“When I’m lecturing, I talk to the students about how best to sell their work,” admits Peter McVeigh. “Seriously – you can literally see half of their hearts sink.”

Poacher, game-keeper, and (when his diary permits) pheasant too – McVeigh occupies a unique role in the local scene. As a music lecturer in a local college, a producer of increasing renown, and a singer-songwriter with a growing stockpile of work, the West Belfast man has spent the last decade gaining a hard-won perspective on life as a jobbing musician. His classes could do worse than take notes.
“I’m hopefully clear-eyed about it all,” he smiles. “I don’t think you can afford to be romantic about the music industry – especially these days. There are lots of good people out there, but there are also a lot of pitfalls. I think I’ve had my fair share of setbacks over the years, so it’s just common sense to take a more realistic view of things. I like to think of those experiences as having been beneficial – they helped me become a lot savvier – but, when I talk to my students, it’s important to understand the type of world you’re entering. It can save a lot of heartache later on.”
Before the steam has lifted off Peter’s tea it becomes clear we’re not dealing with a callow pop-fixated ingénue here. How much this impressive level-headedness can be attributed to some tough formative experiences with the industry machine is hard to tell. It could also be a result of his years manning barricades in the studio.
“I’ve come to realise that a producer is someone who tries to come across as impartial, but who isn’t,” he laughs. “There’s a disease called friendship that exists in bands. ‘The guitarist is a lovely guy, so we’re giving him a two-minute solo.’ It’s up to a producer to sort that kind of stuff out. Ironically enough, metal bands tend to be the best to work with – always found them to be lovely, open-minded people.”
Film directors hate it when you tell them their films ‘look good’ – do producers get annoyed when people assume all they do is mess around with the sound of a record?
“Yeah, it’s a misunderstanding of everything the job entails. The sound is the end-point really. There’s so much that goes on to get to that point – you’re involved with the lyrics, setting the mood, the tempo, deciding what moments are the big moments. It isn’t just making things louder or quieter – it’s fairly all-encompassing.”
There can be no question of the extent of Peter’s influence over his own solo material, of course.
His latest EP, Dancing On The Lights is, on the surface, a record of lush textures and fulsome choruses; dig a little deeper into the songs, however, and there’s a darkness and melancholy adding a pleasing twist to proceedings.
That it’s the work of a craftsman is in little doubt. Likewise, there’s a clear impression that rather than the culmination of something, these songs are a prelude.
“If I’m being honest, I’d prefer to have a publishing deal over a record deal,” he says. “All my ambitions are focused towards songwriting. Broadly speaking, a publishing deal shows you’re a long-term bet. You’re treated like an artist, someone with a sustainable career ahead of them. A record deal is a lot more glamorous, but you’re basically flavour of the month and once things start to dip, you’re binned. I’m not worried about being famous. I sang my songs because nobody else would, but I’d be happy enough in the background writing for other people. That way you grow as a writer: branch into country, into pop rock, even into jazz and metal if you like.”
 
Dancing On The Lights is out now.