- Music
- 10 Nov 06
No, they’re not Jack White’s extra-curricular band. Rather, The Racketeers are long time veterans of the Irish scene with shades of Nick Cave and Johnny Cash in their darkly fascinating sound.
Much to his frustration and occasional amusement, a lot of people have been coming up and congratulating DIY rocker Eamonn Dowd recently.
After almost a decade of relative obscurity, his outfit The Racketeers are finally having hit records in Europe, Asia and America, selling-out tours, and getting celebrity endorsements and namechecks in the right places.
Except, of course, they’re not. The Racketeers are as obscure as ever. It’s just a little mix-up with the name.
“With The Raconteurs playing here, there and everywhere else, it certainly doesn’t fucking help,” Dowd sighs. “It started a few months ago – people saying, ‘Ah Eamonn, I heard your crowd on Tom Dunne the other night’. And I’m going, ‘I don’t think so. I haven’t released a record in two years, and I can’t see Tom digging me out from the bottom of the pile!’ So there’s been a lot of confusion.”
To add more, his band’s fourth independently released album, Silver and Dust, sees them trading as ‘Eamonn Dowd & The Racketeers’. Why the name change?
“Well, I’m the only surviving member from the original crew, and it’s kinda been my baby for a long time,” he explains. “But the name thing came about because I’ve been doing solo acoustic gigs around Europe and I’ve been billed as ‘Eamonn Racketeer’.
“But a lot of the promoters I’ve been dealing with they’d print fliers and put me into the local paper as ‘Eamonn Dowd from The Racketeers’. So it kinda made sense.”
There’s been quite a few Racketeers over the last 10 years. Currently, Brian O’Toole is on bass and Chris Teusner on drums, but it’s essentially been Dowd fronting an ever changing line-up.
“They come and they go,” he chuckles. “I was thinking of trying to make up a list. I’d say it’s up to 15 or 20 at this stage.”
Musically, Silver and Dust is a solid, balls out, three chords and the bitter truth, rock & roll album – country rock tinged with whiskey and experience. Dowd has a harsh, raspy voice like an Irish Steve Earle.
Lyrically, there are shades of everybody from Bukowski, Burroughs and Behan to Cash, Cave and Crowley.
“I consciously decided to write songs that weren’t autobiographical because I’m sick of that shit. There’s only so many songs you can write about drinking and falling over and bad women. Ha, ha! I decided to write songs about characters – historical characters or fictional characters. And that was fun because then I felt I could write about anything.”
Although they’ve now got a record company in Germany, Dowd handles most of the Racketeers’ affairs himself. Fiercely independent, he has no manager, booking agent or A&R man. All of this adds to the madness and stress of an already precarious on the road existence.
“Touring’s always a bit fucking crazy, but I’m starting to take it easier,” he admits. “I’m getting close to that danger spot around the forties when people start dropping off.”
He knows quite a few people who’ve died or burnt out from living the life, but was particularly shocked by the death of former Swell Maps’ frontman Nikki Sudden. “I’ve been intrigued by him for a long time. Probably since the late ‘70s. He was very indie and very DIY. He influenced people like Sonic Youth and Mercury Rev.
“We had a correspondence going on for over a year. He was supposed to be coming to Ireland. Eventually he came over and I set up a tour for him. He did a few dates, we had a great time, and we recorded a song together. And he went back to the States in great form. And the night before he was due to leave New York and swing by here again, he just fucking died, sitting at a table, reading a book. Heart attack. So that was a bit sad.
“He was somebody I always admired, because he was always on the road, either with a band or solo. He did his thing. He did about 20 solo albums.”