The website for Jeff Martin’s solo activities bears the name, ‘Exile And The Kingdom’. It’s almost uncannily appropriate, since Martin, who was born in Windsor in Ontario, Canada, is now exiled in the Irish countryside near the remote Cork village of Ahakista with the county we call the Kingdom right next door. In fact it’s so remote that there’s a bus to Bantry only three days a week.

But to Jeff Martin it’s the most beautiful place in the world. “It’s a truly special place on Sheep’s Head Peninsula, with magnificent views out over Dunmanus Bay and mountains on both sides,” he says.
He lives in a 300-year-old stone house that he moved into in 2005 with his wife Nicole and his son of two years, named Django after the Belgian jazz guitarist Django Reinhardt. According to Martin, “This house is full of love and mystery and music. To me it’s the kingdom I’ve been searching for all of my life.”
The house is about a five minute walking distance form his nearest neighbour. He readily admits that he needed a place of respite after 15 years of hard partying all over the world with Tea Party, and with the band in limbo since around 2005, he had ample opportunity to seek a place of solace. “I was looking for a place of peace and of healing," he says. "I wanted to find that innocent and that simplicity of living again, and this is where I found it. In many ways this is a house totally out of time. It inspires me in much of my work. It’s a truly majestic place to live. In fact the landscape and the people inspired me to write a song I’ve called ‘The Kingdom’ and I reckon it’s the best song I’ve ever written.”
Of course, Martin did more than partying while he travelled the world with the Canadian blues rockers. “Throughout those years I picked up lots of antiques, musical instruments and art work from all over the world," he says. "I’ve got a fine collection of rare old books about philosophy, and I’ve been an avid collector of anything connected with the 19th-century French poet Charles Baudelaire.”
The house is generally quiet, both inside and out, except when Django is on the loose. His son, according to Martin, rules the household these days. “He loves music,” he explains. “He seems to be quite fond of Mozart and Bach especially.” This is hardly surprising news, as Martin has a fine record collection, a recording studio not far from the family residence, and the place is littered with enough instruments to kit out an orchestra, including harmonium, sitar, oud and hurdy-gurdy. And they’re just the ones I can spell.
Tea Party had a penchant for mixing their blues and rock sensibilities with elements of world music, and had attracted the epithet Moroccan Roll. Martin’s record collection contains many gems from the Middle East, Asia, Africa and the classical tradition. “But”, he adds, “I’m not somebody who feels the need to keep up with music on a daily basis. I generally stumble across things that attract me and I pick them up.”
And then there’s his guitar collection. He reckons he has picked up a total of 45 guitars on his travels. But does he have a favourite? “Yes,” he admits, drawing my attention to a 1916 Gibson harp guitar which was a gift from the president of EMI Records, to whom the band were signed in Canada. “It’s a very rare example and it’s become part of my soul now and I can’t see myself ever parting with it. I reckon it’s now worth at least €30,000 and possibly way more.” I better put it down carefully.
I see no sign of pets around, unusual in a house in the Irish countryside. “Well,” he admits, we once had a cat but he upped and left. We were sorry to see him go, but with me travelling all over the place, it’s not right to have animals if you can’t look after them, so I don’t see us getting a replacement.”
His book collection rivals his guitar stash. “I’ve got lots of occult stuff, from books about alchemy to books about the theosophical society and by H.P. Blavatsky. I bought a lot of them at auctions in different part so of the world. I have several editions of Baudelaire’s Flowers Of Evil which was first published around 1857. He’s my favourite poet of all time and a big influence on my work. I also have a lot of stuff on Aleister Crowley, who was also big into magic and witchcraft.”
But if you think Martin’s reading diet is all heavy and esoteric, he does make room for lighter fiction. “I’m a sucker for Grail mysteries and stuff like that, Dan Brown’s The Da Vinci Code and Kate Mosse’s Labyrinth. They’re my guilty pleasures, you might say.”
It’s not too far to either Durrus or Kilcrohan to find a decent pub, but given the man’s past associates in music, I wonder if the house might be a haven for the occasional “tea party”, including those of the mad hatter variety. But Martin merely chuckles and says not. “We’re more into wine parties. This is a Dionysian house and we have a small circle of friends and we really want to keep it that way.” Among those friends is Wayne Sheehy, noted drummer, whom Martin will be touring this spring. “Wayne comes from around these parts. We recorded a live gig at the Sugar Club and it turned out so good we plan to release that and then in the summer we’ll record a new studio album.”
So despite its remoteness, Martin’s kingdom does not keep him captive from the rest of the world. “On a good day, that’s one with no tractors on it, I can get to Cork Airport in about one hour and 15 minutes. From there I can get to just about anywhere in the world. I love travelling and playing music, but I also love coming home.”
Jeff Martin plays the Sugar Club in Dublin on May 5.