“Hot already!” Conor J. O’Brien smiles from his stage, two songs deep into a flawless performance. It’s a rare balmy summer’s evening in Dublin, perhaps not the most suitable weather for O’Brien’s songs, concerned as they are with hanging bodies, hungry scavengers and selfish love.
Yet as soon as Villagers slip quietly into the spotlight and ease into first song ‘The Meaning of the Ritual’, this coolly melancholic music has the audience rapt. Like all great bands, they create a world of their own, a world the Button Factory, packed with friends, family and fans, is only too eager to get lost in.
With a critically acclaimed debut and number one spot on the Irish Album Chart to toast, the mood is celebratory. Each song is met with hushed awe and wild applause at the close. For O’Brien’s part, he keeps the banter to a minimum: a few mumbled lines of modesty and a half-apologetic thank you to his family. He lets the songs talk for him. Possessed of a lyrical dexterity and quiver in his voice that draws comparison with Conor Oberst, and moving from sweet croon to full-blooded roar effortlessly, he sings with an honesty and edge that helps steer his confessionals clear of mawkishness or cliché. Each song is uniformly excellent without a momentary lull or dip in quality: it sounds like a greatest hits set.
Whilst the songwriting is strong enough to work unadorned, tonight the backing band lift the music to another level. A fantastic rhythm section lends a sense of energy and urgency to proceedings. On ‘Pieces’ they even engage in some old-fashioned ‘rocking out’.
A short clutch of songs and it’s almost over, save an encore that gives the gorgeous ‘Set The Tigers Free’ an airing. Afterwards, as people file out into the Temple Bar night, the deceptively simple melodies and lines of heartache keep playing in your mind. “I was a dreamer,” he sighs on ‘Becoming a Jackal’. For those present tonight, it was a joy to hear those dreams. Mr O’Brien could, and should, be huge.