of the synths, I just love singing over washier arrangements â it fits my vocal a lot more. My vocal never really fits very well around a dry guitar, so itâs difficult for me, but if I play a Fender Rhodes or even a piano, something that has a broader sound, I can do more vocally.
âEverything Iâm writing and working on going forward is in my wheelhouse as a singer, as a soul singer.â
While he admits he had little understanding of live performance when he was writing and recording Early In The Morning, he wrote Post-Tropical with half a mind on how the record would sound in the larger venues he was then playing.
He says: âI think thatâs a good place to be. With this album I thought more about playing live because when I made the first record I had no idea about playing live really, so I didnât have any idea about how a song might work in a room.
âWith the second record, I was definitely thinking a lot more about how this part has to be effective in a room and how this part has to be effective to a group of people, not just on an album.â
Heâs been working on new material while on the road â his own work as well as some collaborations that arenât far enough along to reveal â and his experience of playing large arenas and festival grounds has allowed him to further hone his craft as a songwriter.
âThe newer stuff again feels a lot more direct than anything Iâve worked on before. Thereâs a lot more singing and itâs a lot sharper than anything Iâve worked on before, and thatâs definitely a reflection of the shows weâre playing and the size of venue weâre playing.
âIt should have an effect â you should have an instinct about how a song flows through a room and how a person at the very back of the room can hear it the same as the person sitting in the front row. Thatâs a good place to be.
âI feel good about that because 90% of being a musician now is about touring and playing live. It used to be a lot less than that, but you make a record and you tour for two years and thatâs the cycle.
âThatâs where you have to be because you canât make money off selling records anymore. Youâve got to play live, which is cool, but you have to think about it how songs are going to work and what youâve got to do.â
James Vincent McMorrow plays the Electric Arena at Electric Picnic from 11pm to 12pm.
Picnic-bound Foals: Festivals like markets - not restaurants
By DAVE DONNELLY
FED UP with a life mired in math-rock obscurity, Jack Bevan and Yannis Philippakis â drummer and lead singer respectively â traded cult status for colt status and formed Foals, and theyâve hardly broken stride since.
The Oxford natives turned heads instantly with their still-quite-mathy debut album, 2008âs Antidote, and when Total Life Forever dropped in 2010 theyâd managed to find a much tighter balance between esoteric indie and straight-up stadium rock.
By the time they came to record album number three, Holy Fire, they were comfortable enough within themselves to fully embrace their love of old-school rock 'n' roll, and thereâs a bluesy, Led Zeppelin-like feel to much of the Mercury-nominated record.
Bevan explains to Something for a Weekend â while enjoying a rare day off amid a crowded summer schedule that includes this weekend's Electric Picnic â that himself and Yannis have always yearned to create something more gutsy and direct, but until recently they lacked the confidence to fully back themselves.
âThat influence is been something thatâs been with us since the beginning,â he says.
âMe and Yannis have been into heavier styles of music for years, ever since we met, and I think we didnât really find a way to channel that into Foals in a way that worked before.
âWorking with Flood and Alan Moulder, who had done a lot of our favourite rock records growing up, gave us the confidence to try do something a bit more direct and something a bit more bold.
âIt feels like something that really fits with us â we really enjoy playing that kind of music â and it definitely didnât feel like we sat down and went âright, weâre going to go rock right now'. It felt like a natural progression from what weâd done in the past.â
Much of their new-found freedom emanates from frontman Yannis, who Bevan feels has become increasingly open in his lyrics, expressing his feelings in a much more direct fashion, which compares and contrasts nicely with the more aggressive musical style.
He says: âI think, for Yannis, over the course of the three records weâve made, heâs found heâs finally able to fully open up. He writes all the lyrics, so I canât talk to you specifically, but heâs definitely become more direct as heâs become more confident over the records weâve made.â
While theyâve undoubtedly grown as people and musicians, so too has their audience: having sold out two gigs at The Academy in Dublin early last year, they sold out twin dates in the Olympia in February of this year, and theyâre justifiably one of the top names on the bill for Electric Picnic.
While festivals can be an arduous experience for many artists, away from the comfort of playing for their own paying fans, Bevan and his bandmates are excited by the challenge of trying to win over completely different audiences, many of whom might not be in the mood to pay much attention.
He says: âI think itâs more of a challenge and sometimes that can be a good thing. When you have a huge amount of people at a festival watching you, maybe only 50 per cent of them knew you before the festival and maybe only 10 per cent of them have been to your gigs, so youâve got a chance to play to new people and youâve got a chance to win over new fans, and thatâs something we see as a challenge.â
Tailoring your show to suit not only your own fans but what is often a majority of non-fans carries the danger that the show will become generic and impersonal â trying to please all-comers instead of focusing on what worked to begin with, but Bevan doesnât see it that way.
He says: âI donât see festivals as impersonal. When you buy tickets to a festival, you are buying tickets to an experience. Youâll have a selection of bands you want to see.
âAnd I think now festival organisers are so good at curating festivals into line-ups that work so well, so I just see it as a different experience. Itâs more like, instead of going to a restaurant, itâs like going to a market where youâve got a lot of different stuff you can try. Sorry to be cheesy!â
It helps Foals that their music straddles the invisible boundaries between festival-friendly genres, so theyâre well able to adapt their set depending on the particular demands of the festivalâs attendees â not quite horses for courses, then.
âWe try to tailor our set quite a lot to fit what we expect is going to happen with the crowd,â says Bevan.
âFor some festivals, we will try to play a sort of dance-orientated line-up so we will go in with more dancier songs, while if itâs more of an alternative festival weâll play more experimental songs.
âItâs something that is quite hard to piece together, a festival set, because you want to engage people who have never heard you before right from the beginning, so itâs something we change as we go.
âI think we play more or less a different set every festival, trying to come to the perfect line-up.â
While the bandâs busy schedule means that they have yet to begin writing their next record â and theyâre not the type of band to bring an acoustic guitar on the tour bus â Bevan says he is excited by the prospect of beginning album number four once the summer rush is over, and that the band feel no pressure to live up their considerable hype.
He says: âI think because weâve had such a gradual increase in popularity, itâs never felt like anythingâs changed, which is great because if it took off too quickly I think it could be a bit bewildering.
âIf you put your first record out and itâs stratospherically big, it puts a lot of pressure on your future writing. But I think the pressure has grown with us, so weâre not really nervous about our next record â weâre just excited.â
Foals play Electric Picnic's main stage tomorrow (Friday) from 9pm to 10.15pm.
Wild Beasts: We have a bit of Stevie Wonder-style optimism about us now
By DAVE DONNELLY
THE name Wild Beasts throws up all sorts of imagery â stampeding buffalo, ferocious lions, chest-thumping gorillas, that sort of thing.
So it would make sense to assume a band with the name Wild Beasts would be similarly, well, wild â a thrash metal band or a thumping techno outfit (perhaps the one that killed Deadmau5).
London indie-rock quartet Wild Beasts donât quite fit into that mould â their style is tilted more towards lush, evocative textures and disco-informed falsettos â but yet their moniker seems appropriate.
Having shot to prominence with the release of their second album, the Mercury Prize-nominated Two Dancers, and the 2011 follow-up Smother, they released their most accomplished work to date in the form of Present Tense earlier this year.
While previous records would be described as positive and uplifting, there is an undercurrent of aggression â a wildness even â that is evident from the start of opening track Wanderlust, with its expletive-ridden chorus, and doesnât let up.
Speaking to Something for the Weekend, co-frontman Hayden Thorpe explains that much of the motivation behind the album comes from putting themselves outside of their comfort zones and experiencing new things.
He says: âWe hadnât quite lived in the real world enough to have anything of use to say.
âThat time out allowed us to, personally, grow up a little bit and maybe just get a grip because if it does anything for you, the music industry, it can make you feel like youâre doing the most important job in the world and that itâs crucial, but ultimately itâs not!
âYouâre kind of pursuing your own fantasy and itâs important within that to galvanise, and we were happy that we were a gang again and being in each otherâs company, whereas after being in four or five years of non-stop album cycles before that, it had taken its toll on us as people.â
Thorpe acknowledges there is an aggressive edge to the album, but all in all he perceives it exuding a positive outlook, something he acknowledges is difficult to pull off believably in such a cynical world.
He says: âUltimately the music is a lot more positive. Itâs instilled with some optimism, which is a difficult thing to pull off in music, because you canât help but imagine Stevie Wonder with two thumbs up, that almost âHollywoodâ optimism
âThis is more of a stoic optimism in that itâs a belief in the better in spite of whatever troubles or pain everybody experiences.
âI think thereâs a gusto and a bit of fight in it, which I think is positive. Itâs not lying down and itâs not resigning itself. There is the aggression but I take that as us having a bit of fight in us. There are bleaker moments but theyâre always tempered by a positive outcome.â
âThere are political implications [on the record] but certainly thereâs not supposed to be some political message or mantra â itâs just a personal expression of the now, of how it is now.â
Whereas the bandâs previous records have tended to be very much dependant on live instrumentation with guitar textures to the fore, Present Tense is much more synthesised by contrast.
They made the brave decision to discontinue working with producer Richard Formby â whom they describe as a âmentorâ â and turned instead to producers Leo Abrahams and Lexxx, though Thorpe suggests the sound of the record was influenced more by their location than anything else.
He says: âPresent Tense is the first album we wrote and built in London, and because of that the restrictions on space and cost of space has implications on the work in process.
âWe were working in smaller rooms and we didnât have the room for a full band set-up, which might sound disastrous, but then again if you have a computer, as we did, you can create a world and a universe within that room.
âWe were drawn to bedroom producers like Clams Casino, Caribou (pictured above), Four Tet, How to Dress Well â thereâs a romance about these guys who are producing quite incredible music in this small space.
âThat practicality of having a small space did have implication, but also we write, I think, music of the body. Itâs emotional music, physical music, and I think these sounds that are far more vivid in widescreen than what you can achieve with guitars.
âIt was also sonically more adventurous for us â we could do a lot more with it â and that was why we were drawn to it.â
While Present Tense represents a departure for the band, Thorpe is most proud that in spite of being a dense and at times difficult record, it has enough immediacy to draw people in â something its top ten debut in the UK would appear to confirm.
âI think one of our USPs, if you will, is that we try to write pop music thatâs not difficult for that sake of being difficult â itâs not challenging just to be more intellectual or high-brow.
âThe most intellectual and clever piece of music is the two-and-a-half minute pop song â that canât be underestimated, and itâs incredibly challenging, and itâs an incredible thing to pull off.
âInadvertently, by nature, our work is a little more lengthy and dense than the regular radio fodder.â
Right now, things are going very well for Wild Beasts, but in keeping with the stoic optimism of the record, Thorpe admits that ultimately heâs as much along for the ride as anybody else.
âYouâve just got to take your chances and make your peace with oblivion and just kind of go for it. The album will, really, carry us where it will carry us and weâve got to just chase it and go with it.
âSo who knows where it will end up? Itâs just kind of like being awash at sea, and then you will eventually get spat out and washed up, but who knows where that will be?â
Wild Beasts play Forbidden Fruit in Dublinâs Royal Kilmainham Hospital on Sunday, June 1. Day tickets: âŹ59.50 / two-day tickets: âŹ110.Â
FESTIVALS:
Forbidden Fruit is back this weekend at The Royal Hospital, Kilmainham, Dublin, this weekend. If you want to hear quality tunes  and soak up the festival atmosphere without having to forego showers and comfy beds each night, day festivals are the way to go. Saturday highlights include And So I Watch You From Afar, Lisa O'Neill, Flying Lotus, F**k Buttons, Girls Names and The Flaming Lips. On Sunday, I'd recommend checking out Public Enemy, Warpaint, Wild Beasts, Little Dragon (pictured above) and Klangkarussell. Even though they seem to play here ALL THE TIME, it would be rude not to nip down for the 2ManyDJs headline slot on the main stage too. Day tickets  âŹ59.50 / two-day tickets: âŹ110.
TONIGHT:
Dr. Feelgood legend Wilko Johnson has reluctantly had to cancel all of his public engagements to undergo a medical procedure, including his show scheduled for The Academy, Dublin. Refunds are available from point of purchase.
Catch Christy Moore live at Belfast's Waterfront. Doors 7.30pm, Tickets £30-35.
Codes play a headline show at Whelan's, Dublin, tonight with support from Carriages and The Choir Invisible. Doors 8pm, tickets âŹ10.
This makes me very sad: Croupier are disbanding after six magnificent years and are playing a farewell gig in the Twisted Pepper this evening. TIckets are âŹ7, or âŹ10 including copies of both of our physical releases: 2012's self-titled album on CD, and 2013's The Visor EP on 12" vinyl, while stocks last. In the meantime, lovely lads that they are, their entire back catalogue is available to download free at croupier.bandcamp.com/.
MIDWEEK:
On Thursday night, Gigonometry presents Amoric / Million Little Gods / Plutonic Dust / The Good Rain at the Workmanâs Club, Dublin.
Ticket price: âŹ7/âŹ10 for members.
New wave legends Blondie and post-rock goliaths Mogwai are among the 21 acts added to the Electric Picnic line-up this morning.
The initial EP announcement back in April was greeted with little fanfare as fans turned up their cultured noses at the idea of two returning veteran acts - trip-hoppers Portishead and hip-hoppers Outkast - being the main headline acts.
But this morning's additions - which also include Sinead O'Connor, ex-LCD Soundsystem svengali James Murphy, R&B popper Kelis (no one tell the Sea Sessions their headliner is also at EP!), goths-turned-shoegazers The Horrors and Irish indie boppers HamsandwicH - make Ireland's favourite festival a lot more palatable.
It is arguably Blondie, who are this year celebrating 40 years as a band, that are garnering the most attention online, and their set looks a front-runner for another of those "I was there" EP moments.
Other acts added to the line-up include UK grunge revivalists Drenge and - rekindling the best of the decade before - 80s-inducing Twin Shadow.
All in all, it's looking up for diehard Picnic fans, with a raft of the already-confirmed acts such as St Vincent, London Grammar and FKA Twigs firmly in the ascendancy of late.
Here's the up-to-date line-up including today's additions:
Just catching up with this now.
Class new tune and great-but-sad video from Dublin twosome We Cut Corners.
Their album, THINKNOTHING, is out now in Ireland and rest of the world. Order the CD and 12â gatefold vinyl online at delphilabel.com
FESTIVAL season is finally upon us! It's kicking off today in fantastic style with Vantastival music and campervan festival at Bellurgan Park, Co Louth. Don't worry if you don't have a bus, tent campers are welcome too.
Highlights will include performances from Fight Like Apes, The Hot Sprockets, Booka Brass Band and The Barley Mob as well as the Campervan Cook-Off and the Goldenplec.com unplugged stage at The Vantastibar. Three nights camping is âŹ95, Sunday tickets are âŹ45. Don't bother getting a babysitter either, Vantastival is a perfect family activity so bring the kids along.Â
 If you're not ready to crack out last year's smelly tent just yet, here's some of the highlights of this week's standalone gigs.
 TONIGHT
DJ Jazzy Jeff plays Twister Pepper, Dublin, as part of The Beatyard festival (see The-Beatyard.com for full listings). Tickets âŹ20, doors 10.30pm.Â
Daithi plays Cypress Avenue, Cork at 10pm tonight. Tickets âŹ10.
TOMORROW
If you're heading to The Button Factory, Dublin to catch Dimitri From Paris, be sure to get there early to catch Waterford's finest, Get Down Edits, play the support slot. Tickets âŹ15Â
SUNDAY
One of the best live acts in Ireland at the moment, Overhead, The Albatross, play Roisin Dubh with Race The Flux and the suberbly named Punchface Champions. Doors 9pm and it's a mere âŹ3 at the door.
I'll be legging it back from Vantastival on Sunday afternoon, as there's no way I'm missing on of hip hop's founding fathers, Grandmaster Flash, play a DJ Set at The Village, Dublin. Doors 11pm, Tickets âŹ15. Â
MIDWEEK
Tori Amos plays The Olympia, Dublin on Wednesday and Thursday next week. Tickets from âŹ39.05.
Jagwar Ma were one of my favourite acts at Glastonbury last year. See them Thursday evening at Whelans, Dublin. Tickets cost far less than a trip to Glasto at just âŹ15.50.Â
Le Galaxie: L.A. mixing, 66e, peacocks, mental-health stigma, marriage equality and beards
By DAVE DONNELLY
LOS Angeles loves Le Galaxie and Le Galaxie love Los Angeles â so much so the Dublin electro-rock outfit have headed stateside to put the finishing touches on their second album.
Frontman Michael Pope speaks to Something for the Weekend in between mixing sessions about LA, the bandâs ambitious vision for album number two and their forthcoming Love System gig in support of marriage equality.
Pope says: âWeâre here putting the finishing touches on our 2nd record âLe Clubâ with ex-DFA engineer Eric Broucek. And by âfinishing touchesâ I mean FINAL mixes and not us still faffing around with cowbells and getting lost in synthesizer paradise for days on end.
âThat time has passed. Eric is taking it over the line and beyond at the moment, making our 13 tunes sound better than we dared dream. And we dream BIG.â
The quartetâs particular brand of euphoric pop is a natural fit for the City of Angels, with its stone-splitting sunshine, wide highways and palm trees the perfect backdrop to their obscure references to 1980s Hollywood.
He says: âItâs funny, Eric is a born and raised Los Angeles native and even he kind of understands where weâre coming from with our fantasy Los Angeles obsession. He dropped us downtown yesterday whilst listening to Jazz FM though, that wasnât exactly what weâd imagined when we saw Drive.â
Itâs been three years since Le Galaxie released their first record â the confusingly-titled Laserdisc Nights 2 â but Pope doesnât feel the album has aged particularly well.
He says: âWeâre a little cool on that record, three years on. Thereâs no doubting that it propelled the Le Galaxie mothership forward a huge amount and we proudly had it under our arms for the following 18 months, but listening to it now is a little painful.
âWe hadnât fully realised what we wanted to be, or how to condense all our ideas into listenable songs! We listened to Solarbabies last week and weâre baffled by what kind of song it even was. Is it even a song? Dude, Iâm so seriously!â
This time around, the band sought to take their time and do things properly (hence the projected release date has been pushed back a few months), drawing influence from the absolute pinnacle of the album-oriented dance music.
Pope says: âA great dance music album: that was our mission statement. Surrender from Chemical Brothers, Homework by Daft Punk, â by Justice, Richard D. James by Aphex Twin, Second Toughest In The Infants by Underworld. Entire pieces of work that work from start to finish and you can dip into at any time and instantly fall in love yet again. It needs to be said that I am not comparing us to those wizards. Iâm just saying that we are aiming big.â
Anybody whoâs borne witness to Le Galaxieâs energetic, glowstick-wielding live show (they recently performed at the UCD Ball in the O2) may be surprised to learn of their past life as chin-scratching post-rockers 66e, pictured above, back when that sort of thing was still vaguely unusual.
âItâs so long ago itâs hard to remember exactly why we stopped wanting to make enormous sad music and make dance music instead. Maybe itâs because we were not good at it. I like to describe 66e as âmath rock for people who failed the Leaving Certâ.
âWeâd always been obsessed with dance music, from Eighties 4/4 synth pop to Nineties euro house nonsense, but I suppose we never felt comfortable enough to see if we could do it for ourselves. And in fairness, it took a little while for Le Galaxie to figure it out too.
âWe still love our areas of light and dark thatâs for sure, but in terms of how we approach songwriting and live performance, itâs thoroughly dissimilar. Post-rock never suited our character, it was too subdued and internal. We needed something vibrant and colourful. Weâre like old sexy peacocks really.â
Ultimately, the chin-scratching and beard-stroking element of post-rock was never a good fit for the band, particularly Pope, who apparently prides himself on immaculately-coiffeured facial hair.
He says: âIf you look after your beard, you should never have to scratch it. I recommend Tomâs Beard Tonic. Fully dry and gently backcomb your beard after showering then let it sit for ten minutes.
âPool a dozen or so small drops of Beard Tonic into your palms and gently work the oil into your beard, replenishing the natural oils that have been removed by your shampoo. Then head out into the world with your head held high, confident that your beard is ready for wherever life takes you.â
After wrapping things up in Los Angeles, itâs back to Dublin that life takes Le Galaxie and straight to the Academy in Dublin for Love System, a fundraising event the band have organised in support of equal marriage.
Pope, pictured above in LA with aforementioned beard, explains: âThereâll be a lot of misinformation, rhetoric and discrimination being spouted by the other side of the debate in the lead up to the referendum next year, and we want to financially get behind the cause of equality in any way we can.
âThe idea of some middle-aged, pasty white guy in a cheap suit thinking he can tell any citizen of this country who he or she can marry is obscene. Itâs nothing to do with you, old timer. Accept human beings for the way they are. Accept the world for the way it is. Go do some actual good.â
Le Galaxie are regular fixtures on the schedules of First Fortnight, the annual series of events that seeks to spread awareness of mental health issues through the creative arts. Pope sees it as part of the bandâs ethos to champion causes they believe in.
He says: âIt feels like the same overall goal, in a weird way. You want people to accept the actual way the world is, not the way theyâd prefer it to be. Men love men. Women love women. Peopleâs brains are fragile, delicate mechanisms and can cause them a lot of pain. Sometimes in very sad and scary ways. Itâs not their fault. Help them. Accept them.â
Nevertheless, heâs wary of the general concept of musicians as campaigners and admits itâs not a role for every musician to take up.
âI donât know [if itâs for everyone]. Itâs undeniable that if you have a microphone with a thousand people in front of you, they will listen. But maybe I should just shut up?â
Le Galaxie play Love System in support of marriage equality at the Academy in Dublin on May 9.
Tonight: To mark the release of their debut album, New Secret Weapon play a headline show tonight at Button Factory, Dublin. I hear that pre-sale tickets are almost gone so if you haven't got yours yet, get down early to avoid missing out. Doors 8.30pm with support from Tongue Bundle, Val Normal, Phazam Haze and a DJ set from DjAckulate. Tickets âŹ10 with a free download included. Also due an album release soon, We Cut Corners play Roisin Dubh, Galway, tonight. Doors 9pm, tickets âŹ10. Gavin James will be playing Cypress Avenue, Cork tonight. Doors 8pm, tickets âŹ15. Tomorrow: Berlin based duo Booka Shade celebrate the release of their latest album Eve with a live show at Vicar Street. I've seen their excellent DJ sets before but never their live set, looking forward to it. Doors 7.30pm, tickets âŹ27.25 & âŹ29.50. Midweek: London-based noise rockers Yuck are back with a new line up and a kick ass new EP. They'll be bringing their offensively good live show to The Workmans Club on Wednesday. If you're a fan of Dinosaur Jr, Sonic Youth and My Bloody Valentine, you'll enjoy this show. Doors 8pm with support from This Other Kingdom. Tickets âŹ16.50 Multi-faceted violinist, guitarist and singer-songwriter Joan As Police Woman (pictured above) plays The Button Factory in Dublin on Wednesday night (7.30pm, âŹ22.50) and The Limelight 2, Belfast, the following night (8pm, ÂŁ17). Also happening on Thursday at The Copper House Gallery on Synge Street in Dublin is All You Need Is Love, an exhibition in support of Marriage Equality. The exhibition will be introduced by Panti, Ireland's most fabulous drag queen and self-described accidental and occasional gay rights activist. DJs from Dublin's best Saturday night gay club, Mother, will provide the soundtrack to the evening. The exhibition, which runs for one night only, will bring together some of Irelandâs most talented artists including photographers, graffiti artists, illustrators and graphic designers. Limited edition prints inspired by the theme âAll You Need Is Loveâ will be for sale on the night for âŹ30 with all profits going to Marriage Equality. A number of artists have also contributed one-off pieces for sale on the night.
Robert Downey Jr.âs newly launched Twitter feed (@RobertDowneyJr) is getting a lot of exercise in its first few days, just as he and the rest of the cast for âAvengers: Age of Ultronâ gathers.
Here, heâs posted in short order photos with co-star Mark Ruffalo (who posted the photo originally with the caption âBrosâ), with executive producer Jeremy Latcham, and as the short seat as the crowd of director chairs assembles.Â