Julie Feeney, a willowy singer from Galway, writes weird, glitchy songs that sound like traditional airs scattered to the winds by a haywire radio transmitter. Her music feels dislocated and disconnected, as if in high orbit.
Some months ago Feeney released her debut album, 13 Songs. It was not, one might argue, the finest Irish record of 2005. Yet it was certainly the strangest, a languid carnival ride through a landscape populated by spectral vocals and creepy snatches of melody.
Feeney, as you will know, has won the inaugural Choice Music Prize, conceived of as a domestic alternative to the Mercury Prize.
Her victory prompted some arched eyebrows at Vicar St., but also a good deal of warm applause. It helped that the winner appeared genuinely floored by the news.
As she accepted the prize cheque – blown up to super-size it was reminiscent of something a lottery winner might take home – Feeney, all eyes and stray ringlets, opened her mouth, as though to speak.
What came out was a muted gasp of disbelief, then a torrent of thank-yous. Quivering at the podium, she was the indie Gwyneth Paltrow.
Before this, nine of the 10 nominees had been on stage, to perform highlights from their nominated LPs (The Chalets, favourites in many eyes, were supporting Kaiser Chiefs in Paris).
Watching so many acts in sequence, the audience may have discerned a hierarchy. Those on the cusp of mainstream success played with a cocky disregard for the actual event. Bell X1, for one, were clearly not bothered awfully whether they came home with a gong – the absence of award show nerves gave their turn an edge which the rest of the field struggled to equal. Duke Special, too, took the night in their stride, delivering an elegant suite of piano-bar torch songs.
Several hopefuls appeared to stumble. Hal are a wonderful studio band, but live, cannot match the multi-tracked splendour of their records. Cane 141, less gloweringly pointless than on their album, were neverthless guilty of trying too hard. Layering beats with xylophone and accordion, they presided over a dense electro-pop muddle.
The awards were MC-ed by Alison Curtis of Today FM and Cormac Battle, sometime frontman of Kerbdog and late night 2FM DJ. She has a ditzy shtick that can be charming. Battle, however, sometimes lacks subtlety and, tonight, he lacked grace. The double-act didn’t really come off – next year the organisers may consider re-thinking the format.