It's nothing less than a joyous coincidence that Sufjan Stevens’ infinite ambition and incredible work ethic are easily matched by his talent. It now transpires that his 2005 masterpiece Illinoise - finally clocking in at a hefty 75 minutes - started life as a double set and was eventually whittled down to a 22-song album.
It has to be up there with the greatest of 2004’s travesties: Chichester’s brightest, Hope Of The States, received a relatively muted response to their incendiary debut album. Additionally, the tragic suicide of guitarist Jimmi Lawrence in 2004 – perhaps more publicised than the record itself - merely served to infuse The Lost Riots with an overwhelming sense of poignancy, thus eclipsing its true beauty and essence.
As both the vocal and focal point of The Radio, Caroline Lee Baker dresses tomboy by day, black clad bohemian by night. But for the HP fashion extravaganza she goes for an all-out homage to 60s style icon Twiggy. Later for those heels though.
On the whole, Black Holes & Revelations is an album that delights, beguiles and satiates. At once familiar and new, this is Muse at their most crystallised, focused and ambitious.
With the opening strains of ‘Welcome To The Jungle’, it does seem that, aside from Guns N'Roses frontman Axl Rose’s growing-old-disgracefully complexion, precious little has changed.
Metallica provided a crisp evening packed with a vicious, visceral energy and more anthems than you could shake a stick at. But there was also a nagging sense of déjà vu...
Ireland has gone mad for sex toys. Blokes, women, married, single, gay, straight and any and every combination of the above – they’re all indulging as though there were no tomorrow. But what are the hottest tickets in the country’s most successful sex emporia? We sent Tanya Sweeney to find out.
A frisson of pure excitement waves through the capital upon hearing news of the band’s reunion, which does little to explain the somewhat muted reception the band receives tonight.
They are young, smart and full of self-belief. Their ambitions are boundless, their talents rich and varied. For a generation of young Irish women, the world is awash with possibilities.
From actors to musicians, models to politicians, women are redefining what it means to be female and Irish. Their role-models are women who have achieved greatness, who have made us sit up and pay attention. Not content to bask in someone else’s glories, they believe every woman should aspire to be the best at what they do.
These are the women for whom second best is an anathema. They are the future. To introduce the Hot Press-selected crew: Tanya Sweeney and Louise Hodgson.
Out of the ashes of a fairly unassuming Dublin outfit called Listo, Humanzi have arisen, phoenix-style, to become our new Great White Hope and the frontrunner of a new music scene.
After cutting her teeth (ouch!) in Bachelor’s Walk and Shimmy Marcus’s Headrush, Derry actress Laura Pyper has squeezed herself into thigh-high boots and corset for Hex, Sky One’s teenage witch riposte to Buffy.
In a parallel universe, Elbow would command as much adulation and hyperbole as Coldplay and Snow Patrol. But, like their fellow Mancunians I Am A Kloot, they release albums and anthems into the world with nary a fanfare.
Kelly Osbourne reckons he’s the new Bright Eyes. But downbeat Scottish songwriter – and sometime Arab Strap guitarist – Malcolm Middleton is more concerned with impressing his mum.
Welsh pop extroverts Super Furry Animals have delivered their most cohesive and rewarding record yet. Frontman Gruf Rhys explains why Wu Tang Clan as the band's new role model.
Marriage and babies have given The Dandy Warhols a fresh perspective on life. But they aren't ready to turn their back on sleazed-up rock'n roll just yet
For some reason, the name that Galwegian Declan Burke has chosen for his altar ego, Larry Beau, is almost exquisitely intriguing; conjuring up greatly rich notions of theatrical showmanship and fanciful decadence. Fortunately, his debut album doesn’t disappoint in this respect.
The warped indie-rock of PlaytOh has put them at the forefront of the Cork music scene. Now they're poised to take on the world. Interview by Tanya Sweeney.
When considering the Wallflowers, it's almost too easy to refer to the bizarre genetic accident that has befallen Jakob Dylan, son of Bob. Fortunately for him, he appears not to have inherited his father’s crumpled, imperfect looks. Instead, he sports the symmetric, excruciatingly photogenic looks of a latter-day Adonis. On the other hand, it also seems that Jakob has also not inherited his father’s flair for crafting a heart-stopping hit.
The Magic Numbers, hailing from New York (via Trinidad), trade in classic West Coast vibes, and it’s precisely this springy, spirited outlook that will probably see them denounced by misery gut purists as low-calorie, happy-clappy fluff. For those in the know however, The Magic Numbers bears all the hallmarks of a soon-to-be-classic.
It has been said that, the more opulent and distinctive the surroundings, the more memorable the gig. Correspondingly, the various performances from Other Voices: Songs From A Room are among the most delightful and remarkable committed to RTE’s archives.
As we’ve come to expect, a Queens Of The Stone Age album means a slightly foreboding, twisted journey to the heart of darkness. ‘In My Head’ isn’t quite the sharp-toothed monster that their previous single ‘Little Sister’ is, but it still bears the hallmarks of a brutal yet brilliant track – manly guitars, primal drums and a slightly ominous bassline.
It may be grim Oop North, but this single suggests otherwise. As the latest in Manchester’s line of highly ambitious hopefuls, Engineers have already mastered the art of sky-scraping, celestial wonderment. As well as doffing their collective caps to fellow Mancs Elbow and Doves, this single owes much to the expansive, melancholic leanings of Spiritualized and Mercury Rev.
As we’ve come to expect, a Queens Of The Stone Age album means a slightly foreboding, twisted journey to the heart of darkness. ‘In My Head’ isn’t quite the sharp-toothed monster that their previous single ‘Little Sister’ is, but it still bears the hallmarks of a brutal yet brilliant track – manly guitars, primal drums and a slightly ominous bassline.
This debut single from Dublin three-piece Crumb is a nicely zippy, hearty song that should set them apart from Ireland’s wave of indie contenders. While the bands around them lose their heads attempting to be big and clever, this band of merry men get down to the semi-serious business of writing three minute pop-rock gems.
They don’t call him the Mighty Stef for nothing – brimming with showmanship and out-on-a-limb theatrics, this double A-side is the perfect marriage of knowing, indie melody and uplifting, crowd-pleasing pop. ‘Liars’ gives the Nolan Sisters a wry nod (as you do), while on first impression ‘Prayer For The Broken Hearted’ sounds as though Nick Cave found the happy pills (and cabaret).
Say what you will about these over-styled upstarts – they can certainly deliver the tunes. Greased with a generous slick of sexed-up ‘80s vigour and keyboard-electronica, it’s fairly easy to see where those Killers comparisons stemmed from. Like their indie brethren, The Bravery excel in ambitious, forceful, intricately textured anthems.
Who ever thought that understated simplicity could be so damn beguiling? The ever-unassuming Archer came up trumps with this hookish single last year, and now that it’s been afforded the Steve Osbourne sheen, ‘Boy Boy Boy’ positively shimmers with summery, uplifting jollity.
They might still be loved up, but on record at least, Tabitha and Vinny seem to have lost that lovin’ feeling. Where once their music was ambient, awash with atmospherics and dreamy laziness, ‘You’re So Good’ is pacey and strangely upbeat; a nicely measured brew of peppy pop and taut, gruff rock riffs.
Er…ya wha’? You’d be forgiven for thinking that Ms Church had become a professional holidaymaker/clubber/tabloid botherer of late, so actual evidence of musical output here might surprise a few. If you’re hoping to hear the voice of an angel, you’d be sorely mistaken (if not a little bit tragic), as Char has well and truly put those ‘Pie Jesu’ years behind her.
Boasting a prowess and confidence that belies their young age, The Marshal Stars certainly live up to expectation following their high-profile recording/publishing deals.
Michael John’s rock-blues vocals offset the weighty force of the song’s grunge-rock leanings, and while the tune bounces with ambition and virility, the overall effect is nicely grounding and uncomplicated.
Tales of Thomas Walsh’s exquisite, Beatles-esque songwriting bent have already been well-documented on these pages, and this latest single comes up trumps. Walsh is about two degrees of separation (literally) from the likes of Air, Beck, Paul McCartney and Aimee Mann, and boy does it show. Laden with summery strings and plodding with an endearing strain of psychedelia, this single brings to mind the cheerful, sanguine likes of the Beach Boys. It’s nice to be nice alright, but it’s even better to be brilliant.
What with her choice Donnybrook location, regular Withnail & I themed evenings and marauding three year old cocker spaniel, comedian Tara Flynn could scarcely have a more ideal home. "I'm almost a little jealous of myself" she tells Tanya Sweeney. Photography by Cathal Dawson.
Magician to the stars Keith Barry reveals all about succeeding in Hollywood, performing for Justin Timberlake, Paris Hilton and Jack Osbourne, being given his own MTV show, and the perils of his orthodontically hazardous work with bullets. Interview by Tanya Sweeney. Photos by Graham Keogh.
The Hives’ irrepressible Howlin’ Pelle Almqvist talks to Tanya Sweeney about the band’s uproarious live shows, their most Spinal Tap moment to date, and how they keep their white suits in pristine shape throughout the rigours of the festival season
Aside from the obvious, one of the benefits of being in an outfit that sells 38 million albums, I should imagine, would be the chance to work with a reassuringly pricey roll-call of producers. For his first solo project, ex-Cranberries guitarist and writer Noel Hogan has recruited an impressive line-up of sonic doctors, among them Marius De Vries, Stephen Street and Matt Vaughan.
Do you want the good or the bad news first? Here’s the bad news: Christmas came and went, the goose got fat and the bean counters at EMI got plain tetchy. Paralysed by self-doubt and pressure, Coldplay set in motion the album that was to make or break them. How impressive and honorable, then, that this is their most hearty, ambitious and effortlessly striking work to date. But as we all know, nothing good ever comes easy.
Having grown up in Scunthorpe, Stephen Fretwell found his muse – and mates like Elbow and Doves – in Manchester. And the record company haven't even asked him to get his hair cut.
Nova Scotia, then, is a somewhat curious offering, and opens with the upbeat, pounding ‘Sadness’, a disorienting number given the band’s penchant for sombre, dewy atmospherics. It’s also a surprise to find that ‘She’s Not Coming Back’ was actually written not about the rotting of an amorous relationship, but the media circus surrounding the death of Paula Yates.
Still, if the band’s remaining members felt tentative about writing the album, they sure have a funny way of not showing it.
The dramatic announcement last week that the Irish Record Music Assocation was planning to sue 17 individuals the association has identified as "serial file-sharers" sent shock waves through the industry. IRMA chief executive Dick Doyle explains the background to to the move. Report by Tanya Sweeney.
In all, YES! is an unexpected joy, a heady, discombobulating cocktail of rock opera, obstinate punk and feel-good dance vibes. Ignore, if you will, the fact that Do Me Bad Things were ‘discovered’ by the same people that ‘discovered’ The Darkness. For all its calorific riffing and Rocky Horror-esque psychedelia, the true beauty of this record is its newness (as opposed to the novelty) factor. ‘Liv Ullman On Drums’ (featuring, bizarrely, Tom Shotton on drums) is an incredible ragout of ‘70s cop show theme music with hair metal, while ‘Time For Deliverance’ is a spine-tingling AC/DC inspired-Broadway musical number.
For all the romanticism and swoonsome sentiment, Baxter’s sound is
frightfully muscular. Aided tonight by a string quartet, his set is bracing
and uplifting in spades. Predictably, ‘Half A Man’ builds to a swooping
crescendo, ‘The Moon & Me’ is brimming with vitality and substance, while
his heartfelt rendition of ‘Almost There’ is almost unbearably perfect. As
it was always meant to be, ‘My Declaration’ is an inspiration, intensely
stirring the senses with little more than a perfect falsetto and a string
quartet.
For all the romanticism and swoonsome sentiment, Baxter’s sound is frightfully muscular. Aided tonight by a string quartet, his set is bracing and uplifting in spades. Predictably, ‘Half A Man’ builds to a swooping crescendo, ‘The Moon & Me’ is brimming with vitality and substance, while his heartfelt rendition of ‘Almost There’ is almost unbearably perfect. As it was always meant to be, ‘My Declaration’ is an inspiration, intensely stirring the senses with little more than a perfect falsetto and a string quartet.
For all the romanticism and swoonsome sentiment, Baxter’s sound is
frightfully muscular. Aided tonight by a string quartet, his set is bracing
and uplifting in spades. Predictably, ‘Half A Man’ builds to a swooping
crescendo, ‘The Moon & Me’ is brimming with vitality and substance, while
his heartfelt rendition of ‘Almost There’ is almost unbearably perfect. As
it was always meant to be, ‘My Declaration’ is an inspiration, intensely
stirring the senses with little more than a perfect falsetto and a string
quartet.
For all the romanticism and swoonsome sentiment, Baxter’s sound is
frightfully muscular. Aided tonight by a string quartet, his set is bracing
and uplifting in spades. Predictably, ‘Half A Man’ builds to a swooping
crescendo, ‘The Moon & Me’ is brimming with vitality and substance, while
his heartfelt rendition of ‘Almost There’ is almost unbearably perfect. As
it was always meant to be, ‘My Declaration’ is an inspiration, intensely
stirring the senses with little more than a perfect falsetto and a string
quartet.
As Joy Division, and then New Order, Bernard Sumner, Peter Hook and Stephen Morris have been responsible for some of the most spellbinding, groundbreaking and downright brilliant music of the past twenty-five years. With their new album Waiting For The Sirens' Call in the top 10, the legendary trio here sound-off about the legions of bands they’ve influenced, Madchester, Ian Curtis, 24 Hour Party People, Bez, Gwen Stefani, and why they intend to continue their quest for sonic innovation for some time yet.
In a world largely punctuated with angular, upturned-collar punk riffery, Hal are a glittering exception. For an audience weaned largely on scruffy garage angst, Hal stands alone as an affable, nicely hazy sort of record. This is the kind of gloriously textured album that confounds expectation and subtly surprises with every track.
Tanya Sweeney meets You’re A Star judge, DIY practitioner and Thai food enthusiast Hazel Kaneswaren in her laidback Co. Cavan abode. Photography by Cathal Dawson.
After being dropped by a major label, Detroit rocker Brendan Benson is overjoyed with his current status as the Motor City's hippest performer – just don't mention that Jack White connection.
A former drug dealer, he’s been shot at nine times and lived to tell the tale, emerging as one of the most controversial and uncompromising figures in rap. But there's more to 50 Cent than the popular legend suggests. For a start, there’s a new commercial edge to the music, as his US and Irish number one album The Massacre demonstrates. Plus, as one of the new faces of Reebok’s ‘I Am What I Am’ campaign, he’s taken to the role of cultural icon with considerable zest. Oh, and besides, he’s a bit of a wow with the ladies.
Engineers’ debut mini-album, Folly, indicated a love of all things arcane and prog, and their self-titled LP honours this tradition nicely. Coming across for all the world like a post-apocalyptic Mercury Rev, or a Zen-like Air, Engineers have mastered a wondrous union of adventuresome, obtuse sound-scapes and autumnal calm.
By all accounts, Willy Mason lives out of a van, which is currently stationed in California while he embarks on his European tour. Listening to his minimalist set packed with worldly, well-travelled gems, it certainly shows. It being his first Irish show, Mason is predictably a little tipsy (“Hell, I even drink like an American,” he drawls). Although he has become something of a media darling of late, he seems slightly disoriented by tonight’s rapturous reception.
Damien Dempsey has battled his way centre stage, winning the support of luminaries as diverse as Morrissey, Robert Plant, Sinéad O'Connor, Larry Mullen and Brian Eno along the way. Now with the release of his third album Shots, he is poised to make a major breakthrough. Interview by Tanya Sweeney. Photos by Cathal Dawson.
TV presenter, stand-up and all-round gifted wit and raconteur Dara O'Briain has quietly become one of the major Irish success stories in Britain over the past few years. In a rare in-depth interview, The Panel presenter here discusses stardom in the UK, The Killers, Colin Farrell, Michael Parkinson, RTE, Sinn Féin and that ringing endorsement from a certain Samuel L. Jackson. interview Tanya Sweeney photos Liam Sweeney
Who was it that said that beauty is a double-edged sword? True, it could be all too easy to denounce Mainline as six pretty boys, looking for all the world like a band of spruced-up Fonzies. Luckily their sound tells a different and much more substantial story.
On first impression Making Music So You Don’t Have To is a ticklish, impulsive body of work, but its happy, functional marriage of strings, piano and guitars hints that the band have played nice, taken their hyperactivity medication and developed the album into a gratifyingly mature, ambitious and reflective work.
Fall Down Seven Times, Stand Up Eight is by all accounts an album that has been in the making for several months, and boy does it sound it. Left to marinade in its own splendid creative juices, the 66e sound has morphed from something cutesy and introspective into a glorious sonic sprawl, with vertiginous climaxes and windswept hooks.
Lest you think that The Kills are a one-hit wonder, this sophomore album signals a further move into malevolent, dark territory, and their sound is all the better for it. Dabbling in dense, nihilistic atmospherics as championed by Joy Division, No Wow is gloriously twisted and angular.
Scratch the skin of any Irish chick-lit queen and you’ll find a history of depression, alcoholism, low self-esteem and late blooming – especially if that novelist’s name is Marian Keyes. One of this country’s biggest selling fiction writers, Keyes talks about how she freed herself from poverty-stricken theocratic 1980s Ireland, took a leap of faith and found her voice in print. Not to mention M&M withdrawal, Cecelia Ahern, neo feminism and Anthony Kiedis. Interview: Tanya Sweeney. Photography: Cathal Dawson.
Her dad’s got the keys to St. Andrew’s Observatory, her mum’s texting to say she’s just seen Prince William playing hockey, and her new album Eyes To The Telescope is currently bewitching audiences throughout Britain. Things could hardly be better for Scots singer-songwriter KT Tunstall.
Some Cities rages with a certain urgency, the sounds of a stolen car ride, charging from the outset with ‘Some Cities’, a thumping, forceful track that impressively kicks off proceedings. However, after this, the album is ripe with lush, pastoral texture, and is Doves’ most uplifting and thoroughly confident work to date.
Carlsberg don’t do comebacks, but if they did, it would probably go a little something like this one. Some bands just deserve to be resurrected, and Kerbdog are very much one of them.
With a little help from peers like Johnny Moy and Primal Scream, Mainline look like animating the Irish scene with some long overdue black-shades-and-scuzz-rock sleaze.
Badly Drawn Boy would be proud – Q, aka Colm Quearney has decided to flout convention by drumming up an altogether more sunny, colourful strain of acoustica. With its lilting trumpets and upbeat vibe, ‘Baby Lets Dance’ is a hugely endearing, flavoursome number, and proves that Quearney has come a long way since his days in Lir.
Fans of Bell X1, Damien Rice and Mundy may well be familiar with Cooke’s unique brand of shimmering rock. Like his one-time gigging buddies, Cooke does a neat line in understated emotive acoustic rock, and this EP is gilded with intimacy and introspection.
Medulla left people lost for words - in the best possible way - and this single honours Bjork’s tradition of marrying complexity with atmospheric esoterica. As one of the album’s more accessible tracks, ‘Who Is It’ is the perfect gateway into Bjork’s wonderful, if a little warped, world.
Although it sounds as though it was conceived in a Tarantino-esque netherworld, this EP was in fact recorded largely in the deepest darkest wilds of Donnybrook.
Forget those Keane comparisons; Thirteen Senses are sounding more like Starsailor as each day passes. Despite this affliction, this single is startlingly accomplished, and boasts the type of production that suggests their label is grooming them for success of Coldplay proportions.
Previously, The Used were more notable for harbouring a frontman that, like, y’know, used to date Kelly Osbourne. Laughable tabloid celebrity aside, this is a splendid, chaotic sound which marries the forceful energy of Incubus to the kind of aggravated assault familiar to fans of At The Drive In.
How nice, if a little surprising, to find the Chemical Brothers still flourishing creatively after a decade of electro releases. This year sees the duo move into hip-hop territory.
‘The band most likely to do a Franz Ferdinand in 2005!’ proclaims a UK music weekly. This single tells a different story. Bloc Party go one further than the usual flotsam of Joy Division-inspired noiseniks and combine their angular guitar-based funk/punk with a certain amount of heartfelt sentiment.
Buoyed by a blast of fresh air, James Yorkston’s new single is a rousing track that evokes the alpine freshness of Nick Drake and his folky ilk. As with the album, Just Beyond The River, ‘Shipwreckers’ packs little sonic punch, yet its comforting, organic strains make for enchantingly emotional stuff. As far as soul-soothing sounds go, Yorkston is on to a true winner here.
Having successfully avoided submersion into Tim DeLaughter’s Polyphonic Spree, New York-based psych-rockers Secret Machines are now touring with The Chemical Brothers and being widely cited as one of the hottest bands on the US underground.
Armed with the sonic verve and drive of a battalion of horsemen, this debut album is a staggering wake-up call that not only delivers on its early promise, but also suggests that greater things are yet to come.
They got knocked down, but they got up again – Dublin rockers 66E have weathered their setbacks and are now attracting serious attention for their epic soundscapes, which critics have likened to the work of Mercury Rev, Doves and Radiohead.
Though few performers can carry off the Casio/solo-guitar/funny-banter combo (just ask Kittser), Rhys has mastered it with startling ease. He mumbles his random anecdotes, punctuated by odd cricket or ocean sound from his trusty Casio… the whole effect sounds not unlike Neosupervital rousing the comedic spirit of Andy Kaufman.
While The Great Destroyer is a much more straightforward rock record, there is certainly still much to be admired in Parker and Sparhawk’s muted chemistry. Their cuddly intimacy has given way to a much more charged sound.
If you ever wondered how Slash’s legendary guitar solos would go down without the requisite fog of cigarette smoke in these post-ban environs, the short answer tonight is; they don’t. Shrugging off the rules with enviable elan, the ex-Guns’n’Roses guitarist is tonight doing what he does best – flouting convention and delivering the type of riffs for which big hair and a smattering of menacing looking tattoos are almost required.
Though a charity gig hardly makes for the perfect barometer, it is still perpetually astounding to note the evolution (or devolution?) of Damien Rice’s live audiences.
It used to be a dentist’s surgery and the interior décor might generously be described as “quixotic”, but The Chalets’ Paula Cullen wouldn’t dream of departing her well-populated Walkinstown residence.
They may not fit neatly alongside the sensations currently pouring out of London, but fresh-faced English rockers Thirteen Senses are nonetheless still brewing up a storm on the UK indie scene.
Lifted from what is arguably his most aesthetically pleasing album to date, The Lyre Of Orpheus, Breathless is ripe with poetic finery and endless elegance. Although some prefer Caves tortured, writhing energy, this single proves that he can also turn his hand to a splendidly tender and touching acoustic love song. By contrast, There She Goes, My Beautiful World is a more upbeat though no less affecting affair, marrying Caves sombre baritone with the joyful sound of the London Community Gospel Choir. Predictably, its a near-perfect moment of life-affirming splendour.
Given certain external factors (killer football game on the box, torrential rain), the Village boasts quite a respectable crowd on this midweek night. Granted, the room is populated largely by a chattering mass of posturing students, but they make an appreciative crowd for Tipperary four-piece The Ens nonetheless.
Robbie Williams has a hell of a lot to answer for. Nowadays, every trained chump in the charts feels that they too can have a stab at credible solo stardom (and bagging an unspeakable amount of money from a major label).
Northern rockers Therapy? are back in the saddle with their tenth studio album Never Apologise, Never Explain – and as Andy Cairns tells Tanya Sweeney, their rabble rousing punk ethic remains as sharply ingrained as ever.
Okay, so the anodyne tune itself might not sound out of place on a PJ & Duncan album, but as ever, it’s Mike Skinner’s wry observation of the complicated mating rituals of middle England that gives the single its impetus.
A rocked-up cover of the Bing Crosby classic is enough to instil fear into the heart of even the most dewy-eyed of Yuletime fans, but fortunately Juno Falls pull it off with surprising gusto.
Just when you thought we’d lost Marshall Mathers to the dark side following his Oscar win (for ‘Lose Yourself’), he confounds all expectations by pulling a playful, wonderfully infantile track out of the air.
Twinkly piano? Check. Choir-boy falsetto vocals? Check. Windswept sentimentality? Check. Keane are turning out to be something of a one trick pony, but when the trick is this good, no-one really seems to mind.
A certain music magazine has, amusingly, dubbed Pete Doherty the coolest person in rock. Apparently, countless court dates and a debilitating junk habit are back in vogue again.
In theory, Ireland’s best loved pop strumpet is in a perfect position to breathe some youthful life into the stuffy sound of the tenors, but unfortunately, Samantha misses the mark by a country mile.
In theory, Ireland’s best loved pop strumpet is in a perfect position to breathe some youthful life into the stuffy sound of the tenors, but unfortunately, Samantha misses the mark by a country mile.
Lifted from what is arguably his most aesthetically pleasing album to date, The Lyre Of Orpheus, ‘Breathless’ is ripe with poetic finery and endless elegance.
Having lived a peripatetic existence for several years, Katell Keineg has now settled in Dublin and is earning deserved kudos for her moody brand of arty acoustica.
Overall, this live album, recorded during Dublin’s Fringe Festival, is a wondrous, heady clash of strings, horns calypso jazz-pop and sexed up cabaret.
True love waits and all, but for the third album, I’d suggest a return to the bedroom studio…and maybe he should bring a couple of birds in tow to really loosen things up.
Far from the misanthropic character of lore, Tommy Tiernan is in fact a remarkably upbeat performer with a spring in his step and a whole host of new material to debut on his upcoming Loose tour. “Life is good, God is great and tay is hot!” he tells Tanya Sweeney.
Wainwright reels the audience in with his vulnerable, tragic songwriting, then makes his moist-eyed audience howl when he exclaims that he never much fancied the bloke for whom his songs were written anyway (“he wasn’t much into boys…but he did like singers,” he muses slyly).
Paul Brady and Eddi Reader are raving about his work, and his album is surging up the charts – but Ireland’s latest singer-songwriter sensation Declan O’Rourke is still making his own breakfast.
As always, the Scissor Sisters are ever so generous with their B-sides…a funky Junkie XL remix of ‘Mary’, and a rather Elton-ified version of Franz Ferdinand’s ‘Take Me Out’.
Currently soundtracking various anti-Bush TV soundbites (of course), this version of the single takes almost a full three minutes to kick in, but once it does, it makes for pretty anthemic listening.
Long gone are the days when the Donnas were perfect teen-movie soundtrack fodder. As the fair maidens of new hair-metal, they’re a little like the missing link between Angus Young and Courtney Love.
There’s something inherently grating about The Strokes’ dedication to being studiously cool, yet all is forgiven when they can bang out such accomplished tunes.
I’m still trying to figure out what the title means, but aside from that, this single is regular Hives fare – 2 minutes of E numbers-fuelled mayhem, welded to a distinctly infectious killer hook.
Taken from their wondrous sophomore album of the same name, ‘Porcelain’ is a seething, ornate and riotous work, though it’s also strangely poppy and palatable.
Scandinavian alterna queen Stina Nordenstam is determined to keep the hype to a minimum and let her music do the talking – and so far the plan is paying off in spades.
Westerberg’s fifth full-length album is curiously anodyne, an uninspired throwback to a time when those hopelessly bland, three-chord wonders were all the rage.
Like most of Smith’s music, the album sounds on occasion like the work of a man carrying out a war in his own mind, yet is also tinged with calm and life-affirming joy.
Many songs reflect his usual mix of hope, frustration and weary resignation to life’s injustices.
American Idiot is a triumph of noise over resonance, and it’s almost as though the last 10 years have barely happened. These punks are unlikely to make your day.
When Graham Hopkins found himself on the other side of Warner Music Ireland’s door, by rights it should have signalled a downturn in the drummer-turned-singer’s fortunes. Not so.
Since the release of their debut album Head On, Halite have also morphed, Foo Fighters stylee, from the singular vision of one multi-instrumentalist to a more ensemble effort.
Where the Redneck Manifesto appear brimming with intent and fury, the music of The Redneck’s Richie Egan’s other vehicle, Jape, is beautifully lilting and celebratory.
Music Review | Live
28 Sep 2004
Tanya Sweeney
It’s little wonder that Canadian singer-songwriter Ron Sexsmith is being treated like some kind of prodigal son tonight. After all, he is more than qualified to join the ranks of Ireland’s acoustic army. Having spent much of last year on these shores, Sexsmith has learned what makes Irish audiences tick.
With Franz Ferdinand sweeping all before them, Tanya Sweeney talks to Domino Records’ latest star in waiting – and favourite son of Ireland’s singer-songwriter community.
An image-savvy frontman with a parapsychology obsession – Chuzzle lead-singer Darragh Downes is injecting some much-needed colour into the local independent scene.
“They’re this year’s Toploader,” argued a colleague upon the release of The Thrills’ debut album last year. He was wrong, but he was typical, The Thrills have had more than their fair share of detractors.
Otherwise known as the foursome from Athlone who ruffled Hugh Hefner’s marabou feathers (when they adopted his famous Playboy logo as their own), Bunny’s debut single ‘Fearless’, released last year, gave listeners an interesting taste of things to come. The good news? Slick Corporate Music delivers on this promise.
Having lost his way for a bit, Liam Howlett is back with a new enthusiasm and a new sound for The Prodigy. “No one has filled our shoes – now we’ve come back to tread on everyone else’s feet,” he tells Tanya Sweeney.
Having spent much of last year touring the world, Ghosts paints pictures of scenic journeys, newly visited cities, and as such is gilded with a freshness and lust for life that can only be evoked by someone seeing much of the world for the first time.
As the object of the most hotly contested A&R battle for quite a while, it’s now time for Dubliner Cathy Davey to put her sizeable label advance where her mouth is.
It always appeared as though The Charlatans were very much of their time, a paean to the wayward Britpop hedonism of the early nineties, but their live show demonstrates that the songs are as culturally relevant now as they ever were.
Something Ilk display the tender shoots of what promises to be a hugely illustrious career. Hype can often be akin to the kiss of death for a new artist, but Davey has the sheer talent and the lust for life to kiss right back.
They’re different, they’re fun, they have their critics but more and more people seem to love them. But enough about the trams; it’s all aboard for an interview with another Dublin
sensation Republic of Loose.
It’s certainly plain to see how their teaming of sentimental, wide-eyed AOR and neo-trad power choruses is a hit with the audience, and they are indisputably talented, yet there is still something about the Corrs that strikes me as somewhat bloodless. Perhaps it’s me, for I haven’t seen an audience in the Point so animated and enthusiastic in ages.
What looks like a rather finely crafted album on paper ultimately fails to materialise once heard. In today’s oversubscribed R&B circles it takes more than a six-pack and an A-list mentor to make the magic happen.
Displaying more balls than Old Trafford on a Saturday afternoon, Velvet Revolver’s music is much more than the sum of its parts – and that’s saying something.
Either we’re intoning for the good weather of last year - we’ve been thoroughly spoiled with great outdoor shows this summer - but there’s no chance whatsoever of picking up the much coveted farmer’s sunburn at this year’s Oxegen. If you thought to bring an umbrella to this year’s festival, you’re certainly ahead of the game…
One of the star attractions of Bud Rising, Badly Drawn Boy – AKA Damon Gough – explains his special connection with audiences in this country and his grudging regard for pop talent shows on the box words Tanya Sweeney
Music Review | Live
5 Jul 2004
Tanya Sweeney
The Datsuns have been riding high in the band-it’s-cool-to-love stakes.
Despite the overblown hype that has propelled the band to tabloid rock greatness, the Datsuns appear ungoverned by fad. Quite the opposite: their decidedly non-trendy brand of taut 70’s primordial rock wins tonight’s audience over.
Music Review | Live
1 Jul 2004
Tanya Sweeney
As Metallica take to the stage amid a cacophony of fireworks, it seems that, despite their sonic brutality, their slick show is beginning to feel a little…well, inauthentic. In fact, it feels a little like Imax…but with a much better soundtrack.
This may be their first foray onto a major label, but Babatikidido is still a typically unconventional project.. As the soundtrack to avant-garde choreographer Merce Cunningham’s 50th Gala Performance, this three-track instrumental wonder is appropriately fluid and dramatic.
‘Stone Love’ could have gone either way, yet for some bizarre reason, Stone’s low-light, richly moody music works perfectly, proving that you can never get too much of a good thing.
Credit for Stone may be long overdue; with any luck, ‘Stone Love’ will be remembered for showing the R&B set how it’s really done.
It’s a shame, really, given her overwhelming potential, that Milian has chosen to emulate Beyoncé so pointedly, not only in appearance, but in musical bent. Ultimately, It’s About Time suffers from uncreative, cheap-sounding production; a paradox, given its almost slavish dedication to the teachings of Pharrell Williams. A scantily-clad teen popstrel is a many splendoured thing; why they insist on putting out so many stunningly mediocre records remains a mystery.
Taking the DIY ethic a step further than many, Alan Roe, aka Roesy, devised a rather creatively impressive way to raise money to record his album Only Love Is Real.
Taking ‘Wuthering Heights’ and giving it a flamenco spin may appear an ill-advised move at first, yet the Galway native’s stab at reworking the Kate Bush classic works out surprisingly well.
Polly’s lusty falsetto shriek, compounded with a snarling guitar riff, results in a three-minute visceral thrill, and a wonderful return to form for one of rock’s true deities.
At once exuberant, uplifting and highly charged, ‘Headlites’ is blessed with a truly kick-arse chorus, while the fiery B-side ‘The Beautiful Mission’ is worthy of a release of its own.
Sometimes at tribute gigs, the air is heavy with the sound of befuddled musicians hammering out half-learned covers, in an effort to be heard over the cacophony of fans trying to outdo each other with tales about ‘back in the day’...
Once upon a time, it was almost too easy to denounce Gabrielle as an anodyne chanteuse who simply got lucky with her radio-friendly hit ‘Dreams’ 11 years ago...
Home-recording buff, culinary wizard and fully paid-up member of the local indie cognoscenti – welcome to the cultured residence of turn singer Ollie Cole.
Reasons to be cheerful…the often-fickle world of indie appears to be facing an about turn; hey, things are even undergoing a facelift round Merseyside way. Liverpool’s newest young things The Zutons are striking out on their own, easily evading notions of scouse copyism with a collision of taut, wild-eyed rock and oddly belligerent soul.
The elements for an Enrique-lite pop act are all in place: a cutesy, denim-clad, doe-eyed young buck sings faux-touching, unassuming power ballads laced with pop, R&B and doo-wop.
Armed with a hood-load of forceful character and a (Ben Sherman) pocket full of poesies, Mike Skinner has single-handedly altered the British urban/garage landscape
By his own admission, Oklahoma-born Johnny Dowd lived the textbook American childhood, “driving in Daddy’s car, falling in love and listening to the radio”
By his own admission, Oklahoma-born Johnny Dowd lived the textbook American childhood, “driving in Daddy’s car, falling in love and listening to the radio”
They’re the unsigned bands who are currently storming the Irish charts with little aid from the mainstream music industry – meet Morello, Transmitter and Ginseng.
Dunno who this Arthur Molloy is, but he has evidently inspired a record of such sheer beauty, sincerity and substance, he must be a fine and glorious fellow indeed.
If SS800 lived in London, they could probably give the industry quite a shot in the arm…instead, they still reside in Cork where they remain one of the cornerstones of an increasingly diverse and vibrant scene.
One more time with feeling, Tanya Sweeney pays her respects to sex and the city, a television show which had a profound impact on sex, fashion and female singledom. and we haven’t entirely seen the last of Carrie and co. either…
Already a favourite at Autamata live shows, ‘Jellyman’ further showcases the collaborative talents of maverick producer Ken McHugh and the gonna-be-huge Cathy Davey.
Having provided background music for a gazillion middle-aged dinner parties the world over, it was always going to be interesting to see how Norah Jones’ particular brand of intimate, sittin’-on-the-dock-of-the-Starbucks music would fare in the vast expanse of the Point.
A visit from Larry Harvey, creator of Nevada’s legendary Burning Man festival, looks set to be one of the highlights of Dublin’s forthcoming convergence weekend.
While nobody was looking, a silent revolution happened in the Irish music scene. Out of the singer-songwriter pact and shoegazing electro posse, a cross-breed sprang up..
“The time has come for me/To break out of the shell/I have to shout/That I’m coming out/I want the world to know/Got to let it show”…having passionately waxed lyrical in these very pages about The Vines, Snow Patrol and Kings Of Leon over the last few months, I was slightly surprised to find myself heading towards The Point for a Diana Ross gig.
They may be one twin sister down, otherwise things remain stubbornly unchanged in camp Múm. Recorded largely in a deserted lightkeeper’s house, Summer Make Good boasts appropriate titles such as ‘Hu Hviss – A Ship’, ‘Abandoned Ship Bells’and ‘Oh How The Boat Drifts’, and the overall effect is a tender, intimate exploration of heavenly, frosted soundscapes.
You could say that Goodtime John has his ducks all in a row at the moment.
Having released the well-received Brought Four Ways Out Of Town, John Cowhie found himself comfortably nestled within the city’s sometimes cliquish lo-fi community..
The boy Hannon can always be relied on to cobble together a cracking radio-friendly tune, and this is gladly no exception. As ever, Hannon’s honeyed vocals, ambitious production and expressive, masterful song-writing combine to stunning effect, and the result is an enchanting, catchy number that should serve only to consolidate Neil’s national treasure status.
After an intense A&R scrum, the much-lauded Haven released their emotional, hand-wringing debut Between The Senses amid clouds of ‘promising indie hopefuls’ plaudits.
Oooh, the single might come with all sorts of cute and interesting packaging, and the press release describes the band as being ‘stunning in the flesh’, but I suspect it’s all a diversion ploy.
In all honesty, is there any real point in validating, contextualising, or reviewing this music? Surely this has about as much to do with music as the launch of a new kid’s toy?
For The Vines, being heralded as ‘the next Nirvana’ could go either way.
It could be argued that describing Craig Nicholls as ‘the voice of a generation’ is perhaps a bridge too far – yet, with ‘Winning Days’, they certainly seem able to take such improbable expectation in their stride.
It would appear that The Long Stay’s Brendan Donnelly, Sean McAuley and Brendan McCullough are pretty much intent on keeping it country…kind of. First Collection is a set of sweet, slightly inoffensive new-country/acoustic offerings.
It’s time we saw a miracle/it’s time for something biblical’ – he might look like a Sid Vicious upstart, but when Matt Bellamy said he was hell-bent on creating the ultimate live spectacle, he wasn’t fucking joking.
Bristolian trip-hop may be somewhat far off the Zeitgeist but new Virgin signings Ilya manage to fuse the sound of their coven with both a timeless London cool and classic arthouse charm.
While Busted fans may marvel at the ‘innovative’ rock sounds on the album, the more discerning listener may well see through the production gimmicks and feel slightly shortchanged after the experience.
With Oscar hysteria in the air, Tanya Sweeney recalls the night she “gate-crashed”
hollywood a-list party – and survived to tell this tale of beauty and the beasts.
It may not be an ornate and highly charming church in Dingle, but something about the truly titanic line-up of the Other Voices launch, reduces the expansive Vicar St. venue to a kind of wonderfully intimate backbar.
With a name like that, you’d be forgiven for thinking that The West Seventies were an NYW haircut/leather jacket/ garage concoction. In fact, the band hail from the distinctly un-NYC environs of Dublin and Down.
What Courtney doesn’t know about life in the Hollywood fast lane (rehab, drugs charges, child custody battles) simply isn’t worth knowing. In her own words, her somewhat ironically-titled opus America’s Sweetheart contains ‘a lot of God and a lot of sex’.
Given the Hartnoll brother’s capacity for emotion and narrative within the often-restrictive confines of electro music, this is a somewhat insufficient and underwhelming collection.
Personally speaking, the death of the wonderful Elliott Smith was a major blow his year. I found out about his suicide through Ollie Cole, who had e-mailed me with a very succinct, “Elliott Smith is dead. He was my king”, on the day of his death.
If the band’s electrifying RDS performance was anything to go by, Linkin Park are consummate masters in rocking the kids ™. What is perhaps less obvious is that their particular brand of rock sometimes rings of a certain sterility and, in some places artlessness – nowhere more so than on this live album/DVD.
I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again…never before has the Irish scene been so accessible, familial, fertile and diverse. While this is definitely an encouraging situation, unfortunately, it is also a double-edged sword, and pretty soon, the question arises as to quality control.
The inescapable fact remains…while The Chalets are very much at home within the bosom of the Dublin music scene, had they been residing in London, New York or Detroit, they would be bleedin’ huge by now.
Dunno if there were too many Red Bulls in the backstage rider this evening, but something has given Thom Yorke wiiings. In fact, along with Thom’s frantic making-shapes-in-the-air dancing, there are many factors to indicate this is not a garden-variety Radiohead experience...
Radio has studiously ignored it but that doesn’t mean that Republic Of Loose’s ‘Girl i’m gonna fuck you up’ isn’t the best Irish single of the year. Tanya Sweeney meets the Dublin boys who just want to have fun.
Radio has studiously ignored it but that doesn’t mean that Republic Of Loose’s ‘girl i’m gonna fuck you up’ isn’t the best Irish single of the year. Tanya Sweeney meets the Dublin boys who just want to have fun.
Radio has studiously ignored it but that doesn’t mean that Republic Of Loose’s ‘Girl i’m gonna fuck you up’ isn’t the best Irish single of the year. Tanya Sweeney meets the Dublin boys who just want to have fun.
No matter which divide of the Poor Ole Britters debate you are on, this album is a highly anticipated offering, and no matter which way the wind blows, is on a fast track to the firing line.
Tanya Sweeney catches up with Ireland’s hardest partying rockers Snow Patrol to discuss on-the-road hi-jinks, the band’s hallowed status in the Scottish and Irish music scenes, and also bears witness to that long-awaited footie showdown with Thomastown under 15s.
It’s heart warming to note that some acts are thinking outside the box with regards to the usual gig experience, and bringing a little piece of (ghetto) heaven to the city.
The insurmountable fact remains that, while Longview probably have serious designs on Elbow’s crown, they come across as a slightly low-calorie version of Gene.
A brief encounter with Dido – author of multi-million-selling debut album No Angel and brand-newie Life For Rent – not to mention one of the nicest popstars you’re ever likely to meet.
As far as self-aggrandising and self-promotion goes, Love & Life is truly an exercise in excellence. Just don’t expect the tunes to be quite as inspirational.
With a self-recorded and self-released album – called simply O – Damien Rice has emerged as a major force in Irish music. But that’s just the start of it: the record is now in the charts in both the U.S. and the U.K., and with the kind of momentum he has generated, the feeling is that it might just go all the way.
Blotooth’s pretty-boy vocalist Myles O’Reilly certainly casts a presence onstage tonight, all six foot five of him, and it seems as though the band are undergoing a transformation of sorts.
Along with the likes of Jimmy Behan, Joan Of Arse and Daemien Frost, Estel are the much undervalued and underexposed anti-christs to the Frames, Mundy and Damien Rice’s hand-wringing preachings.
McGuinness has established himself as something of a retro antidote to Dublin’s modern-day, introspective singer songwriters – the emphasis, it would appear, is on making fun, psychedelic records, and looking damn fine while doing it.
David Swanson’s vocals and synthesiser are the glue that pull each song together, but the lack of the screech of a guitar is sorely needed to give these songs bite, or even a hint of personality.
Magnet are right up there with Jeff Buckley and Radiohead, not least because of Johansen’s ethereal, heart-swelling vocals and its perfect coupling with orchestral strings and digitised heartbeats.
Again, it is showcase nights like these that remind us of Irish music’s capacity to evolve and remain self-sufficient, without the clout of the industry which claims to wholeheartedly endorse the scene.
Here is an album that is effortlessly beautiful, devoid of emotional grandeur (or delusions thereof), yet is understated, simple and cool for all the right reasons.
Events take a downturn as, instead of the playful Beck/Weezer quirkiness we are expecting, the set seems formulaic, packed with three-chord, straight-up-and-down tracks, delivered as though the band are on autopilot.
Tanya Sweeney gets up early to bring you the best of the Sunday afternoon artists, including Nina Hynes, Kings of Leon, Jerry Fish, Cane 141, The Walls and Automata.
Dublin favourites Turn recently took to the highway for an Irish tour. Tanya Sweeney joined them for a trip to Limerick and an insight into what makes Ollie Cole and company tick.
It’s refreshingly pleasant to watch sets by bands that seem so thrilled and honoured to be playing on a decent stage in front of a healthy-sized audience.
She’s been a regular festival goer since she first attended Féile at the age of 14. Gemma Hayes waxes lyrical on the joys of those sprawling, big days out
It’s early days for the band, and although right now, it seems unlikely that they’re going to topple any Premier League outfits, the world is still very much their oyster and I’d venture that they’ll swallow it whole at some point.
Fortunately for The Thrills, the good news is that they have lived up to the hype and managed to bear the weight of expectation to deliver one of the finest, most delightfully crafted albums I’ve heard in a long time.
You might think that Dublin needs another acoustic-flavoured album on the market like it needs a SARS epidemic, yet this is a joyous mixed bag of intimate-sounding folk, upbeat indie and ’80s fused electronica.
Why do we look the way we do? Well, between me and you… we can blame it on the music! Eight movers and shapers on the Irish club, music and fashion scenes let us in on their secrets
aga Jazzist are undertaking the task of creating ultra modern, digitised music fused with jazz and, in smaller increments, latin, upbeat lounge and drum’n’bass.
Rounds is a cross-fertilisation of innovation and pop sensibility, and has a warmth and understated charm that many other obtuse, more indulgent knob-merchants would gladly sell their Powerbook for.
The success of The Frames, Juliet Turner and Damien Rice – amongst others has inspired a new do it yourself attitude among Irish musicians and bands, who are no longer prepared to wait for the imprimatur of a major label to get their records made. Here Hot Press presents a step by step guide to becoming a DIY record magnate. Words: Tanya Sweeney. Additional reporting: Jackie Hayden
The success of The Frames, Juliet Turner and Damien Rice – amongst others has inspired a new do it yourself attitude among Irish musicians and bands, who are no longer prepared to wait for the imprimatur of a major label to get their records made. Here Hot Press presents a step by step guide to becoming a DIY record magnate. Words: Tanya Sweeney. Additional reporting: Jackie Hayden
