From Therapy? To Tractors

When it's time to write the big story of Ulster rock and roll, Therapy? will be a crucial act to deal with.

They arrived at a time when the local scene was in bits, dominated by awful, Celtic mullet-rockers and poor Smiths/New Order copyists. They brought cool, abrasive record collections into the equation. They were funny and clever and never coy about the power of facial hair and bludgeon riffola. In early press coverage, there were persistent sightings of the Larne/Ballyclare trio baring their arses to the world. Symbolic in every sense.

That feeling came back to us all at the Ulster Hall, last December. Ash were onstage, giving it plenty, but many eyes were on Andy Cairns and Michael McKeegan at the back of the hall, absorbing the fine music, but also taking time out to sign loads of autographs. It was a definitive "Boys Are Back In Town" moment, as the Therapy? lads signed tickets, T-shirts, arms and cleavages, with the air of proper, benevolent rock heroes.

After that show, a party took place at Katy Daly's on Ormeau Avenue. Andy Cairns was in tremendous form, talking frankly about the band's experiences since their label, A&M, was dissolved/swallowed up by corporate shenanigans.

Andy reckoned that the band was considering five new possible record deals, three of them with major labels. He wanted to take the opportunity to make a fresh start. He was talking about the vim and glory of Thin Lizzy, and how no band from these parts has ever really managed to carry on the tradition.

He was gassing about the spirit of Northern Ireland punk bands, and how he wanted to recapture that feeling in his music also. He talked up an exciting fight, and suggested that the next step was to record an album in a furious binge, uncorking the energy and not caring so much about production values.

That plan still seems to be on course. There's been a small setback since drummer Graham Hopkins busted his arm last month in Dublin, running for a late night taxi. But the music is already taking shape, and the band may be pulling together for a '99 campaign as we speak.

Meanwhile, some of the members have been using their down-time to make music for their personal pleasure. That's no new thing: Andy has previously featured with mad projects such as Catweazle and The Casey Jones Reaction. Michael was part of death metal act Evil Priest and Graham has been known to take up a stool with The Frames. Meantime, the original Therapy? drummer, Fyfe Ewing, is unwrapping The Divers, and promises much in the realms of a punk/techno crossover.

But a new act, The Sons Of Massey, is taking shape in Belfast, and promises to be the most entertaining extra-curricular gig yet. Michael McKeegan plays bass. He's joined by his brother Charlie on drums, plus guitarist Paul Kingham. The vocalist is the mighty Robyn Sheils, an unashamed culchie slaphead from the darklands of Kilrea, near Ballymena.

He talks in a frequently dense Ulster-Scots dialect, regards AC/DC singer Bon Scott as a personal guru and has little time for the civilised, cynical airs of the townies from Belfast. Robyn was born to rock, and has at last found a vehicle for that gig.

Appropriate then, that the Massey in the band's name is a homage to the Massey Ferguson tractor brand, and that they describe their fare as "turf-cutting rock and roll." And it's highly significant that they formed in August 1997, on the tenth anniversary of Guns N' Roses' legendary Appetite For Destruction.

The band's mission statement is "Keep Her Lit." They have a tremendous affection for the turbulent sounds of Slint. You immediately think of a variant of the film Deliverance, when the boys from the backwoods wreak havoc, dangerously fuelled on poitín and bad attitude.

"You're not far wrong with that," Robyn chortles. "I don't think we're afraid to show our culchiness, put it that way."

For a time, the band merely existed in rehearsal rooms, as the boys got tanked up and then jammed for the buzz of it. But last December, the band surfaced at The Front Page in Belfast, with a set that surprised many with its vehemence.

"There's a lowest common denominator approach to it," Michael laughs. "There isn't much in the way of black polo necks and goatee stroking. It's not like, 'is it cool?' It's like, 'does it ROCK?' It has to feel good to play. There's no mathematics, really."

"People say to me, why are you doing a solo project? I say, look mate, I'm playing bass and drinkin' beer, stood at the back. It's not me up front on a big podium, going, look at me. Music is your hobby, so you do it when you go home. I'm not gonna sit around and count my money. I'm into playing music and having a bit of fun."

The SOM songs that catch the ear include 'Tractor Down', 'Censorcist', 'This Cash Is Johnny's' and 'Falling From A Great Height'. At a recent gig in the back bar of Lavery's, they induced the whole audience to make the devil-horns sign back at the band, in a moment that was strangely Wayne's World. Again, this is no bad thing. We'll await a forthcoming EP release with much anticipation. But what will happen to the band when Michael's "proper" band starts up again?

"I'll just see," he muses. "My main priority is Therapy? because that's what I'm really into. It's what I'm happiest doing, my big thing. No offence to The Sons Of Massey, but I like the whole Therapy? thing. It's like, bang, bang, bang. It's easy, because me and Andy get on like a house on fire. But having said that, The Sons Of Massey is really good fun."

Observe The Sons Of Massey, marching into mayhem.