So how come half of the population here is effectively chopped out of the equation? The answer has something to do with culture, with economics and with old-school chauvinism. Women aren't just marginalised in the performing world - they're virtually excluded from the business side of the industry as well. Frankly, it's an embarrassment. Something has to give.
That's certainly the view of journalist Maeve Quigley, who produces the bulk of the music coverage in the Belfast Telegraph, as well as contributing to Melody Maker.
"Generally, Northern Ireland is a very male-dominated society," she figures, "and it's reflected through rock music. Guitar bands are always seen as boys with their toys. And the girls are supposed to watch. It's the same with DJs. It's not necessarily that women wouldn't want to try it, but they just wouldn't have the neck to go it alone.
"It's the kind of society where, if a woman gets up on stage, she would get a hell of a lot more flak than any man. As opposed to wanting to make music in your own way - they think you're only doing it 'cause you want to get into the trousers of somebody else."
But at least the debate is getting more shrill these days. You can hear it in a song like Tunic's 'Queen Bee', in which Tanya brings the questioning values of Riot Grrrl to bear on a stale environment. There's also some play in the Ursula Burns song, 'Continental Boys', which paints up the local menfolk as a race of hopelessly molly-coddled mama's boys, unable to relate to the opposite sex.
But to really understand the limiting nature of Northern Ireland culture, you should look at the world of politics. Specifically, you should remember the reactions to Pearl Sagar and Monica McWilliams of the Women's Coalition, which was formed with the specific purpose of disarming sectarianism and taking away the toys from the boys.
In response, William McCrea of the DUP announced: "As long as I live, I will have a mission, which is to teach these two women to stand behind the loyal men of Ulster."
Pearl and Monica greeted his thoughts by singing a song, an ultra-sarcastic version of 'Stand By Your Man'. Doubtless, if she'd been around, you'd have heard the same tune from Mary McAleese, another Riot Grrrl who has broken throught the glass ceiling, big style.
liberating signals
These days, there are plenty of bands with a female perspective, all piping up in a creative way. They include Rare, Scheer, The Holsteins, Tamalin, Tunic, Honey, The Cheese Junkies and Loopland. The Derry singer Noella Hutton has just finished an album for the Radioactive label. Belfast's Chimera are also studio-bound, aiming to build on their US recognition and Eileen's unearthly vocals.
Plenty of the liberating signals are certainly coming from the American continent. The singer Sarah McLachlan, who devised last year's all-female Lilith Fair musical package, is putting a second year's plan into action. This time, she's making sure that rap, soul and country are represented as well as the mainstream genres, and the expectations are high, with a European leg already scheduled.
That's not going to change the Northern Ireland scene overnight, but there's a hint of she-power in an initiative that's set for the Crescent Arts Centre in Belfast on June 5. Primarily, it's a benefit for The Big Issues magazine. But the show will also see a coalition of three singers; Susan Enan, Louise Wallace from Raindog and Joan McEldowney from Osmosis. Individually, these three singers have plenty to offer. As a team effort, the idea should be a stormer.
Susan is already getting excited. "What's great about working with these girls is that we've a completely blank canvass. We're sorting out everything from lighting to sets. We're writing music together, making sure that it's not just the three bands.
"We don't want people to compare us, we want to be working together. There are opportunities out there - you just have to look for them and take them."

quietly intense
Susan has the potential to make a difference. Her debut release, the Inside EP, is a collection of quietly intense songs that variously recall Morrissey, Tori Amos and Woody Guthrie. Even better, her indie CD is supplemented by a multimedia package that captures her playing live at the Rotterdam and talking about her life and her songs.
Born in Peterborough, she studied music at Liverpool University, where she met plenty of Ulster people and was "bitten by the bug". She's been here a couple of years now, teaching music and getting her own gig together. When she found herself working at the same school as Joan from Osmosis, they decided to check out Katy Daly's bar together. It was there that they met Louise and the plot was settled.
You tell Susan about the track history of the women singers from the north: Ruby, Dana and Clodagh. She's not impressed. "That's shocking, isn't it?"
It is, especially when, across the border in Donegal, you've got Enya and Clannad selling millions of records. And down the road a bit, you've had Sinéad O'Connor and Dolores O' Riordan, megastars both.
You ask Maeve Quigley if there's any immediate cause for optimism for the female artists in Northern Ireland. She answers without hesitating. "No."
So is there reason to hope that the recent initiatives might bring about some change?
"Obviously it is to be encouraged, but it depends on whether the groups are any good. Bands like Sleeper only exist on the premise that Louise Wener is good-looking. But on the other hand, there are probably loads and loads of girls out there with the talent who could do it, but are too afraid to play the boys at their own game."
And while these artists are discouraged or locked out of the system, we're effectively halving Northern Ireland's creativity. The future might be promising, but it won't be completely easy until the boys are backing down. n