A friend of mine who works in the music business in London recently received an unsolicited demo tape from an Irish band. Nothing exceptional in that alone, other than the fact that it had seventeen tracks on it and was accompanied by a note to the effect that tracks 5, 8 and 11 were, in the band s opinion, the best and should be listened to first. As far as I know, my mate is still waiting for a postal strike so he'll have time to listen to it.
It seems that no matter how often advice is handed out as to keeping tapes down to two, three or four tracks maximum, there are some who seem to blissfully ignore such wisdom. Either that or they feel they know better than everybody else, which is unlikely.
There are sound reasons why less is more when it comes to demo time. First of all, very few bands have more than a few great tracks anyway, even if they are dab hands at churning out the competent and the adequate. Secondly, few people in the business have time to listen to everything they get, so why make it unnecessarily hard for yourself? In fact, I've personally witnessed some A&R men slapping on a tape and whipping it off when the first 45 seconds of the first track failed to impress.
This fortnight's first tape falls neatly into this problematic category. It comes from Bosun who are based in Cork. It features eight songs, but what with having to wash my hair and all, I managed to listen to the first three only.
Bosun's main influences seem to be predominantly of the AOR variety. The accompanying photo shows four blokes with magnificent manes of hair, and they sound just like that too. They play and sing reasonably well, but it s really music by numbers with little or no imagination. Airodynamo is like The Final Countdown mark two, while the slow ballad Just Say So and the slightly heavier Bale Me Out are of a style that was MTV fodder around the mid-eighties.
Bosun need to lock away their record collection for a while and work on some truly original material if they want to count as contenders.
The town of Derry is home to Snake Farm, whose slightly psychedelic take on punk comes close to working if it were not for some dodgy histrionics in the vocal department. It strikes me that it's a case of a little too much too soon for Snake Farm who should fine tune what they do a little more before sending demos out. It's not that there's a lot wrong, just that a little more time and care could make them worth spending time with.
There s some neat guitar on Bungle Time and Be There Every Day , but the instrumental Snake Charm is too long and too repetitive for its own good, and some of the drumming starts to flag halfway through. It may be a lack of pre-recording rehearsal that makes a lot of their stuff sound uncomfortable, as if they are still struggling with the material, but that too can be resolved with time and effort.
The exuberantly youthful Dublin five-piece Aersprung seem to be two bands in one. They have clear, bright harmonies, seem very well rehearsed and their CD demo is very cleanly recorded. On the tracks Chooli Pearl and Mind they use an energetic, somewhat American approach, verging on pop-metal with a punky edge to the sound.
Then on Archangel and A Days Daze they drift more towards contemporary Britpop. In fact the latter veers towards boy band territory but with attitude. Overall, Aersprung exude a confidence that makes listening quite pleasurable. I m not convinced that any of the songs are of guaranteed hit potential, but it all adds up to an interesting, if at times confusing, mix. Ireland doesn t have a great track record for this kind of melodic rock with a solid rhythmic core to it, so they could be onto something quite intriguing if they develop it in the right direction and if they have the suss to make the right career decisions.
Sean and Seamus O Hara are two brothers from the hinterland of Tullamore who play competent folk songs that neither offend nor stimulate. Raising Cain is an adequate amorality tale about a troublemaker who somehow manages to escape divine retribution, but it lacks the kind of immediacy Christy Moore, say, would bring to such an idea. Down In The Glen is very similar in melody and structure and serves little purpose, while Peace In Our Time says nothing that Paul Brady's The Island hasn't said more eloquently.
The O Hara brothers might find their niche on the live folk scene, but they need to work a little harder at creating some memorable original material before venturing towards releasing a CD.
This week s lesson: Send nothing out to anyone unless you are genuinely convinced it's going to impress.