All The Young Judes

A year ago, it was hard to miss Jude around Belfast. They were playing in every bar and gin joint, invariably third on the bill, making nice but nondescript variations on the Beatles/Oasis legacy. They dressed like binmen and their press shots suggested that they were waiting for a bus, rather than holding out for stardom. Pleasant chaps and all, but their prospects didn't seem so great.

A lot of musicians in this league eventually grow up, pack up the band and do something useful with their lives. They may find a different niche in the music industry (I know, I was that binman), or find an unrelated job that pays well enough to make up for a dream that's been set aside. That's rock and roll Darwinism for you: be the best or move over for the improved, up-to-date breed. Jude nearly went the way of the dinosaurs. Instead, they did some hard thinking and decided to flit to London. Since singer Declan and the drummer had experience in the computer industry, they reckoned that at least they could find work to subsidise the music. And sure enough, they were working in IT by day and rocking by night, as the Jude operation shifted to Edgware, north of the capital.

They found some rehearsal space in Dollis Hill, a few tube stops away. Weekends were spent at the Jumbo Studios complex — the same place that Suede used, although Brett's unconventional working hours meant that the two bands never met. Next step was to sort out some gigs, so they studied the pages of the NME gig guide and noted where the decent bands played. Soon they were in business at the Hope And Anchor, The Dublin Castle, The Bull And Gate and The Mean Fiddler.

Declan is currently sitting outside Katy Daly's in Belfast, back home for a few days to see mates and family. The time away has clearly done him good. He seems more confident, more purposeful, and a bit wiser as to the ways of the biz.

"The bands are more professional in London," he admits. "But we've practiced and brought ourselves up to that standard now. Musically, I believe that we're better and I believe that a lot of bands in Belfast are better, songwise. Because there's a lot of crap, manufactured bands over there. We appreciate that it is part of a business, but there has to be something real as well.

It's the best move that's ever happened to us. People in London are into it more, they're more willing to give you a chance. Having said that, playing the venues in London that you've always read about is a disappointment. You'd prefer to play here. But even our friends in Belfast, they'd go to the occasional gig. In London we have a group of people and they come to all of them. People have picked up on us and they believe in us. We're a lot closer to what we want, basically."

Extra help has arrived in the form of Tina Osman, who has previously worked on videos for the Go! Discs label, and producer Steve Hepworth. They're helping Jude with the industry side, setting up a showcase night in London's Cockpit Theatre (where Marc Bolan once performed) on July 1, and preparing an electronic press kit on the band to up the interest. Later, a documentary film is planned. Declan's ultimate advice is simple: "Go for it, like." And off he goes, back to London for some further stakes in the rock and roll lottery. You never know. It could be Jude.

During the recent Green Energy weekend in Dublin, a music business seminar tackled the issue of promoting Irish music internationally. Louis Walsh said fascinating stuff about getting the right record label, a good London solicitor and a producer who can make your act sound relevant. Other types considered the importance of finding a booking agent, using independent distribution and enjoying the Irish tax breaks to their best effect.

All fine and dandy, but the panelists ignored a critical new factor. The internet will internationalise the Irish music industry like never before. Somewhere down the line, it may even break up the power of the major record industries, putting local music in a much more favourable position. Sure, there will still be room for an agent who can maximise your profile in a busy marketplace, but the independents currently have a fun avenue to explore. Just ask Jeepster Records, who used their resources to win Belle And Sebastian a Brit Award ahead of crappy old Steps.

Maybe half of the young Northern Ireland acts have websites. Many of these feature sound files, so anyone, anywhere, can sample the goods. Jude, for instance, have moved beyond their own site (www.lightfantastic.co.uk) and are now placing their music on the big MP3 site, which is pulling in masses of interest from abroad. There's a series of web publications out there, including Fastfude (www.fastfude.com), Belfest (www.belfest.com), my own Oh Yeah (www.ohyeah.net) and DNA Promotions (www.dnapromotions.co.uk). All of these are trying to document an increasingly busy scene.

The latest Fastfude initiative is the "Gourmet Season", a sustained talent search on the net. Online listeners have the opportunity to vote for their fave local bands over a series of heats (to date the winners have been Mush Puppies, Tracer, Drebin and Kaledoscope), culminating in a heat-winners bash at the Limelight in Belfast, May 19. Fastfude have promised that judging on the night will be managed by some kind of democratic, new-fangled touch-screen facility. There might even be a single or a compilation CD to celebrate the project afterwards. It should be memorable.

Finally, you may have heard about the murder bid at the UB40 concert in Botanic Gardens, Belfast. Johnny "Mad Dog" Adair, the jailed UFF Commander, was out on parole from the Maze, and was lucky to escape with a bullet fragment in the head. There was a lot of press coverage up here, but one bizarre fact was omitted. Twenty years ago, long before he was sentenced for directing terrorism, Adair was in a band, influenced by late period punk. The name of said band? Offensive Weapon. Hmmm.