It’s an overcast day when I meet Cian Godfrey outside P. Macs off Drury Street, the musician having returned to his hometown for Christmas. The London-based singer-songwriter is determined to propel Somebody’s Child into the international market, having signed with the label that brought us Passion Pit, Frenchkiss Records, and recorded the band’s debut in Hackney Studios.

Godfrey has built a profile since 2018, unveiling a string of addictive EPs (20-Something, Hope, Amongst Other Things, and Stay Sane). Fast-paced indie belters with booming choruses earned Somebody’s Child support slots with Kaiser Chiefs, Kodaline and more, but they’re itching to crack Europe and beyond.

“The band didn’t move, just myself,” Godfrey tells me, as we settle into a quiet booth. “Jesse’s in Wexford, Paddy lives in Howth, Dan's finishing college. Shay’s coming to London in May. We've had to broaden our horizons. Musicians need one of the major territories to be able to make a living, but this was a personal choice. Is there any point in moving out of my family home in Dublin if I’m forced to pay €900 in rent?”

Somebody's Child. Copyright Miguel Ruiz.

He’s now settling into Bethnal Green, in London’s north-east.

“I needed to grow as a person,” he concedes. “I definitely feel more independent. The hustle and bustle is good for me, in terms of energy, because I had two years of really struggling creatively during lockdowns. We tried to take writing as a full time job and yet only got maybe two songs released, which is just ridiculous,” he laughs. “I was a bit naive to think you could start at 9am with your coffee and write the best song.”

“In London, one in five people are in the arts,” Cian posits. “You feel like part of something, but you have to stretch to find that in Dublin - which is a shame considering how high we punch.” He’s more accustomed than most people to rejigging his life, having lived in Paris at a young age for his dad’s job in the OACD.

“My dad’s wicked smart and said the people he works with best always came from an engineering background, but I just fell into music college,” Cian offers, shrugging. “I gave myself a year after my degree to pursue music, and thankfully that worked.”

“I only pulled my socks up when I left,” he smiles. “It was formative for me. I was in the year with all the guys from Fontaines and The Academic so it was a very creative, competitive batch. I remember seeing Fontaines play for six people in tiny pubs, and then the next time I saw them was Alexandra Palace, which is crazy. I never had the motivation while I was there, but I remember there was one guy who was more of a prodigy than anyone else,” he shakes his head.

“Grian [Chatten] said he was going to make it over anybody, and now I can’t even recall his name! It’s so futile as an industry. It’s about being in a certain zeitgeist to take off nowadays. I was working with the guy Dermot Kennedy wrote with, and he said that the fusion of folk and hip-hop genres, which were huge on Spotify at the time, just worked. I was lucky to get a manager early on; I probably wouldn’t be doing this anymore if I hadn’t.”

Punchy singles and three EP releases nailed down the decades-spanning sound of Somebody’s Child, which began as a final year songwriting project for Cian in 2016.

“Our most recent EP was written in Bundoran, so the beach was a big inspiration. We had a sense that it didn’t do as well as we’d have liked because it wasn’t what people were expecting. Creatively, you need to forget about all the noise, and we’ve managed to do that with this album. I’m proud of the way it sounds, and that’s something you can’t pay for. It’s a vulnerable position; my whole life is basically in everyone else’s hands. It’s up to others to essentially decide the future trajectory of our career.”

Somebody's Child. Copyright Miguel Ruiz.

No pressure, then.

“Ireland’s forgiving if you made a mistake,” Cian concedes. “Having said that, there’s no avenue for alternative acts to break out here. None. It's a different generation. In the UK, the term ‘6 Music’ is recognisable as a specific sound. A band like us would be suffocated if we didn’t try to look elsewhere. We have people like Dan Hegarty, but it’s not like that’s getting the most listenership. You’re fighting against the grain all the time to survive. It’s tough to feel like you’re not what the industry wants. I’ve had such good times, but either way, I’m not bitter about it. Everyone’s supportive.”

Cian references Dublin’s TXFM, which began in 1997 as a pirate radio station.

“That was so good! I was so upset when it ended in 2016. I also really admire Hot Press, and how they support people who don’t have an avenue,” Godfrey continues (unprovoked, I swear). “It gives a sense of social proof. Everyone has to live on a certain amount of pride and purpose, and I think you guys fulfil that for some acts.”

The steady growth of Somebody’s Child’s streaming numbers are partially what got them noticed by Frenchkiss Records, with over 239,000 monthly listeners.

“I try not to look at stats and how others are doing,” Cian replies, sagely. “Spotify for artists can be toxic. I know people who don’t get the support, and it’s killer. We’re lucky to be featured on the playlists, but it may all be algorithmic soon. TikTok is the first platform I feel too old for,” he laughs. “I have to adapt. It can work for certain independent people who deserve to get noticed, but then again, all I hear is that major labels only care about TikTok now. Some people go viral and it turns into streams, but then how many of those listeners will actually buy tickets?

“If all you’re trying to do is be catchy for a 30-second clip, is there any art left in the long-form of an album?” he asks. “I’m not gonna be the old man that goes against it. Everything evolves, but TikTok is hard for me because I hate videoing myself.”

Some of the band’s older material needed its place on their debut album, with new visuals for July 2020 single ‘We Could Start A War’.

“We were trying to pretend like we didn’t need ‘Hold Me Like You Wanna’ and ‘Jungle’ for a long time, but they put us on the map digitally. We were so proud of them when they came out. Originally, they were released with no manager, no label and no backing. ‘We Could Start A War’ was made with fifty quid artwork.”

Photo credit: Jim Fuller.

Fast forward and they’re working with hugely in-demand producer Mikko Gordon. Cian recently spent a number of weeks penning Somebody’s Child LP2 in Wales.

“It’s sounding quite different. We want to expand, but sharing a raw first album coming out of the gates shows who we wanted to be. We finally got a producer who could understand our sound from the beginning, and knew how to structure it. Mikko’s just been nominated for a Grammy for the new Arcade Fire album. There is a British influence in the sonic palette, as much as I hate to say that,” Godfrey laughs.

“The Strokes are the anomaly, but I mostly listened to UK bands growing up.” He cites everything from The Cure and Joy Division to Blade Runner as inspiration. “It’s about the cyclical nature of rock, and then we add our own stamp from the 2020s.”

Before we’re kicked out of P Macs for not buying any pints (professionalism isn’t dead, sadly), what’s Cian’s most cherished moment of making SC1?

“I have my friends from school or college, but then I have this band - and you don’t know them from any other sphere. It’s these four strangers coming together who know each other better than a lot of our friends. We tell each other stuff that we’d almost be too scared to tell your mates. Strengthening that bond was special. There’s highs and lows, but it grew us in a really great way.”

Somebody’s Child is out now via Frenchkiss Records.

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