At home with Nick Seymour

Ex-Crowded House bassist Nick Seymour might have every musician’s dream house – an apartment with a studio, slap-bang in the centre of Dublin, but he knows what it’s like to slum it as a student.
“I studied in Melbourne for seven years,” he begins, “and in that time I lived in some shit houses. For three years, in fact, I squatted in one place. It was empty so I moved in, and then got the electricity connected, then the phone, and settled in quite nicely. Thankfully I had it all to myself, apart from the occassional band that used to rehearse there.”
Aside from the illegality, he’s still continuing this formula in his present abode: in his large complex in Exchequer St, Dublin 2, he lives in the top half while the bottom half is a studio that’s been used by the likes of Republic Of Loose, members of BellX1 and others. “We use Pro-Tools and it’s quite modern, but it’s full of vintage gear,” he explains proudly. “And it’s set out differently from a lot of other studios – the live room and the mixing desk aren’t separated.”
Take a look in the residential wing, and the interior is just as unique. He describes its style as “eclectic”, and he’s not wrong. His pieces of furniture most definitely aren’t from Argos – whether it’s the dining table, the oriental rugs or the paintings which were given to him by his friends on the art courses he studied. In fact most of the items were given to him as gifts.
“While I was studying I was also working in the props department for various film and TV programmes. Through that I got to know a lot of antiques dealers, and if I did a lot of business with them, I could walk in afterwards and pick what I wanted for free.”
He shipped much of this furniture over when he moved from Australia eight years ago, with his girlfriend Nicola McCutcheon, who incidentally is the Tae-kwon-do bronze world champion for Ireland. It begs the question: why Ireland?
“It started out that I went out with a girl from Dublin, and at the time I was lucky enough to see that building for sale in the early 90s, when it was clear that it was just about to realise its potential as a European capital. I’d bought a couple of houses for investment before in Melbourne, and once Crowded House split up I thought I’d come here, do it up and sell it. But I fell in love with the apartment instead!”
What especially attracts him to his set-up here is the location.
“This neighbourhood is really unique,” Nick enthuses. “There’s only one other spot in the world that I think is as convenient, and that’s the East Village in New York.”
A city-centre pad, I suggest, might not be the quietest place to live.
“It’s noisy,” he concedes. “But I’ve taken steps to soundproof the apartment – particularly the bedroom. For the first 12 months I was woken up early in the morning with revellers singing 13 verses of ‘The Auld Triangle’ outside my bedroom window. Eventually I realised that I had to do something about it. Now all I hear is the collection of bottles from nightclubs at 8am, but I can live with that.”
Surely the huge surge of people at weekends must get annoying?
“Actually, I’m fortunate enough to have a camper van, so I tend to disappear at the weekends. I usually go to Sligo, Donegal or occasionally West Clare to surf. So I find myself evacuating Dublin on Friday nights in my camper and coming back Monday morning.”
Is there anything he doesn’t like about the location then?
“There’s no parking, because it’s not considered a residential area. But even that’s preferable – it’s because I don’t have neighbours that I can let bands bash away on the drums until the early hours of the morning.”
Another issue brought on by the area is where to go out, as all his locals are “have become scene bars”, as he puts it. But his drinking dens of choice is classified information. “We have to keep the good bars close to our chest so that these bars don’t become fashionable. They would be published in HotPress, and the next thing you know, they would be crowded and the vibe would change.”
Such elusiveness only incites a find-Nick-Seymour pub crawl. Who’s with me?