The write stuff

Joel Cathcart reacts to the word fusion, much as a vampire would to the approach of a waved crucifix.

“Oh no,” he grimaces. “Not that. Anything but that. That’s a horrible term.”
Unfortunately, when this “lapsed classical performer” begins to rhyme off the polyglot mesh of influences (from modern classical, contemporary jazz, traditional folk) that contribute to his work (alongside Fionbarr Byrne and Laura McGrogan) as a member of Albrecht’s Pencil, it is the one word that springs immediately (all be it, lazily) to mind.
“How about collision,” he suggests helpfully. “That’s a bit better. It’s maybe a collision of the contemporary and the classical.”
Which, admittedly, does sit much more comfortably. Although if it is a collision – it’s the quietest one you’ve ever heard.
Sharing a coffee with Joel is like engaging in a frantic bout of conversational hop-scotch – one as likely to land on Old Testament ruminations (as part of his soon-to-be-completed Masters in Music, he’s working on a performance piece based on the Tower of Babel), as it is on the post-rehab working methods of Omar Rodriguez Lopez of Mars Volta (“He is intensely creative. He can’t stop. I think he was thirteen or fourteen albums worth of material waiting to be released.”). Add in the forthright opinions on many of his peers (“They write one song every two years and send out a press release”), and his take on the artistic claims of Belfast (“A Jekyll and Hyde town that wants to be a city”) and an hour in the self-taught guitarist’s company is an electrical storm of restless (but always enlightening) chat.
How strange then, that the music of Albrecht’s Pencil is completely free from this kind of distracting static.
For all the heavy subtext at play in the their two EPs to date (there are allusions to the occupation of Iraq, mental illness, agoraphobia) the songs are so light and diaphanous, they could almost have butterfly wings. Which is a worry. There is so much rewarding stuff going on here (their use of instruments such as the cavaquinho, tongue drum, glockenspiel, whipcrack, hang, violoncello, wind up radio, and tam-tam shows how elastic their notion of being an acoustic band is), but – much like Lamchop’s Is A Woman – you’ll need some clear air to pick it out.
A commodity notable by its absence on the Belfast gig circuit.
“We have had a few problems playing live,” admits Joel. “We’re moving away from pubs. Our most recent shows have been about playing in interesting spaces – the Palm House in Botanic Gardens, Conway Mill. It’s not just a gimmick, it’s a direction we’re really interested in pursuing. I think it’s a bit depressing that the default performance position still is: band in pub being looked at by pub denizens.”
“There are so many assumptions that come with it,” he continues. “You’re really only there to increase bar takings. Not only that, most of your audience are intoxicated. I think it’s much more interesting to try to step out of that. I don’t think that’s a bad thing. All of Belfast’s music takes place in pubs. I’m not sure that’s particularly stimulating of healthy.”
What about the idea that this battle to be heard can actually prove to be creatively rewarding?
“I can see that. If you look at the way the industry is going at the moment – any bands that do come through, you find they’ve been playing in Norwich for 6 years. And that’s an entirely valid approach. There’s something noble in that. But I think in our case, because our music is not typical – we’re an odd-shaped ensemble with no drummer and too many microphones – it’s an approach that doesn’t suit us. I mean, we do try to subvert it, but more often than not it can feel like you’re a glorified CD player.”
It’s early days for Albrecht’s Pencil, but the subtlety and careful intelligence of their output so far identifies as a band to seek out and observe. Although, as Joel admits, so far the onus has been on you to come to them.
“We’re very poor at self-promotion,” he laughs. “Our MySpace site’s a bit crap, we’re not the most pro-active when it comes to publicising our shows. We’re all pretty busy – if you have a finite amount of time, why not expend it on the music?”
Why not, indeed?